Page 86 of You First
At this, Gray laughed so hard, he leaned back against the loveseat cushions with tears in his eyes. “Yes, because that’s exactly the word that leaps to mind when I think of you.”
Watching him laugh made her laugh too, but she couldn’t help but wonder what words she did bring to mind.
“Well, Ruth’s Chris takeout is certainly a first for me,” she said, regarding the labeled bag. “Why do they call it Ruth’s Chris Steak House, anyway? I’ve always thought that was odd.”
Wiping his eyes with the heels of his hand, Gray forked another bite of steak into his mouth and said, cryptically. “Ruth Fertel.”
“What?”
“She’s kind of a New Orleans legend,” Gray said. “In the sixties, Ruth Fertel found herself divorced with two kids. She wanted to be able to send her sons to college, and she knew she couldn’t do it on whatever she was making at the time — I think she was working at Tulane as a lab tech or something — so she decided to go all in on the purchase of the Chris Steak House on Broad Street.”
“Seriously?”
Gray’s eyes smiled at her. “Yeah, and she was this tiny, little thing. About your size, and in the beginning, she did it all. She taught herself how to butcher steaks and cut up sides of beef by hand until she could afford the heavy-duty equipment.” He seemed to enjoy telling her the story, and Meredith listened, intrigued. “Everyone told her she’d go bankrupt, but that didn’t happen. When she started hiring staff, she only chose single mothers because she said they were the hardest workers.” He arched a brow and gave her a meaningful glance.
“How do you know all this?” she asked, a little awed.
“Well, my mom told us all about her — every time we went to Ruth’s Chris, in fact, but I think most New Orleans natives know something about Ruth Fertel. Like I said, she’s a bit of a legend. For years, Ruth’s Chris was the only restaurant in NOLA with an all-female wait staff.”
“That is so cool.”
Gray nodded. “I know, right?”
“See, that just proves my point.”
“What point?” His focus narrowed on her.
“The fact that you know so much more than me. I don’t see how I can compete.”
He gave her a wry look. “I didn’t realize we were competing.”
She swatted at his knee, making him laugh. “You know what I mean.”
“Meredith, you know a lot of things I don’t know.”
She rolled her eyes. He was so much more worldly and sophisticated than she was. “Name one.”
Gray didn’t miss a beat. “You know what it’s like to have a child.”
He’s got you there.
“Well, yeah… but I didn’t plan that.”
“Well, yeah… but,” he mimicked, chuckling, “I didn’t plan on being born in New Orleans, either. Your life experience is no less valid than mine.”
Meredith blinked. Had she been trying to suggest that her life experience was less valid? Was she just airing her insecurities? Or did this have to do with fear?
“That’s not what I meant,” she said as honestly as she could.
Gray nudged his food away, and leaned back against the loveseat. “What did you mean?” He brought his fingers back to his forehead and absently rubbed them back and forth.
Now, knowing what she knew, every time he showed pain, Meredith wanted to whimper. She reached for him instead, her fingers brushing his aside and picking up where she’d left off the day before, rubbing in easy circles.
He dropped his head into her right hand and shut his eyes. “Mmm… God, I love that,” he whispered almost plaintively.
Sitting side by side, she couldn’t tend to him like she wanted to. So she rotated to face him, climbing in his lap and putting a knee on either side of his thighs. His eyes opened at once.
“Don’t get any ideas, soldier.”
