"That's enough."
"Not a very good one, I'm afraid," Adam joked lightly, giving my leg another squeeze before dishing out roast beef onto my plate and then his. "No matter how many times the nuns gave me the strap most of it never sank in."
"You were taught by nuns, Dude?" Chuck laughed, Matt echoed it.
"They used corporal punishment?" Vi gasped at the same time.
"Yes to both questions," Adam laughed in his deep voice. "Don't worry Vi," he reassured my little sister, who was looking concerned. "That was a long time ago. They don't do that anymore."
"How old are you?" Vi asked with carefree curiosity. I almost interrupted to scold her for her rudeness, but stopped when I realized I wanted to hear the answer for myself, because I still had no idea what the answer was.
"Thirty-two," Adam said with a grin, passing my Mom the peas.
"Let the poor man eat," Mom admonished before Vi could fire off another question. I had a few of my own which I wanted to ask, but not with my family in the room. Adam sure as hell didn't look thirty-two.
The table fell to silence as we all dug into the huge and excellent meal. Mom had really outdone herself and everyone's enjoyment was evident as the piles of food grew continually smaller.
"S'good, Pat," my Dad said finally as he finished off the last of his meal. He gifted my mother with one of his rare smiles. "Thank you."
Mom beamed across the long table at Dad. "I had excellent help. Adam is a chef in town."
A glimmer of interest crossed Dad's stony face. "Really? Where?"
"At La Langoustine Fâchée ," Adam said nonchalantly. We all stared wordlessly at him. Even my Dad had heard of it, probably because La Langoustine was not only the best restaurant on the island and specialized in catering to a very distinctly wealthy group of customers, but it was also ranked one of the best restaurants in Canada.
I sat quietly beside Adam and felt like an idiot. Oh, how Rhiannon and Adele would laugh; they'd wanted me to date someone less career-oriented than my usual type, someone less focussed on their job. What would they say when they found out I'd slept with a chef from the province's most celebrated restaurant? The Queen ate there the last time she'd visited, for cryin' out loud. They'd die laughing.
"Oh, isn't that nice?" Mom gushed. "You must really enjoy that, Adam dear." She rose and started clearing plates.
Adam nodded, standing to his feet and collecting empty dishes. Automatically I did the same. "It's been worth the move to the Island."
"You're not from here?" Vi asked quickly, before anyone else could have the privilege.
"Sorry, but no. Wish I was. I love it here," Adam said with a grin. He took my Dad's empty plate and balanced it easily on his arm before doing the same with Joe's, Chuck's, and Matt's. We all watched the balancing act with trepidation, but none more than Mom, who I suspect feared a great deal for her best china. "I grew up just outside of Toronto."
Joe snorted rudely into his beer, only to be treated to another of Dad's ice-cold glares.
"Chuck just graduated from school in Toronto, didn't you Chuck?" Mom prompted happily, beaming as she took dirty plates from Adam.
"U of T?" Adam asked with interest.
"Yeah," Chuck said sheepishly, ducking his auburn head and grinning. "Engineering."
"Good for you, Mate," Adam slapped Chuck's shoulder as he passed. Vi and I stared open-mouthed at the friendly gesture. Dad actually smiled.
"We'll have dessert later," Mom suggested, eyeing the dirty pots and pans with a small smile. "After the girls and I clean up."
"I can help," Adam offered, sounding sincere.
"Don't be silly, dear. You helped cook, and besides you must see a lot of dirty dishes at work." Mom pulled the apron out of Adam's hands and passed it to me. "Why don't you and the other boys go outside? I know they must be dying to take a look at the nice motorcycle of
"Not a very good one, I'm afraid," Adam joked lightly, giving my leg another squeeze before dishing out roast beef onto my plate and then his. "No matter how many times the nuns gave me the strap most of it never sank in."
"You were taught by nuns, Dude?" Chuck laughed, Matt echoed it.
"They used corporal punishment?" Vi gasped at the same time.
"Yes to both questions," Adam laughed in his deep voice. "Don't worry Vi," he reassured my little sister, who was looking concerned. "That was a long time ago. They don't do that anymore."
"How old are you?" Vi asked with carefree curiosity. I almost interrupted to scold her for her rudeness, but stopped when I realized I wanted to hear the answer for myself, because I still had no idea what the answer was.
"Thirty-two," Adam said with a grin, passing my Mom the peas.
"Let the poor man eat," Mom admonished before Vi could fire off another question. I had a few of my own which I wanted to ask, but not with my family in the room. Adam sure as hell didn't look thirty-two.
The table fell to silence as we all dug into the huge and excellent meal. Mom had really outdone herself and everyone's enjoyment was evident as the piles of food grew continually smaller.
"S'good, Pat," my Dad said finally as he finished off the last of his meal. He gifted my mother with one of his rare smiles. "Thank you."
Mom beamed across the long table at Dad. "I had excellent help. Adam is a chef in town."
A glimmer of interest crossed Dad's stony face. "Really? Where?"
"At La Langoustine Fâchée ," Adam said nonchalantly. We all stared wordlessly at him. Even my Dad had heard of it, probably because La Langoustine was not only the best restaurant on the island and specialized in catering to a very distinctly wealthy group of customers, but it was also ranked one of the best restaurants in Canada.
I sat quietly beside Adam and felt like an idiot. Oh, how Rhiannon and Adele would laugh; they'd wanted me to date someone less career-oriented than my usual type, someone less focussed on their job. What would they say when they found out I'd slept with a chef from the province's most celebrated restaurant? The Queen ate there the last time she'd visited, for cryin' out loud. They'd die laughing.
"Oh, isn't that nice?" Mom gushed. "You must really enjoy that, Adam dear." She rose and started clearing plates.
Adam nodded, standing to his feet and collecting empty dishes. Automatically I did the same. "It's been worth the move to the Island."
"You're not from here?" Vi asked quickly, before anyone else could have the privilege.
"Sorry, but no. Wish I was. I love it here," Adam said with a grin. He took my Dad's empty plate and balanced it easily on his arm before doing the same with Joe's, Chuck's, and Matt's. We all watched the balancing act with trepidation, but none more than Mom, who I suspect feared a great deal for her best china. "I grew up just outside of Toronto."
Joe snorted rudely into his beer, only to be treated to another of Dad's ice-cold glares.
"Chuck just graduated from school in Toronto, didn't you Chuck?" Mom prompted happily, beaming as she took dirty plates from Adam.
"U of T?" Adam asked with interest.
"Yeah," Chuck said sheepishly, ducking his auburn head and grinning. "Engineering."
"Good for you, Mate," Adam slapped Chuck's shoulder as he passed. Vi and I stared open-mouthed at the friendly gesture. Dad actually smiled.
"We'll have dessert later," Mom suggested, eyeing the dirty pots and pans with a small smile. "After the girls and I clean up."
"I can help," Adam offered, sounding sincere.
"Don't be silly, dear. You helped cook, and besides you must see a lot of dirty dishes at work." Mom pulled the apron out of Adam's hands and passed it to me. "Why don't you and the other boys go outside? I know they must be dying to take a look at the nice motorcycle of
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