Joseph began to ladle the food onto her plate, and she stopped him when she had more than enough of the spicy pasta. With a whimsical smile crossing her face he sat across from her. He saw the smile and wondered what she was thinking.
Jewel knew she could get used to this. Someone taking care of her for a change. Something like what her parents had. But with a man like Joseph, she really didn’t know what to expect. But she was going to enjoy the ride, and like he’d said, she, no they, would just take it one day at a time.
Picking up her fork when Joseph did, Jewel dug in. She was anxious to try his cooking. The aroma from walking in had gotten to her. Her first bite of the spaghetti was divine. It was the perfect texture. “The sauce is perfect. Not too fiery, so you taste the peppers and garlic.”
He winked at her. “From you, I’ll take that as a real compliment.”
She smiled. “It was. I love to cook, but rarely do others cook for me. This is a real treat.”
“I’m glad. It was one of the reasons why I wanted to cook. Maybe I’ll do it again if I don’t poison you.” His teasing tone helped her to relax. Jewel found it hard to believe that a man so handsome wanted to spend time with her. Cook for her. She hoped her attraction to him wasn’t clouding her judgment. He wasn’t your typical Native American in appearance, but the features were there. The chiseled cheekbones, the square jaw. His skin was paler than his siblings, but she knew from the rumor mill that his father was white, although no one knew who he was. She herself was of mixed blood, though those traits were not dominant in her genetic makeup. Her great grandmother had been African American.
Whoever his father was he must have been quite handsome, she thought as she used the tiny fork to pluck a muscle out if its shell. It was tender. Perfect. The only stories heard on the reserve about Tawny’s offspring was that she had met someone while attending Yale. And he’d fathered her two oldest children. But it hadn’t worked out. Young love rarely did. Then years later when the boys had started school, her work had taken her to Washington. Once more she had come back to Lantern Hill pregnant, but this time with the twins. But she’d never married. She had dedicated her life to her children, and to her people. By all counts she had been a great mother as well as a community leader. And she had done remarkable things for the Eastern Pequot. Her own parents had greatly respected her. She was a remarkable woman that had first gained them federal recognition as a tribe. That battle had been waging for over a century. Then finally state recognition had been achieved six years later. That status, that recognition, had saved their people from further decimating their already dwindling tribe. It really had been their salvation. Without it, their people would have continued to scatter to the winds, left the area, to find their way in the world. But with the recognition, had come laws to protect and serve them. Cultural renewal opportunities, grants, federal funding, education, and of course, the Casino had followed. And the casino meant financial well-being. Since then, they had begun the process of rebuilding. Everyone knew Tawny Sassacus, or knew of her. She was a true inspiration and hero.
Her fight for state recognition had been arduous, and many times people doubted she would have achieved it. The state had fought it bitterly, not wanting another casino in the Constitution State. But finally she’d won over their support. It hadn’t been long afterwards that she’d brokered the deal with several Malaysian bankers to make Mystic Nights a reality.
So pleased with her work, twenty five years of it on their behalf, the newly created tribal council voted for her to run the place. And in four years, since the ribbon had been cut at the grand opening of The Mystic Casino Resort & Spa, she had made it a smashing success, with her children working right alongside of her.
The tribe was just beginning to reap the benefits of the Casino now. They had constructed twenty new homes last year, and twenty more were under construction. But still the housing crisis was not fixed completely as more Pequot began to come home. There were many families still waiting for housing. That would be a long process indeed. And it was one of the reasons she’d had to leave the reservation when her parents had been killed.
Throughout dinner, Joseph talked about himself and his family. She really appreciated him opening up to her. He’d surprised her when he told her that he and all of his siblings had same father. The brothers looked so different than the girls.
“They take more after my mother’s side of the family, I guess.” He shrugged it off simply.