Kismet

Chapter 18- Drop of Heaven

When I find my way back to JK, he’s still deep in discussion with the canning lady, but his eyes glimmer when I come back to stand next to them.

“Lila, Ms. Glenda said that next month she would make a super spicy batch of pepper jelly for me to buy. Isn’t that cool?” He looks like a puppy bouncing around. Seriously, how is this the same man who practically had me pinned against a car and stuttering earlier?

“I don’t know how he handles the heat, but thank you, Ms. Glenda,” I say to the kind old woman.

“You’re quite welcome. You two lovebirds get along now. Enjoy the rest of the booths. I’ll see you next month,” she shoos us off, JK with a beaming smile and me with a blush, but I don’t have time to correct her since JK is already dragging me towards a food truck for lunch.

It’s a little past the normal lunch hours, so the line isn’t too bad at the hot dog truck JK has been eyeing ever since it pulled up. He orders a Flying Pig Dog, which is a grilled hot dog topped with a mountain of pulled pork, barbeque sauce, and coleslaw. The thing is massive. I skip on ordering any food for now because I’m still not hungry after the big breakfast I made, but of course, JK is a bottomless pit. I, instead, opt for some fresh squeezed lemonade which JK and I share.

“Oh my god, Lila, you HAVE to try this,” he offers the hot dog for me to try, but I’m really not that hungry yet.

“No, thank you, I’m good with just the lemonade for now.”

“Come on, pleeeease? For me?” He pushes it closer to my mouth, so I have to lean back a little.

“No, I don’t want any. It’s too big and messy!”

He pulls his hot dog back, but of course, JK starts wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I can’t help but laugh at this one, “You know good and well what I mean, Jeon Jungkook!”

He smiles before he takes another colossal bite of his lunch, clearly happy with his pick.

After lunch, we make our way down to a different portion of Downtown Market where it’s more like a traditional farmers market. All the local farmers come out and sell their crop. There’s a beautiful selection of fruit; figs, pears, and berries all look and smell so tempting. There are plenty of vegetable stalls as well, which I always like to take advantage of. The tomatoes might not be particularly in season anymore, but the kind you’ll find at produce stands like this will always be better than at the supermarket.

We also come across a booth selling Cajun boiled peanuts, which JK orders while I go for the spiced nuts because they smell too good to pass up.

“Want some of my nuts?” I ask JK as we walk down the street toward the performers at the front. I should have known better, though, those darn eyebrows. I throw one at him, and, as graceful as he is, he manages to catch it with his mouth instead of it just hitting him like I intended.

I sulk a little while he nudges me with his shoulder, trying to cheer me up, and his hand brushes lightly across mine. It tingles, but I don’t take the bait.

I see a small stand near the front run by Mr. Cabrera. He used to be a regular customer of mine years ago, back when I was just a teller. He’s a sweet older man that used to be a pastor, but now he runs a produce stand. He used to come in and give the tellers fruit every once in a while, teaching us the Spanish word for each fruit and quizzing us on it the next time he came.

His stand caught my eye not for his tasty fruits, though, but for the dried chiles I see up front. It’s been a while since I made pozole, and the beautiful chiles are my reminder that it’s time I make some. I buy a bag each of dried guajillo, ancho, and arbol chiles and get excited knowing I have all the rest of the ingredients already at the apartment, so I should be able to make this tonight.