Personal chef Beau St. Clair, recently divorced from his cheating husband, returns to the small Ohio River town where he grew up to lick his wounds. Jack Rogers lives with his mother, Maisie, in that same small town, angry at and frightened by the world. Jack has a gap in his memory that hides something he dares not face, and he’s probably suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Maisie, seeking relief from her housebound and often surly son, hires Beau to cook for Jack, hoping the change might help bring Jack, once a handsome and vibrant attorney, back to his former self. But can a new face and comfort food compensate for the terror lurking in Jack’s past? Slowly the two men begin a dance of revelation and healing. Food and compassion build a bridge between Beau and Jack, a bridge that might lead to love. But will Jack’s demons allow it? His history could just as easily tear them apart as bring them together.

Dinner at Jack's

No harm? I wonder if there is such a thing.


I mean, Dad is still here, still living in the green-shingled house on Etruria Street. He’s one reason I wonder about coming back. My mother and her memory offer succor, yes. But Dad? Well, let’s just say he hasn’t ever really come to grips with the whole gay thing. Like, for example, when I called him and told him I was moving home.


“Oh, you know, could be better. My bursitis is acting up again. Hurts like a son of a bitch. And that damn woman who moved in next door with her cats? They come in my yard and shit all over the place. Swear to God, I’m gonna get out my shotgun one of these days, and—”


I cut him off. I knew from past experience that if I let him, he’d ramble on for an hour or more, cataloging every ache and pain, every perceived slight from the last thirty years. That was Dad for you. Keeping score kept him alive.


“So, Dad? Dad? There’s something I need to tell you.”


Chapter 6