Hungry for More

CHAPTER 26



James was called back to the kitchen for a lamb emergency, leaving Amy in the walk-in with the clipboard and the lettuce crates. As soon as he was gone, she realized with full force the bind she was in. She felt betrayed. Gypsies didn’t con other Gypsies.

People betray other people. Mothers betray daughters. Fathers betray sons. Happens all the time, stupid.

James could betray her.

It could happen. She’d have nothing.

When he was in front of her, holding her, she was sure of him. I had wanted him over Maddie.

But when he was gone, all her emptiness and doubt rushed in.

Amy kicked the middle crate. Hard. The crash of the crates toppling onto the concrete floor echoed around the walk-in, but no one came. Amy sank to the floor, hugging her knees, her back against the shelves.



“Choose love,” Oprah said.

“That’s easy for you to say.” Amy reached for a head of lettuce that had fallen from the broken crate. She peeled back a leaf. He loves me. Then another. He loves me not. Amy felt light. Everything had changed. All her doubts about James being too cultured and settled for her evaporated.

But Roni lied. James might still be Amy’s One True Love.

He loves me. He loves me not. The darker outer leaves were gone from the head, exposing the more delicate leaves below. “Have I already lost Maddie forever by loving James, Oprah?”

Oprah shrugged. “I don’t know what goes on in your crazy Gypsy spirit world, honey.”

“Maddie was at the channeling. She was, Oprah. I felt her there. So why would she promise to come back if I’ve already blown it? See, that’s why I think I haven’t blown it yet.” Amy had peeled back enough leaves to expose the heart of the lettuce. The leaves were tender now, such a light green that they were translucent. He loves me. He loves me not. Discarded leaves lay around her as if they’d fallen from a tree. “It could be that James is not my One True Love. Or, it could be the way it is in the stories, that I have to say the words I love you to him to lose Maddie forever.”

“Or you could ask James to teach you to cook,” Oprah said.

Amy looked incredulous. “Cook? How can you talk about cooking at a time like this? I’m trying to get my life figured out here. This is pivotal, Oprah.” Sheesh, that woman always had food on her mind.

Amy thought back to the stories her father and grandmother had told her about the Gypsy legends surrounding Maddie. In all those stories, you actually had to say the words I love you before everything was lost. Like a fairy tale.

But life was no fairy tale.

Or was it? Maddie was such a wuss, Amy wouldn’t be surprised if she lived her life by fairy-tale-land rules.

“I’m talking about cooking,” Oprah said, talking loudly to penetrate Amy’s racing thoughts, “because you could use it to build a life without Maddie.”


“Oprah, I suck at everything I’ve tried in this place. My carrot dice still gets trashed after I leave. They think I don’t notice.”

“You haven’t tried.” Oprah’s lips were drawn tight.

He loves me. He loves me not. Amy had a stub of tiny, frilled lettuce leaves the size of her thumb left. The heart, it was called. Stupid hearts. If Amy left right now, this second, before she said those magic words I love you to James, she could go to Baltimore, hit up her sister Cecelia for Troy’s cash, get Maddie back, and never see James again. Or, better yet, she could go to New York or L.A. or wherever her other sister Jasmine and her famous, movie-star husband, Josh Toby, were right now. Josh would give Troy the cash to go to France or to chef school or wherever the kid had to go to fulfill his dreams. And she’d get Maddie back.

If I left right now. Before I commit to loving James.

He loves me. He loves me not. A tiny knot of leaves were left, folded over each other as if they were asleep.

“You’re still just guessing about everything,” Oprah reminded her. “Isn’t it about time you found out if James is your One True Love for sure?”

Down at the corner of the walk-in was her mark, the upside-down horseshoe with the A inside that she had drawn when she was originally going to leave.

She should have split then.

“Oprah, I don’t need Maddie or Roni to tell me; I knew the minute I laid eyes on that man that he was my One True Love. But you’re right. I’ll find out for sure. And if he’s my soul mate, I’m out of here.”

She pulled off the last leaf: he loves me.

I think I love him, too.

She ate the stupid last leaf, kicked the rest of the scattered leaves under the shelves, then went upstairs to find Roni. It was time to find out if James was her One True Love once and for all.



“Do you think she bought it?” Roni asked Madame Prizzo. Roni had snuck out through the back alley door and now sat in Madame Prizzo’s Mercedes, which was idling in the handicapped spot. The heat radiating through the car’s seats lulled Roni into a sleepy trance. She was always so sleepy.

Madame Prizzo said, “Yes. I’m sure she did. But I didn’t like that James character being there one bit.”

“Did the voice really show this time? Or was that you?”

Madame Prizzo shook her head. “I felt a presence in the room, but it didn’t enter me. That disturbs me. It’s the second time it’s come. I made the rest up about Amy having to help Troy. But you already knew that.”

Roni sank back into the leather seat. In just a few days, this con would be over and she’d have her own Mercedes, her own heated seats.

Wait. That wasn’t the point of all this.

The point was Troy. Troy would have his tuition and trip to France, and her baby would have a future.

If there was anything left over, she’d get the car. She ran her hands down the lush seats. Her hands weren’t shaking at all anymore, and she had taken only two pills that morning, down from her usual three. “I still think we should just take the necklace and run.”

“No. Too dangerous. We have to con her without ever letting her know she’s been conned. That’s the difference between common crooks and us. I have no intention of giving up my place at the club to go on the run from some bimbo Rom and her knife-wielding boyfriend.”

“But won’t she know she’s being conned when the voice doesn’t come back?”

“No, honey. Not if we play it right. After all, that woman knows deep down inside that she’s too selfish and self-centered to truly win Maddie back. Anyway, what can we do? It won’t be our fault. We’re just bystanders, remember? We can’t control the voice, can we? She’ll just have to keep giving more and more until you tell her that—what do you know—the voice has left you, too.”





Special a la Tres Fleurs

Roasted rack of lamb with bean quenelle

—JAMES LACHANCE, Meal of a Lifetime,

THE MENU: ENTREES