Betting on Hope

Chapter 15





Kenji Hasegawa, a world-famous chef whose last restaurant had earned three Michelin stars and whose current restaurant was fully booked through Christmas, looked down at the blonde girl who was perched precariously on a stool at his stainless steel counter. Why on earth had he let Tanner Wingate talk him into this? But he’d said he’d give this child a cooking lesson, and he would do his best. She was a nice kid, well-mannered and interested. And he’d gotten season tickets to the UNLV basketball games out of the deal, so that was something.

“Have you thought about what we should we make for your birthday lunch, Amber?”

She beamed at him. “This was a total surprise! Thank you so much for the lesson. You are totally the best. Anything we make will be awesome.”

Kenji found himself smiling back. At least she’d be easy to please.

“Well, what do you like to eat?” he asked.

“I like everything. Except for totally weird stuff.”

Kenji grinned. “You want to stay away from totally weird stuff,” he agreed.

Amber grinned back. “You’re a sushi chef, right?” she asked. “That’s all fish? Let’s do fish.”

“That will be easy, then. We’ll go to the market to pick out something fresh. What would you like to have with it?”

Amber’s forehead furrowed while she thought. “Potato salad?” she asked. “Like a picnic.”

“Good choice,” Kenji said. “There’s lots of variations with potato salad. What else? Remember, we’ve got the protein and the starch, so now we need a vegetable that adds color to the plate.”

Amber tilted her head at him. “This seems so easy,” she said. “When I’m making up recipes for the vegetable boxes, doing a menu seems really hard. How about cole slaw? That’s green.”

“Cole slaw it is. Do you want birthday cake for dessert? I’m not a baker, Amber, so it wouldn’t be real fancy.”

“Brownies,” Amber said firmly. “With nuts.”

“That’s the menu, then,” Kenji said. “We have a lot of the stuff we’ll need here at the restaurant, but I thought it would be fun to shop. Are you ready to go?”

They went to the natural foods store and bought the chocolate, nuts, and flour. They went to the Indian food store and bought spices. Last they went to a seafood market. Before they drove back to the restaurant, Kenji dug through one of the grocery bags, pulling out a small cellophane package and tearing it open.

“What’s that?” Amber asked, looking at it.

“I got it in the Indian grocery shop,” Kenji said. “It’s green mango candy.”

“Mango,” Amber said. “That’s a tropical fruit, right? Cool.”

Kenji handed a piece to Amber, who unwrapped the morsel and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes widened.

“Juicy,” she said, focusing on the horizon while she tasted. “It’s good. Sweet, but sour, too.”

They got in the car, and Kenji started to drive. “They’ve got a lot of good things there,” he said. “The trick is to learn how to use them. The candy, though, isn’t so hard to figure out.”

Amber giggled.

Back at the restaurant, Kenji handed Amber a big white apron, looping the strings around the girl three times to tie it snugly. But when he gave her even the smallest chef’s hat, it fell down over her eyes. He dug through a drawer and found a clean but worn pink bandana and tied it around Amber’s forehead over the hat, pleating the brim in back to make it fit.

“Now it looks like you work here,” he said, as he tied the bandana securely behind her head.

Amber beamed, feeling the tall white hat towering over her head. “I’m ready to cook,” she said, and Kenji laughed.

“First we’ll make the side dishes,” he said. “Let’s start with the potato salad.”



Hope, dressing for Amber’s birthday lunch, put on her new sundress decorated with butterflies. She brushed her hair and slipped into the new high-heeled sandals that she’d bought with Baby. She pulled on two orange-and-white bangle bracelets and stepped back to look at herself in the mirror.

She looked good. Not that anyone would notice. Not that she cared whether they did or not. She wasn’t dressing to please people. People who liked flirting with everybody were not serious about anybody. She was wearing her sundress because it was Amber’s birthday, and she wanted to do justice to the occasion. And that was all.

Hope almost rolled her eyes at herself as she grabbed the present she’d picked out for her niece and left the house. Who was she trying to kid? People who flirted with everybody might not be serious about her, but she was trying to impress them anyway. More fool her.

When she got to the casino restaurant, Weary was waiting at the entrance. His

eyes widened when he saw her.

“You look mighty fine, Little Hope,” he said. “As pretty as a picture. Like a canary set down in a field of mud hens.”

“Thank you, Weary,” she said. “I’ve been shopping.”

“It paid off.” Weary held out his arm to her. “Okay, well, now that you’re here, we can get this shindig off the ground.”

“Am I late?” Hope took his arm. “I didn’t mean to keep everybody waiting.”

“Nah, you’re not late, just the last to arrive. And with you lookin’ so pretty, it was more than worth it. I just been standing here to keep out the undesirables,” he said, ushering her into the closed restaurant.

“Has anybody tried to get past you?” Hope asked.

“Hell, yes. Somebody slipped me a Jackson to get a reservation for dinner tonight.”

“Did you take it?”

“Sure, I took it,” Weary said. “If people be so foolish as to think I’m the maitre d’, I’ll take their money. Do I look like a maitre d’ to you?”

“Only if maitre d’s wear Hawaiian shirts and look like ex-professional linebackers.”

“Exactly.”

They went into the dim restaurant and crossed the dining room to a table in the back beautifully set for twelve. Tanner, who’d been uncorking a bottle of wine, turned and, when he saw Hope, his eyes widened just as Weary’s had. He put the wine down and went to join them.

“You look fantastic,” he said. “Like a—I don’t know. Butterfly garden.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek.

Hope felt herself blush. A butterfly kiss, she thought.

“Weary, I’ll take it from here,” Tanner said. While Weary grinned in amusement, Tanner gently untucked Hope’s hand from Weary’s arm and tucked it into his own.

“There. That’s better,” he said.

Hope’s pulse speeded up. She must be flushed, because she was way too warm.

Tanner leaned into her. “There’s no name cards on the table,” he said, his breath soft against her ear. “I already checked. So I can sit next to you.”

“Maybe Amber has other ideas,” Hope said. When she turned her head to speak, her cheek brushed his. Her heart fluttered and lurched inside her chest, like a moth bumping around a light bulb.

“She’ll let me sit next to you,” Tanner said, so softly it was almost a whisper. “She and I are buds.”

“Hey, Hope, get over here,” Marty called from where he stood at a sideboard. “You have to try these appetizers.”

Hope jerked her head up. “Coming,” she said.

“What does Marty think I can do to you in here?” Tanner asked, but he followed Hope as she joined the group getting drinks.

“Now everybody’s here,” Marty said, handing a glass of wine to Hope.

“Just like the old days,” Pete Wyzniewski said.

“Bing-bing-bing!” Sharp Eddie said.

“Where does the time go?” Isaiah Rush asked. “Hope and Faith, all grown up. Now Amber, just starting out.”

“It’s great to see you all again,” Weary said. “It’s been too long.”

“The unexpected pleasure of reanimating treasured acquaintances cannot be surpassed by any other companionable entertainments,” Jim Thickpenny said.

“Hear, hear!” Tanner said.

Amber burst out of the kitchen, waving a wooden spoon, her white chef’s hat askew, barely held in place by the pink bandana. She looked flushed.

“We’re ready!” she announced, and then she saw her mother. “Mom! I’m having so much fun! Everybody sit down! Time to eat!”

And then she dashed back into the kitchen.

“Maybe the presentation could do with a little polish,” Faith said, laughing as they sat down at the table.

“She’s excited,” Suzanne said.

Amber came back into the dining room, carefully carrying a big bowl. “We’re having grilled sardines with potato salad and fancy cole slaw,” she said, putting the bowl on the table. “And brownies!”

“My favorite!” Tanner said. He grinned at her, and Amber grinned back, giving him a thumbs up before she disappeared back into the kitchen.

Kenji and Amber brought out the rest of the food. The meal was simple, but all the dishes looked good. Hope realized how hungry she was. Tanner did indeed sit next to her, and as he handed her the warm plate of grilled sardines, she took three of the small fish, glistening on the platter and cooked to a dark golden color.

“They smell delicious!” she said to Amber.

“But no more delicious than you,” Tanner whispered to Hope before he took the potato salad from Weary on his other side.

“Stop it,” Hope said softly, even as she felt herself flush. She watched as Tanner helped himself to the potato salad. His hands were big, the knuckles stood out on his long fingers. His nails were clean but short. He’d worn a long-sleeved shirt, and he’d rolled up his cuffs, exposing ropey tendons and sinews in his tanned forearms.

Tanner glanced up and caught her looking. He grinned at her, mischief in his eyes.

“The potato salad looks good,” she said, feeling trapped, feeling her cheeks turn even hotter. Now that she looked at it, the potato salad did look good. The potatoes were dotted with green specks—parsley, Hope thought—and lightly coated with something brown.

“You like potato salad?” Tanner asked softly. “I’ve been known to make excellent potato salad. Tender, moist, sweet. Just ask me. I can give you all the potato salad you could ever want.”

He so wasn’t talking about potato salad. Hope reached for her water. If only she could splash it against her face. Or dump it in his lap.

“In fact, I’d like to give you some potato salad right now,” Tanner said.

Hope choked on her water, and Tanner grinned, handing her his napkin. “Careful there,” he said.

“Tanner!” she said, glaring at him. “Cut it out right now!”

Several heads turned their way.

Tanner dipped the serving spoon into the potato salad and piled some onto her plate. “Let me give you some potato salad,” he said, his eyes dancing. “It’s delicious. Just try it. Take your time. Let it work its magic.”

Hope yanked the bowl away from him, still glaring.

Tanner laughed.

Kenji clinked his spoon against his glass. “To the chef!” he said. “To Amber, on her birthday!”

Relieved, Hope picked up her glass with everyone else. “Happy birthday, Amber!” they all said.

Amber looked flustered. “Thank you!” she said. “Please eat!”

Marty and Eddie didn’t need any urging. They dug into the sardines with gusto.

Hope saw that Amber was watching her expectantly, waiting for her verdict. The fish certainly looked wonderful. Hope picked up her fork and knife and carefully slit down the back of a sardine, laying open one side. Then she pulled out the bones in one easy tug. The flesh of the small fish was delicate and had a faintly smoky aroma. Hope cut a piece and took a bite. And then she felt her eyes open wider in surprise. The sardine was heaven on a fork. The little fish was so light and flavorful, the seasonings—what? Garlic? Salt? Something else she couldn’t identify—just perfect. The skin had just a hint of a crunch.

“Amber,” Hope said, putting down her fork. “The sardines are absolutely fantastic. The best I’ve ever eaten.”

Amber beamed at her. “Do you really think so? We put a little coating on before grilling. Kenji says it’s our secret.”

“Sweetie, you did a wonderful job on everything,” Faith said. “Hope, have you tried the potato salad? Unbelievably good.”

Hope felt Tanner’s leg nudge her thigh under the table. She felt color flood back to her face.

“That’s just what I was telling her,” Tanner said. “How good the potato salad is.”

“Everything far supersedes expectations,” Jim Thickpenny said, digging into the cole slaw. “I might say that the ingredients defy categorization. Can I ask what you’ve added to create this phantasmagoric experience?”

Amber, confused, looked at Kenji.

“What we put in it,” he explained to her. “Miso,” he said. “And other things.”

“Amber, did you really make all this?” Hope asked, finally trying the potato salad. “Everything is delicious.”

“Big, big, big!” Sharp Eddie said, his voice a little thick around a mouthful of potato salad.

“I did!” Amber was all smiles. “Kenji showed me stuff. And he did a lot. But I did a lot, too. Didn’t I, Kenji?”

Kenji nodded. “Amber, I was thinking—” he said.

“Did I put too much cumin in the potato salad?” Amber asked, suddenly worried. “I wondered.”

Kenji laughed and reached out, straightening her hat. “Listen to you. Too much cumin. You’re funny. No, this potato salad is perfect.”

“Absolutely,” Isaiah Rush said. “Would you pass it again, please?”

Tanner leaned into Hope while he picked up the bowl of potato salad. “See?” he whispered. “Everybody likes the potato salad.”

Hope kicked him under the table.

Tanner grinned and started the bowl of potato salad around the table for the third time.

“This is what I was thinking,” Kenji said. “My publisher has been asking me when I’ll turn in a proposal for my next cookbook, and so far I haven’t had a good idea. But today it occurred to me that a kids’ cookbook is a good idea. Simple recipes with a twist to get children interested in food. But I have a big problem.” He turned to face Amber, looking somber.

Amber looked at Kenji, her small face worried. “What?”

“I need a kid for a co-author. If I could find one—someone with talent, who knows something about food already because her mom has an organic farm—who could help me write it, I’d be all set.” He grinned at Amber. “If her mom said it was okay.”

Amber’s eyes got huge. “You mean me? I could help you write it?” When Kenji nodded, smiling, she turned to her mother. “Mom, could I? Please?”

Faith looked from Amber to Kenji, her forehead furrowed. “That’s a huge honor, Amber, Kenji asking you to help, but I don’t know. It’s a big commitment. School’s starting soon. You’ll have homework.”

“I can do it! I know I can! Please, mom!”

Kenji turned to Faith. “Amber would be a perfect partner. She already has a lot of background from the farm. She’s an adventurous eater. And she’s got good instincts. She’d be cute on the cover. We could do the testing at your house, if that’s easier.”

“I could be on the cover?” And when Kenji nodded again, Amber turned pleading eyes to her mother. “Mom, did you hear that? I have instincts. I could be on the cover. Please say yes. Please, please, please.”

“It will be a lot of work, I won’t mislead you about that,” Kenji said. “But I think we’d have fun. And of course she’ll get half the advance and royalties.”

“I don’t care about that,” Amber said, and the others grinned. “Please, mom.”

“Well, okay, sweetie, if Kenji’s sure,” Faith said, “but it can’t interfere with homework.”

“It won’t. I promise.” Amber threw her arms around Kenji, giving him a hug. Her smile was so bright and so wide, so rapturous with pleasure, Hope thought it would split her face.

Was I ever that happy about anything? Hope thought about it. Not in a long time, if ever. Not that she could remember.

“Here’s to collaborations,” Marty said and raised his glass.

Tanner leaned into Hope as she raised hers with the others.

“Collaborating on potato salad, that’s the ticket,” he said softly.

Hope rolled her eyes at him.

“To collaborations,” she said firmly with the others, avoiding Tanner’s eyes, and drank.

When the lunch was done and the table cleared, Amber opened her presents. Her first present was a set of knives from Kenji.

“They’re too small for me,” he said. “I hope they’re not too heavy for you. If you use them, Amber, you have to be very careful. They’re sharp.”

“Oh, I will!” Amber said reverently, holding one of the knives. “I can’t wait to try them! For the cookbook! Thank you.”

Tanner gave her a hand-carved chess set. All the pieces were from Alice in Wonderland.

“It’s fantastic,” Amber breathed, stroking the White Rabbit.

“Do you play?” Tanner asked.

“No,” Amber said. “Not yet. Will you teach me?”

“Sure,” Tanner said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

The uncles had chipped in to give her a helicopter ride over Hoover Dam.

“Wow.” Amber blinked at the uncles. “I’ve never been in a helicopter.” Suddenly she turned shy. “Maybe you could come with me?”

“We would love to, Bright Amber,” said Sharp Eddie, and all the uncles nodded. “If we can all fit,” he added.

“If not, we’ll play a quick round of seven-card stud 8 or better, high-low split to see who goes,” Marty said.

“Okay,” Amber said, looking confused. But when she opened Hope’s gift, she became speculative.

“It looks like a food dish,” she said. “And a collar. And leash. For a dog.”

“Yes,” Hope said.

“I guess it’s time for you to get my present,” said Faith. “But you have to come with me.”

“Mom?” Amber asked with mounting excitement as she scrambled out of her chair to follow her mother. “Is it a dog? You got me a dog?”

Everyone stood up as Faith and Kenji led Amber out of the dining room, through the kitchen, and out the back door to the restaurant’s loading dock. There, tied up in the shade of an overhang, lying on a thick mat with a bowl of water and another of kibble, sat a largish brown and white dog that wriggled and whined, almost dancing in eagerness and anxiety, as they came out the door.

Amber dropped to her knees on the hard concrete loading dock next to the mutt, and the dog flung itself into her arms, licking her face and almost knocking her over. She hugged the animal, laughing while it wriggled against her. Kenji leaned over, trying to get a grip on the squirming dog to put the new collar on it.

Amber looked up at her mother as everyone smiled. “What’s her name?”

Faith reached down to scratch the dog’s ears. “That’s up to you.”

The dog nuzzled Amber, licking her from her chin almost to her hairline, and then turned to Faith, who pushed it away, laughing.

Amber didn’t hesitate. “Squeegee,” she announced. “My dog’s name is Squeegee! Because she licks everybody in sight. Thank you, mom!”

Squeegee lunged at Amber again, trying to lick her face, while Amber laughed and put her arms around her new pet.

Hope felt a heavy sadness steal over her. Tanner, who’d been watching her instead of Amber and the dog, noticed Hope’s changed expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Hope swallowed.

“The dog’s probably a bad idea,” she said softly, watching Faith and Amber play with Squeegee while Kenji tried to get the collar on her. “I don’t even know if she’ll get to keep it.”

Tanner glanced at her. “Why wouldn’t she be able to keep it?”

Hope shook her head. “Oh, you know. But Faith wanted to make a positive affirmation, and I decided I would try to live up to my name and be a little hopeful. Despite everything.”

Tanner, looking puzzled and concerned, opened his mouth to say something. Hope took a deep breath.

“I have to go,” she said, glancing at her watch. “Kenji, this was great. Thank you for everything.”

“No problem,” Kenji said, glancing up at her, still struggling with the collar.

“I’ll go with you,” Tanner said.

“You don’t have to,” Hope said.

“Yes, I do,” Tanner said patiently. “We all do. We’re helping you at the tables, remember?”

“Oh,” Hope said. “Right.”

The uncles nodded.

“Set a date for that helicopter ride, Amber,” Marty said. “Let us know.”

“The meal was delicious,” Isaiah Rush said.

“Especially the potato salad,” Tanner said.

“Bing, bing, bing!” Sharp Eddie said.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Weary said.

“We had a great time,” Pete Wysniewski said.

“Our best wishes for a felicitous day and many memorable and exuberant birthdays in your future,” Jim Thickpenny said.

“Happy birthday, Amber,” Hope said, stooping to give her niece a hug.

“Thank you, Hope!” Amber said, beaming at her. “Thank you, everybody! This has been the best birthday ever!”

Seeing her niece’s undiluted joy, Hope tried to put some energy into her smile, but she felt her sadness spread like thick, damp fog through her body. Even as her shoulders sagged, she heard her little voice kick in.

Don’t feel sorry for what you lost. You’ve worked hard so Amber—everyone—can be secure. Safe. So get back to the tables and win the ranch back.