Texas Miracle. Gwen Ford Faulkenberry
I don’t suppose a great Indian joint popped up since I left?”
“Actually...”
“No way! In Kilgore?”
Mac laughed. “Not in Kilgore. But I’ve heard about one in Tyler. My sister-in-law Gillian swears by it, and she lives with a five-star chef, so I imagine it’s pretty good. But I’ve never been there. Wouldn’t even know what to order.”
“You don’t like Indian food?”
“I’ve never tried it. I’m more of a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy.”
Jacqueline looked at him as if he had grown horns. “Do you mean to tell me you have never tasted Indian food? In your whole life?”
“Obviously, I am not cultured. In the least.”
“Do you have any interest in trying it?”
“I’m not opposed, especially since you are in the mood for it. I’d like to take you there.”
Jacqueline’s eyes warmed. “Let’s go, then! It is high time you experienced chicken tikka masala.”
“Chicken what?”
“Chicken tikka masala. It’s my favorite Indian dish. It’s spicy, aromatic, delicious.”
“Sounds scary.”
“You’ll love it.”
Mac called Gillian on his cell phone to get the name of the place, which was R and R Curry. She warned him it was a hole in the wall, and when he drove up to it after following her directions, he saw she wasn’t kidding. It was in the back of a gas station. “This is a little embarrassing,” he said to Jacqueline.
“Why?”
“Because.” Mac searched for the words. Because you look like a movie star and I’m taking you to a gas station for dinner? “I had no intentions of taking you to a dive for dinner.”
“Are you kidding? This is my favorite kind of restaurant.” Jacqueline practically bounced in her seat.
She wasn’t kidding. She was excited. In fact, this was the most animated he had seen her since she’d mimicked The Godfather in his office. He held the door open for her, and they walked to the back of the gas station, toward all sorts of exotic smells that tickled Mac’s nose.
JACQUELINE ORDERED CHICKEN tikka masala for both of them with extra naan bread. Mac thanked the server for the ice water. She smiled to herself as he squirmed in his seat, fiddling with the tray of sauces when it was brought. He was obviously out of his element.
“I kind of like this arrangement.” Jacqueline smiled slyly.
“Dinner at a gas station?”
“Well, yes. I love a good dive. But what I meant was being in charge—knowing about something you don’t.”
Mac peered at her over his glasses. “Oh. I see. That’s how it is.”
“It’s a nice change from the office.”
“I’m sure you know more about a lot of things than I do about the world outside my office.” He bit into the naan bread. “I tend to be a little bit of a hermit. At least, that’s what my brothers say.”
Jacqueline saw something in his eyes and heard it in his voice. But what was it, exactly? Regret? Resolve? Resignation?
She traced circles on the surface of her water with a straw. “I know a little bit about a lot of things, but I don’t know anything as deeply as you know your world.” She met his intense gaze. “And I’m afraid I’m the same way with people.”
“What do you mean?” Mac leaned forward.
“It’s the way I was raised. We were gypsies—nomads—never stayed in one place long. My parents both make friends easily, but I’m not like that. By the time I started to feel comfortable with my surroundings and got to know anyone, it was time to move.”
Mac’s startled expression showed his horror. “I cannot imagine that. Honestly, I never would have survived.”
Jacqueline shrugged. She felt a little defensive, though she couldn’t tell why. “Well, it has its perks. I’ve seen a lot of places, met a lot of different kinds of people. You’d survive if it was all you’d ever known.”
The server brought their food. Mac thanked him as he helped set the table. Jacqueline watched with amusement as Mac inhaled the steam rising from his plate and his eyes started watering.
“I don’t know how it tastes yet, but this is good for the sinuses!”
She laughed. Mac watched as she spooned rice from a bowl onto her chicken, mixing them together and coating the rice with the pumpkin-colored sauce. He did the same. Then he dipped the naan bread she offered him into the sauce, tasting it before forking a piece of chicken. His eyes opened wide.
“You like?” she asked.
“Spicy.” Mac took a sip of water. “I like.”
She winked at him. “You need a little spice in your life.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Who else has told you that?”
“Mostly my three brothers.” Mac stirred in a bit more rice with his chicken. “And Alma. And Ella.”
“Who is Alma?”
“She was our housekeeper growing up. After my parents died, she became more like a second mother to me.”
“I think I remember meeting her once.”
“Really?”
“Yes. There was a study group one time that met at Joiner’s. She made the most amazing snacks for us. Tamales, chicken taquitos, guacamole, sopaipillas...”
“That’s Alma for you.”
“I was hungry a lot. You don’t forget food like that.” Jacqueline felt a pang at the memory and was sure it showed.
Mac’s eyes softened. “You were hungry? I never knew.”
“Joiner didn’t, either—I don’t think anyone did. I mean, it’s not like I was starving or anything. But food was pretty scarce.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been difficult.”
“Yeah, it was. Those days are over now, though.” Jacqueline grinned as she patted her tummy and took another bite of her food.
“Can I ask you about your work with KARIS? Tell me more about it.”
“What do you want to know?”
“How did you develop a passion for it? You said your focus was education for girls—how did that develop?”
Tiny butterflies erupted in her stomach at Mac’s serious expression. He seemed genuinely interested.
“Well, first, education has been so empowering to me personally. It was one stabilizing force in my life growing up, and then college broadened my horizons and opened up so many opportunities for me.” Jacqueline swallowed a sip of water. “One of those was travel abroad, and when I saw how girls in many places in the Middle East were denied this basic right, it broke my heart. I came to believe that helping girls get access to education was a real thing I could do to help the world.”
“That sounds so noble.”
Jacqueline frowned. “Not really.”
“Yes, really.”
“Mac, you have to think outside of Kilgore. At some point, I realized I could be any of those girls. The only difference between us is the geography