Kady couldn’t help giving a smile of pleasure. “Exactly. So sit down here and talk to me while I prepare dinner.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Luke said as he took a seat across the table, where she put him to work peeling the rest of the apples.
Luke talked while Kady worked quickly and efficiently. He repeated what Kady had already heard about the neglect of Tarik’s parents, but she had to keep her eyes lowered when Luke said he’d never seen his cousin so relaxed and smiling. “You’ve done something to him,” Luke said. “It didn’t take me two minutes to see that he’s not his usual quiet, mysterious self. When I was a kid, he used to visit Legend, but he’d disappear for days at a time. No one knew where he went. Both Wendell and I used to try to follow him, but he easily lost us. But today . . . With you . . .”
Kady refused to give any weight to Luke’s words. “I’m sure that if he brought a girlfriend up here, he would have—”
“He did once. When Wendell wasn’t here, of course. His girlfriend was so frightened of the coyotes’ howling that Tarik took her back to town the next day.”
“Tarik,” Kady said softly. “Did you know that in New York people don’t know his name?”
Luke gave a one-sided grin so like Tarik’s that Kady had to look away. “Private man. Very private. So tell me about you, Kady. Why did you marry my taciturn cousin?”
Kady didn’t want to talk about herself, she wanted to listen. “Come outside to gather herbs with me and tell me about his dream.”
Smiling, Luke followed her outside as Kady gathered herbs, explaining that, all his life, Tarik had had a dream of a little girl on a pony. When he was a child, he used to say that she was his best friend and that she was going to come live with him. His fantasies about the little girl were a family joke.
After they returned to the house, Kady listened intently as she wielded a rolling pin. She was making fazzolétto, handkerchief pasta: whole leaves of herbs were rolled between transparently fine layers of pasta, then cut into sheets to show the beauty of the pattern. There was no time to make her usual three-hour tomato sauce, so she used canned tomatoes, onions, and herbs.
For dessert, she made a tarte tatin, one of the most divine dishes ever created: caramelized butter and sugar covered with a dozen apples sliced paper thin, cooked on top of the stove, then a round of flaky pastry put on top, baked until golden brown, and at last the whole thing was turned upside down onto a plate. It was almost as beautiful as it was delicious.
At about seven o’clock in the evening, everyone began showing up, enticed by the smells coming from the open windows of the house. Hannibal looked as though he’d been working in the mines, as his clothes were flecked with rock dust. Wendell still wore her black leather, but she’d put on even more makeup, making Kady wonder how she could lift her eyelids when they were so weighted down with mascara.
As for Tarik, he came in last and from the rolled-eyed looks of reproof that Wendell gave him, Kady didn’t think they had spent the afternoon together after all. Not that it mattered to her, of course, but as she turned away, she smiled. Then she began to wonder where he had been, for Tarik was very dirty, wi
th mud on his shoes and another streak of mud on one cheek.
Kady was pleased to see that her meal was a great hit with each of Tarik’s relatives. Even Wendell managed to look impressed. With her breath held, Kady waited for Uncle Hannibal’s opinion. Maybe something as pretty as fazzolétto wouldn’t suit him. But he ate without any comment.
After the meal everyone retired to the porch to sit on chairs and enjoy the cool night air. When Tarik sat on the rail, Wendell immediately moved her chair so she was sitting nearly at his feet. As for Kady, she took a chair at the far side of the porch.
Uncle Hannibal leaned back in his rocking chair, picking his teeth with a toothpick. “Kady, girl, if you weren’t already married, after that meal, I’d ask for your hand myself.”
It took Kady a moment to realize that he was teasing her—or was he?—then she smiled and told him that she would seriously consider his proposal.
After that Luke told her that he had a law degree and a beautiful apartment in Denver and he’d also like to marry her.
At this Wendell pointed out that Kady already had a husband and she also owned the town. “Isn’t that enough for one woman?”
“Nothing’s ever been enough for you, big sister,” Luke said, and this would have started an argument, but Tarik halted it by telling them all that yes, Kady already had a husband and they had better not forget it.
“Luke, if you’re a lawyer,” Kady said, “do you think that a marriage certificate that is dated a hundred and twenty years ago is valid today?”
Luke looked from Tarik to Kady. “No, I don’t think so. Why? Was such an error made on your marriage certificate?”
“Computer error,” Hannibal said as though he was a programmer and knew about these things.
“It was handwritten,” Kady said.
“Computer fonts today are amazing, aren’t they?” Tarik said, smiling.
“Now that you mention it,” Luke said, looking toward Tarik, “I was wondering how you two managed to get married in secret. I would have thought your mother would have put on a wedding the size of Alaska.”
“Yes, boy, now that I think of it, why weren’t we invited to the wedding?” Hannibal asked, his prophet-face back in place.
All eyes were on Tarik, especially Kady’s. If Uncle Hannibal found out they weren’t married, would he toss them out of Legend? If he did that, would she ever have a chance to help Ruth?
As though the conversation didn’t interest him in the least, Tarik stood and stretched. “Neither of you are going to get her so you can stop looking for loopholes. She’s married to me no matter what that piece of paper says.” Smiling, he looked down at Kady. “Besides, if we weren’t married, I’d see no reason for us to stay here and try to go through any doorways, do you? Shall we take the blue bedroom, Uncle Hannibal?”