Food for Thought

Food for Thought Read Free Page A

Book: Food for Thought Read Free
Author: Amy Lane
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movies!” He did . In fact, he was starting to like them more now, because romances were icky with girls! Or, uhm, watching them with his girlfriend was icky. Uncomfortable. Watching romances with his girlfriend with whom he had not yet consummated the relationship was uncomfortable. “I, uhm, like their mood,” he said weakly, smiling into Vinnie’s eyes the same way he’d smiled into Vinnie’s mother’s eyes.
    Vinnie stared back at him, long Italian face unmoved and unimpressed.
    “Their mood.”
    Emmett smiled brightly. God, he’d wanted to tell Vinnie about Jordyn—he really had. But Vinnie had been so excited about Angela, and Emmett hadn’t wanted to bring up the stupid way he’d fantasized about Vinnie’s full lips and warm brown eyes when they were in junior high.
    “Their mood. I like their mood.”
    “You know, Emmett, you could still come to the family picnic and to Christmas and Thanksgiving if you, uhm, brought a date who didn’t have boobs, you know that, right?”
    At that moment, Vinnie’s uncle Jimbo walked by, a “Marriage is for one man and one woman” T-shirt proudly stretched tightly across his prodigious man-maries. Emmett looked pointedly at Jimbo and then back at Vinnie, who shrugged, unimpressed.
    “Mom loves you more than Uncle Jimbo,” he said, without batting an eyelash. “In fact, she loves you more than most of her other children. Except Cecily. She’s the baby, and Mom loves her best—and that’s okay. But you, she loves.”
    Emmett couldn’t keep looking him in the eyes anymore. It was getting embarrassing, and his eyes were starting to water.
    “I… uhm, you know. You’re like my only family,” Emmett said. He didn’t want to say any more, didn’t want to think about his dad, with his slow smile and his outsized hands, and the way he’d wait outside on his front porch for Emmett to show up on his Sunday visits home from college. Emmett still found himself, Sunday mornings, waking up excited about driving to visit his dad, and not able to remember why he couldn’t do that anymore until he was in his underwear, making coffee.
    Which was usually why Keegan came over on Sunday mornings, but nobody knew that but Emmett.
    “Emmett,” Vinnie said gently, “you’re my brother. And you’re not going to be any less of my brother if you and this girl don’t work out.”
    “You’d like her,” Emmett said with conviction. But Vinnie liked everybody. Hell, Vinnie would probably like Keegan, too, and Keegan was an acquired taste.
    “I’m sure I would,” Vinnie said grimly. “But I’m not the one who has to sleep with her, so the question is, do you want her?”
    “That hot dog is burning,” Emmett said a little desperately.
    Vinnie just shook his head and sighed, and Emmett held out the plate so Vinnie could unload the dogs. The ribs still had a ways to go.
     
     
    B UT IN spite of the constant prying into Emmett’s love life, the reunion was a success. Happy children, mildly drunk adults, and nobody set themselves on fire during the pyrotechnic portion of the show. The next morning, after the giant after-meal of waffles and bacon, Emmett retreated to Vinnie’s old room to pack. (Vinnie and Angela lived in town—they just drove to and from Vinnie’s mom’s house, and Emmett was always surprised at how venomously he envied his friend for something that simple.)
    Flora came in after him.
    “Here,” she said without ceremony, and dropped a book on his suitcase.
    Emmett eyeballed the book and then picked it up gingerly. “Flora, this looks really old .”
    “Well, yes—it’s sort of an heirloom. Somebody’s grandmother’s aunt’s cousin or whatever. Made five copies, gave one to each child. And then my aunt gives it to my cousin who gives it to me.”
    Emmett picked the book up with a little bit of reverence. It was battered, hand-bound, hand-typed pages tied together with what looked to be old leather lacings, with a leather cover. On the front, he

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