by Barbara Ebel
“Absolutely don’t think that way. There are a half-dozen reasons why I should be here as well as you.”
“Name them,” she said, her shoulders loosening up under his fingers.
“Besides you learning more about giving birth, the Lamaze techniques, and coping with pain, this is a bonding time between you and me. And it’s better if they explain to you the available medications and anesthesia if you decide later to use them.”
He moved his hands up to the nape of her neck and gently rubbed. “Plus,” he said, “I had something to do with this. I’m not going anywhere since these babies were conceived. I’ll be available to them from here on in until my last day on this earth. And to you, too.”
“But you have confidence in me that I’ll be able to do this in the most natural way possible, don’t you?”
“Mary, you’re a strong and a smart woman. Sure, you can do it. Just know that sometimes Mother Nature has other plans. Whatever is safe for you and the babies will be our plan of action and, in the meantime, these classes will prepare you for whatever might happen.”
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” the instructor said, “let’s get the ball rolling this evening. All the babies in here aren’t getting any smaller!”
-----
Rachel didn’t have a clue how to put together a dinner good enough for a special male guest so she went on the internet to figure out what to do. The most valuable resource available to her anymore was the worldwide web. What couldn’t she find out on there?
First, she knew she couldn’t tackle too big a menu or Kevin would spot her for the novice that she really was. And although she planned on having one or two things prepared ahead of time, cooking something in front of him would serve as a conversation piece.
Stumbling around with search engines, she finally hit pay dirt. Not only did she find an easy recipe, but she found out the best appliance to cook it on so she went to the nearest big box store and bought a small indoor electric grill. She also stopped at an eclectic food market where they sold premade items and selected a package of gourmet cheese-stuffed potato halves. Guys like something heavier than salad to accompany their meat, she thought, and she wasn’t capable of making something like that. She bought sirloin steaks and, before leaving, she glanced at the refrigerated dessert section. With many good choices, she decided on a cheesecake with a tempting raspberry swirl. Why do women bake stuff at home, she thought, when stores can fulfill their wildest food desires?
With Friday night approaching, she bought salad ingredients and asparagus. After cutting up lettuce, mushrooms, tomatoes and red onions, she put them in a plastic container and then sliced up the vegetable and stored it as well. Getting any food prep done ahead of time for when she got home from work was crucial because what she would wear and what she would look like would be the most important part of getting ready.
On Friday, Kevin had no genitourinary cases and she didn’t see him in the OR or in the hallways. But the date was on and she hurried home and set the table.
-----
When the doorbell rang, Rachel greeted Kevin with a wide smile despite the fact that her heart kept doing somersaults. How and why did people ever invite others to dinner anyway? Throwing food together for one’s self or their kids was a snap but why would someone deliberately want to feed others in a manner they didn’t use for themselves? She reminded herself of the bigger picture and tried to shrug off the fact that her dinner preparations weren’t exactly going along like Martha Stewart’s.
Kevin handed her a bottle of wine. He was casually dressed in a striped golf-type shirt and lighter trousers. She decided then and there that she liked his dark features.
“Nice place,” he said and walked across the room. “I’m only five minutes away. We have good locations so close to the hospital.”
“Smart minds think alike,” she said.
“I sleep to the last minute. Then I scramble to get in.” After watching her grab a bottle-opener from the drawer, he went over and opened the wine. “I really do appreciate the invite. Existing on hospital cafeteria meals dulls my senses. Once it even made me sick, so it’s refreshing to get away from it for a change.”
“That way they have more admissions. People visiting their sick relatives eat there and then end up in the ER. But we’re being harsh. It’s not that terrible.”
“You’re right. You’re kinder than I am. So, I learned the other night that you have a daughter.” After a silence, he poured wine into both their glasses.
“Julia’s her name. She’s a sweet little girl, my only child. She’s at her father’s place tonight, Danny Tilson’s. He and I never married which sure makes my life uncomplicated. Not that I don’t ever want to marry, it’s just that he’s not the right one for me.”
Kevin swirled the contents of his glass, deliberating what she’d said. “Sounds like you don’t make hasty decisions and you don’t want to mess up your life with a bad marriage. Smart … although Dr. Tilson would probably be better than most available men.”
“But there’s a thing called love. There better be some chemistry or marriage won’t work from the get-go.”
“But you both have a child together,” he said, looking at her suspiciously. “Are you saying there was no attraction?”
She lowered her head. “Now don’t make me blush. We got carried away after a long day in the OR and a difficult late-night case.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Her aqua eyes penetrated his. “That’s more information than I’ve ever told anyone. But you do know how to bare a woman’s thoughts.”
“So we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I’ll change the subject. Let’s toast to a nice dinner which you are so graciously hosting.”
Their glasses clinked in unison. “Nice choice,” she said after taking a sip. “I dislike dry wines and this is not one of them.”
After Rachel took off her shoes and padded over to the grill, she prewarmed it and grabbed two frying pans. Into one of them, she put a stick of butter and salt, pepper, garlic and parsley. The mixture was straight from the grill’s recipes in the purchase box and was to be poured over the finished steaks. She figured it would splatter all over as it melted, so she covered it with a lid. In the other pan, she set the cut asparagus to sauté as well.
“What can I do to help?” Kevin asked.
She put a finger up, opened the refrigerator, and took out the stuffed potatoes. “Here, I already made these and they just need to be heated in the microwave. Just put them on a plate and cover them. A minute should do.”
Kevin did as she suggested as she placed two steaks on the countertop grill, then set out the salad she’d assembled a few days ago.
“We’re almost ready,” she said.
“You make this look easy.”
“I hope so,” she said and quickly turned off the heat to the asparagus. She pointed to the table; since it was round and small, she’d set the stoneware dishes across from each other. Kevin took over the wine and waited.
“We can start with salad,” she said.
He pulled out a chair for her and then sat as well. Rachel slid the wooden bowl to him first, then served herself and drizzled dressing on top.
They both started together, chewing slowly; yet after two mouthfuls, she tasted something nasty and slimy. She wanted to take whatever it was out of her mouth but that wouldn’t look very mannerly. Using her fork, she poked through the salad on her plate. Kevin looked to be doing the same thing, his expression souring more than hers. Finally, she isolated the thing that must have tasted like snails. Mushrooms … mushrooms that were apparently not fresh and had turned brown and moist and were covered with a gelatinous guck.
“I’m more of a meat and potatoes kind of guy,” Kevin said, pushing the salad plate away.
Hoping to use humor to bail her out, Rachel cracked a smile. “The nerve of a farmer’s market to mix up their mushrooms with seafood algae,” she said.
Kevin laughed out loud. “Really. You should have bought your salad fixings at a big box store. That’ll teach you.”
Suddenly, Rachel got up.
“What’s that smell?” Kevin asked as he got up, too.
Rachel grabbed the lid off the glaze for the steaks and they both peered at the dry mixture adhering to the bottom of the pan.
“Now that’s what’s called burnt to a crisp,” she said.
“Was that to go over the steaks?” he asked.
“Was is correct. Past tense. It’s a good thing meat can taste good all by itself.”
“Who needs all that embellishment anyway?” Kevin responded.
She mustered up a smile. So far, she was doing a crappy job of cooking for him but at least he seemed to be a good sport.
“Let’s just get to the good stuff.” She slid the vegetable into a serving bowl but realized too much time had elapsed for the steaks. The cooking directions had said five minutes so she thought of a tactic to weasel out of overly well-done sirloins. “I forgot to ask you how you like your steaks. I like mine really overcooked so I hope you don’t mind.”
“That will be fine,” he said as she opened the grill. She put one on each of their plates and ignored their black, crispy outer texture. Both of them went back to the table and sat down.
Rachel cut an asparagus piece, or at least tried to. When she did manage to slice it, the pulpy vegetable ended up a wad of string in her mouth and she couldn’t swallow it.
With a steak knife, Kevin began cutting his meat. Taking a bite of the tough sirloin, he feigned a pleasant expression but finally just gulped it down. He couldn’t cut into the asparagus either.
“What’s wrong with it? Did the farmer not grow it enough?” she asked with a straight face.
“It’s barely cooked,” he said. “On the other hand, the steak is cooked too much.”
“Oh no. I’m sorry. Hey, we forgot about the stuffed potatoes, though.”
Kevin sprung up. “I’ll get them.” He opened the microwave, took off the lid, and pulled them out. Bringing them over to the table, he set them down in front of Rachel.
“I’m sorry, too. After all the work it must have taken you to prepare such gourmet potatoes, I think I hit ‘one’ for a minute but accidentally followed it by a ‘zero.’
“Ten minutes?” she asked, looking at the potatoes. Their cheesy stuffing spread out all over the plate like unbaked cake dough and icing all swirled together.
“Yes, ten minutes,” he responded.
She let out a big sigh, they both looked at each other, then burst into laughter.
-----
Rachel propped her feet on the coffee table while Kevin leaned deep into the couch with both legs also on the table, crossed at the ankles. Their mood had gotten lighter and lighter, and the two of them had just finished a sandwich and the last remnants of the wine bottle.
She laughed out loud and kneaded her fist into his arm. “That was the best ever. I have never had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with wine before!”
“See that. I already like your daughter. We wouldn’t have had this experience except for the fact that you keep peanut butter and jelly for her.”
“Ha! I can go get some animal crackers, too.” She got up from the couch but Kevin grabbed the end of her skirt.
“That’s okay,” he said.
“No, I have to. And I have to get another bottle of wine.”
She pulled her skirt from his hand, opened the only white wine she had, and rummaged through the pantry for the crackers; she held the bag under her arm and carried the bottle, squeezing between the table and couch. The crackers began to spill and she tried to hoist them back up but the wine slipped instead, pouring onto Kevin as it almost fell from Rachel’s hands.
Like a surgeon catching a bad mistake, he lurched up and righted the bottle. When he put it on the table, they both looked at his clothes and then at each other.
“I’m so sorry,” Rachel said.
Wine sank into an elongated path down his shirt and onto his trousers. He shuddered for a second as it hit his bear skin.
“Please, let me take your shirt or pants or both and I’ll wash them,” she said. “No kidding, that’s going to stain.”
He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off without a second thought. “Here,” he said, “it’s a favorite and it’s got life left in it.”
“Your pants?” she asked.
“That’s okay. They aren’t as bad.”
She hurried off to the washer and dryer tucked into a closet. Doing laundry was the second lousiest chore she disliked, she thought, after sewing and doing dishes. Well, the third least favorite thing to do, she corrected herself.
She grabbed a small bowl and went back over to the couch. “Here,” she said, sitting down. “The trick to eating animal crackers is to pick out only the ones you like.” She poured more than a handful into the bowl, selected a bear, and put it in her mouth.
Kevin took a lion, tiger, elephant and bear and placed them on the table. “But I hate to eat animals I like, don’t you?”
“Sometimes humans don’t have a choice. Here, taste this. I bet you’ve not had an animal cracker for twenty years.”
“I’m not even sure I’ve ever had one.”
She put one in his mouth and giggled.
“Mmm. Slightly sweet,” he said.
“I just realized the only decent thing that we had left from our spoiled meal is dessert. I have a cheesecake if you prefer that over animal crackers.”
“I don’t know. Sometimes it’s the ambience of eating something that’s more important than what you eat. Kind of like it’s the journey of going somewhere and not the final destination.”
“You don’t say.” She picked up a tiger and with two fingers brought it close to his lips. “Wrap your tongue and taste buds around this baby,” she said, the proximity of his bare arm and chest making it easier for her to ramp up her charm.
His lips encircled the cookie but he slid a little further and included her fingertip, then let go. After he swallowed the cracker, he sucked on her finger again.
“Now you give me one,” she whispered.
“Which species do you prefer?”
“I can be more specific than that.”
He held a cracker in front of her and started leaning back. She followed, their bodies closing the gap. “Tell me,” he said.
“An Irish American, American Indian man around six feet tall with skilled hands who works for a living on male body parts. However, what he needs right now is recreational time with only the finest female mind and body parts.”
“You don’t say.”
“I do say.”
“Lions, tigers and bears will never mean the same again,” Kevin said as he pulled Rachel onto his lap and she pressed her upper body against his naked chest.
Chapter 28
“Casey just got home,” Mary said. “Don’t any of you say a word to him if you go upstairs.”
She hesitated with one hand under her pendulous belly and pointed a finger at them. Nancy sat on the floor amused and Annabel stared from a stool with one ear bud dangling.
“Right now, he doesn’t have a clue,” Mary continued. “And if he thought I was planning something for his birthday, he’d never suspect a Thursday night.”
“What time is the reservation?” Danny asked.
“In two hours, so y’all better start getting ready.” She paced the length of the coffee table and stopped again.
“And you’re sure you want me to bring the painting?” Danny asked.
“Yes. There it is in the corner. Why don’t you head out before us and sneak it into Downtown Italy before we get there?”
“No problem. I can’t wait to see the finished product.”
Annabel sprung up. “I better get going if I want to make it on time with David. Sometimes his parents talk too much when I get there. And thanks for inviting him, Mary.”
“You’
re welcome. By the way, I asked Casey’s partner Toni if she’d like to come, too. She spends as much time with him as Mark did and his partners have a lot to do with how well he likes his job.”
“That was nice of you,” Sara said. “It’ll be fun to meet her.”
Mary gave her brother a kiss and, holding onto the banister, went up the stairs.
-----
“I’m glad you agreed to coming here tonight,” Mary said as Casey held the door open for her.
“It’s not like you wanting to eat fancy on a week night,” he said. “But then again, that landscape you’ve been working on after Julia and Dakota’s picture is moving along slowly. Is your pregnancy slowing you down?”
“With Sara around more since school’s out and Annabel home for the summer, I’m just more distracted.”
“Annabel will start getting busy again with a summer job,” he said. “But don’t push yourself with the painting and only do as much as you want. We’re financially fine with my salary and we don’t have a home mortgage thanks to your mom and dad.”
They stood inside the entryway at the reception desk. “Tilson,” Mary said. The white-haired woman looked down at her notebook and waved for them to follow. “Everyone we used to know here is gone,” she whispered. “It’s not the same.”
“I agree,” Casey said. They weaved through tables past a room divider and he blinked. “I didn’t know Danny and Sara were coming, or …”
A singing rendition broke out of ‘Happy Birthday,’ and Casey lightly slapped his forehead; Mary turned around and beamed at him. He put his arm around her waist and looked at each of them: Danny, Sara, Annabel, David, Nancy and Toni. Waiting until they were done to tell them they couldn’t carry a tune, they then launched into ‘for he’s a jolly good fellow.’
He waved his hands, “You all want me to die from hearing you sing before I make it to fifty this weekend.”
They finished as Danny patted Casey on the back and David shook his hand.
“This is the first adult surprise birthday party anyone has ever given me,” he said with emotion.
