Katie's New Recipe Read online

  Peanut butter and jam,

  eggs and ham,

  milk and toast,

  and potatoes and roast.

  These are the things that I like most.

  We had to write a poem for our assignment, and I was still working on mine. Somehow I couldn’t quite get it, maybe because my head was in so many other places.

  Finally, the day came for Operation Chez Donald. Getting past Mom was pretty easy.

  “Mom, Mia and I are going to go shopping,” I said.

  “Okay. Where?” Mom asked. She was putting on makeup in her mirror—light blue eye shadow! Then she was trying all different things with her hair—putting it up, parting it on the side, fluffing it all out. It was nuts. Who was this new fashion-conscious person in my mom’s body?

  Anyway, I couldn’t completely lie to her. “There’s this new boutique or something that opened in Stonebrook, and she wants to go.”

  If Mom remembered that my dad lived in Stonebrook, it didn’t concern her. After all, we go to Stonebrook sometimes. It’s no big deal.

  “Fine,” Mom said. “When are you going?”

  “Around eleven thirty,” I said. “Dan’s driving us.”

  Mom put down her makeup wand and smiled. “That’s nice of him. Your friends have such nice brothers.”

  “Yeah,” I replied, and my heart was pounding. Then I quickly went to my room before she changed her mind.

  I was starting to feel more nervous every minute. I had washed my hair that morning, so even though it was still boring and straight, it was shiny and clean. I wanted to wear jeans and a T-shirt, as usual, but Mia checked the restaurant’s website, and she said it looked a little fancier than that. So Mia had come over on Friday to help me pick out an outfit from my closet.

  I changed into the denim skirt and blue shirt with lace around the collar that Mia had selected. She was bringing me a pair of blue flats with little bows on them to borrow because pretty much all I have are sneakers and beach sandals. When I looked in the mirror, I had to admit that I looked pretty nice.

  I wouldn’t be embarrassed to have me as a daughter, I thought, and my stomach started to flip-flop. That was one of my worries. What if my father took one look at me and was like, “Uh, no, thanks. I was kind of hoping for someone else”? That would be awful. If everything worked out, he would get to see me in jeans and a T-shirt a lot, but I wanted to make a good first impression.

  “My, you look nice,” Mom commented as I walked past her room.

  “Well, um, Mia said the boutique is kind of fancy, so I wanted to fit in,” I said. “No big deal.” Then I thought a second. “You know, you’ve spruced up, so I figured I should spruce up too.”

  It made sense, right? Even if it sounded a little mean. But Mom didn’t seem to notice.

  She picked up a tube from her dresser. “Do you want to use some lip gloss?” she asked.

  “No, thanks!” I said nervously. A skirt was one thing. Lip gloss was just going too far.

  Thankfully, I heard a car beep outside.

  “That’s Mia. Bye, Mom!” I said, racing to the front door.

  “Bye, Katie! Love you!” she called after me.

  “Love you too!” I said, and I felt a guilty pang. I really didn’t like lying to her like this.

  I ran outside and then climbed into the backseat of Dan’s car. Mia looked nice, as always, in a black-and-white polka-dot skirt and a white blouse.

  “Thanks for taking us, Dan,” I said as I buckled my seat belt.

  “Whatever,” Dan replied. He doesn’t talk much, but he really is nice.

  Then he took off, blasting heavy metal music so loud that I couldn’t talk to Mia at all. A few minutes later he pulled in front of the restaurant on Main Street in Stonebrook.

  “We’ll text you when we’re done,” Mia said.

  “Okay,” Dan replied, and then he drove away.

  Mia and I stood outside the restaurant, staring at the sign: CHEZ DONALD.

  “I guess this is it,” I said.

  “It’ll be fine,” Mia said. “We don’t have to do anything besides look at him, remember?”

  “But how will I know who he is?” I suddenly realized. “I don’t even know what he looks like.” I had tried to find a picture on the Internet, but Mom had all these crazy controls, so I could barely get to any pages.

  “If he’s the owner, then he’ll be walking around in a suit and checking on tables,” Mia said. “Besides, I think when you see him, you’ll just know, you know?”

  I nodded. That made sense to me. After all, if he was my father, we probably had some kind of invisible bond, like radar. For a split second I imagined him walking to our table and saying, Katie! My long-lost daughter!

  “Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go in.”

  We stepped inside a wide, bright space with gleaming, dark wood floors. The walls were pale yellow on top, with dark wood on the bottom half. The tables were set with crisp white tablecloths and gleaming glass.

  There was a hostess podium in front of us, and part of me had hoped my dad would be standing there. But instead there was a young woman with sleek black hair pulled back into a bun and red lipstick. She wore a simple, sleeveless black dress.

  “May I help you?” she asked us. She looked at us with a questioning look. I guess it was a little weird that two girls like us would be at a fancy place for lunch. I almost wanted to turn back right then and there.

  “We’d like a table for two, please,” Mia said. She grew up in Manhattan, so she knows how to do stuff like this, which is a good thing, because I was too nervous to say a word.

  The hostess looked at us for a minute, then picked up two menus and then led us to a small table in the corner.

  “Your server will be with you shortly,” she said.

  “Thank you,” Mia said with a sweet smile.

  I started nervously glancing around the restaurant. “There’re lots of guys in suits walking around! Any one of them could be him,” I said in a loud whisper.

  “Those are waiters,” Mia told me. “They’re all dressed alike, see? And they’re not wearing suits, just black shirts and ties.”

  Then a man walked by in a gray suit. “What about him?” I asked.

  “He’s way too young,” she pointed out. “Besides, he’s just going to the bathroom.”

  I craned my neck to look at the tables behind us. “There’s a guy in a suit over there.”

  “And he’s eating,” Mia said. “Why don’t we look at a menu? We’re supposed to be eating here, remember?”

  “Right. Stick to the plan,” I said, picking up the menu. “Oh my gosh! Twenty-four dollars for calves’ liver and onion confit? I only brought twenty bucks with me. And what the heck is confit anyway?”

  “It’s pronounced ’con-fee,’ ” Mia explained. “Dad and I go to this French restaurant sometimes. Just relax. We can order a salad.”

  “I don’t even see salads in here,” I said, frantically scanning the pages. “What’s ’les poissons’? Poison? Is that some crazy culinary trend?”

  “It’s French for ’fish,’ ” Mia explained patiently. “And they do have salads. See? Here.” She pointed to a list of salads on the page.

  “They’re, like, twelve dollars,” I said. “For lettuce? That’s crazy.”

  A server came by and asked us if we wanted bottled water. “Tap water will be fine, thank you,” Mia replied. Thank goodness for Mia!

  “We can each have a salad and some water, and everything will be all right,” Mia assured me. “Why don’t you just take a deep breath?”

  I tried, but it didn’t help. My palms were sweating, and I felt shaky all over. “I think I need to go to the bathroom,” I said.

  I got up and then walked in the direction I had seen that guy in the suit headed. The restrooms were tastefully tucked behind a barrier in the back of the restaurant. The wall leading to the restroom doors was decorated with framed newspaper reviews of the place.

&n
bsp; And then I stopped in my tracks.

  “Family Man Brings French Cuisine to Stonebrook.” That was the headline of this one article. Underneath it was a picture of a smiling guy with brown hair, with his arm around a small blond woman. In front of them were three little girls in frilly dresses. My stomach was tight as I read the caption underneath: “Marc Donald Brown with his wife, Helene, and their three daughters.”

  Three daughters. No mention of a fourth daughter, Katie Brown, who lives right next door in Maple Grove. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop reading the article. It was all about how my dad had decided to open his restaurant in Stonebrook instead of New York City, so he wouldn’t miss his kids growing up.

  “ ’Family is everything to me,’ Donald says. ’I knew what I’d be sacrificing if I were commuting to Manhattan every day. Luckily, I found this space in Stonebrook, just minutes away from home. And I’ve tried to create a warm, inviting space where families can enjoy coming together.’ ”

  I started to shake. Family is everything? He must have meant his new family, because obviously his old family meant nothing to him. Nothing. I started to feel tears sting my eyes. How important could family be to him if he hadn’t even seen me or spoken to me since I was two?

  Suddenly, I felt Mia’s hand on my arm. “Katie, there you are! The waiter came by to take our order, but I told him to wait. Are you okay?”

  I was so choked up that I couldn’t answer her. Mia followed my eyes to the article on the wall. She was quiet for a minute as she read it, and then I heard her say, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  I didn’t argue. I tried as hard as I could to hold back the tears as I followed Mia through the restaurant.

  “Sorry, my friend isn’t feeling well,” she told the hostess as we passed the station, and the woman gave me a sympathetic nod.

  Then we were back out in the cool spring air, and my knees almost buckled. It was silly of me to think that lying about this wasn’t going to hurt anybody. Because of course it had hurt someone—me.

  “I’ll text Dan,” Mia said. “He shouldn’t take too long to get back here.”

  As Mia texted, I heard the beep of someone activating a car alarm and then looked up. A man was getting out of a fancy black car parked in front of the restaurant. He was tall, with wavy brown hair and green eyes, just like the guy in the newspaper photo.

  And then it hit me. It was the guy in the photo. I was about to come face-to-face with my dad.

  CHAPTER 16

  Heartbreak

  What happened next felt like it took place in slow motion. Marc Donald Brown walked from his car to the sidewalk. He was swinging his keys and whistling. As he passed me and Mia, he smiled.

  “Hello, girls,” he said.

  Then he kept walking and went into the restaurant.

  I froze. My father, my very own father, had just walked right past me. He didn’t even recognize me. I started to feel sick to my stomach again.

  Mia must have remembered him from the picture too.

  “Katie, I’m so sorry,” she said.

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Why did I think he would recognize me? The last time he saw me, I was toddling around in diapers. Obviously that invisible father-daughter bond I had imagined was just ridiculous. But that didn’t make me feel any better. I thought about the heartfelt reunion I had been dreaming about and felt like a fool.

  “I just want my mom,” I said. My voice was hoarse.

  “Let’s wait down on the corner,” Mia suggested. “Dan will be here soon.”

  When Dan picked us up, I didn’t mind the heavy metal blasting from the speakers, because it kind of matched what was going on in my brain. The loud music drowned out what I was feeling, and I was glad not to have to talk.

  When we got to my house, I ran to the front door. All I wanted to do was fall into my mom’s arms and cry. When I got inside, she was in the living room, standing in front of the mirror on our coat closet. She had on lots of makeup and another new dress I had never seen before. This one was really pretty, with blue and yellow flowers.

  Suddenly I wasn’t sad anymore, I was angry. I knew Mom was dressed up because she was going to see that secret boyfriend of hers. It wasn’t fair. I just wanted everything to go back to normal: just me and Mom, with no dads or boyfriends or anybody else.

  “Katie!” Mom said, surprised to see me back so soon. Then she looked at my face, and I could see her worried look creep over her face. “What’s wrong?”

  I could barely speak. I was shaking. I knew my face was bright pink, like it gets when I’m about to cry. Finally, I just sputtered, “Everything! Everything is wrong!”

  I was so angry that I felt like somebody else was in control of my body. I stomped upstairs to my room and slammed the door really hard. Then I flopped down onto my bed. I could feel the hot tears in my eyes, and I just started to cry.

  A few minutes later I heard a knock on my door.

  “Katie, I’ve told you that slamming your door is unacceptable,” Mom said through the door in her scolding voice. “If you are angry or upset, it’s okay, but you need to act your age and try to talk about it. Even if it’s just to say, ’I’m in a bad mood and need some time to myself.’ ”

  I lifted my head off my pillow. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going on dates?” I yelled. Then I put the pillow over my head. It felt good to get that out.

  Mom didn’t answer right away. Then I heard the creak of the door opening and felt Mom sit down on the edge of the bed.

  “I don’t know if they are dates, really,” she said softly. “I’m just getting to know this person. I enjoy his company. But I didn’t think it was appropriate yet to tell you about him, and—Wait a minute. How did you know?”

  I took the pillow off my head and then sat up a little. I knew my hair was all messed up and there were tears still running down my face. “You’ve been different,” I told her. “You wear more makeup and you cut your hair. You got all new clothes. You sing. And you’ve been running with someone in the park.”

  Mom looked surprised. “Oh! Did you see me in the park?”

  “I followed you,” I said. I was tired of keeping secrets.

  “Katie! I don’t like being spied on,” Mom said, and for a second she looked really angry. “Sometimes I’m going to do things that don’t concern you, and you just need to trust me.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “Is there anything else?” Mom asked.

  I hesitated for a minute. I wasn’t sure if she would understand about Operation Chez Donald, but I felt like I had to go for it. Like I said, I was tired of keeping secrets.

  I took a deep breath. I started to cry again, and Mom stopped looking angry.

  “Katie, what else?” she said in a more gentle voice. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mia and I found out that Dad owns a restaurant in Stonebrook, Chez Donald,” I began. “It’s . . . it’s where Mia’s mom and Eddie go a lot. And . . . Well . . . Well, I just wanted to see him, to see how I felt. I wanted to know what he looked like and to see what he would say when he saw me.” I stopped. I was crying pretty hard. Mom looked so sad. She put her arm around me and smoothed my hair. I leaned into her arm, and I could feel her take a deep breath.

  “Oh, Katie,” she said. “What happened?”

  And then I told her the whole story about Dan driving us and our plan to just see him and even about the newspaper article.

  “Okay, right now I’m not going to talk to you about lying to me, especially about where you are going. We’ll talk about that later.”

  “There’s more,” I said.

  Mom looked at me worriedly.

  “He . . . ” And I started to cry again just thinking about it. “He . . . ”

  Then she figured it out. “You saw him?” Mom asked.

  I nodded. “But he didn’t see me. Well, he did, but he didn’t even recognize me, Mom! He drove up to the restaurant and then got out of his car. He looked at me an
d said hi. Then he walked right by me. He didn’t stop. His own daughter! How could he do that?”

  Then Mom started to cry.

  “Oh, Katie,” she said, wrapping her arms around me. Mom cried almost as hard as I did. “Oh, honey, I’m so, so sorry. But maybe he truly didn’t recognize you. You look so different now, I can hardly believe it, and I see you every day. The last time your dad saw you, you were still practically a baby. You’re a young woman now.” She brushed the hair out of my face. “I’m sure your dad would have remembered you if he looked closely.”

  I let Mom hug me for a while, and it felt nice. After what seemed like a long time, I stopped crying, and we sat there for a while longer.

  Finally, she said, “Katie, do you want to meet your father?”

  “I don’t think so,” I replied quickly, and as soon as I said it, I knew I meant it. “Just seeing him today was weird enough. I can’t imagine sitting across from him and, like, trying to have a conversation with him, as if everything is normal. Because it’s not. I don’t understand how he can say family is everything when”—I started to cry again—“when I’ve never been important to him. I don’t understand why he left.”

  “I don’t either,” Mom said honestly. “I don’t know why he left us.”

  Then I realized that Mom said “us.” I always knew my father left me, but I never really thought about the fact that he left Mom, too. I wondered if she had been as sad as I was knowing that he had another family.

  “You never asked him?” I said.

  “Like I said before, we haven’t spoken in years,” Mom said. “You’d have to ask him. All I know is that we were young, and he was nervous about becoming a father. I think he just panicked and left. And then the more time passed, I think, the harder it was to come back to see you. I think he’s probably wanted to write that e-mail for a long time, Katie.”

  I thought that too.

  “Here’s what I want you to remember,” Mom said, holding my face with both hands. “You are very, very important to me. You’re the most important thing to me in my whole life. You know that, right?”