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What's Cooking

Page 7

by Gail Sattler


  Carolyn didn’t know how Mitchell had hidden most of the blue and orange, but it made her wonder if he would bother trying to hide any gray hairs when the time came. Instead, she suspected Mitchell would flaunt them as a sign of alleged maturity.

  When Mitchell started to pray softly, Carolyn closed off her thoughts of Hank, prayed with Mitchell, and concentrated on having a lovely meal with him.

  After the plates were cleared, the waiter returned to ask if they wanted dessert.

  Mitchell shook his head. “No, thank you. We’ll have the bill, please.”

  When the waiter left, Carolyn turned to Mitchell. “You could have ordered something if you wanted.”

  “We have to get back. You still have to show me enough so I don’t make a fool of myself on Tuesday.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “The cooking lesson? Isn’t that why you came over in the first place?”

  “You mean you really want to cook tonight?”

  “Didn’t I say that earlier?”

  Carolyn struggled not to raise her hands to cover the heat in her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Mitchell. I didn’t believe you. I don’t know what to say.”

  “This has been a real treat, not to have to grab something at a fast-food place. This isn’t the kind of place a guy can go to eat alone. I got to eat a real supper today, and I enjoyed it.”

  She hadn’t thought about what a single man usually ate. “You must eat fast food a lot, don’t you?”

  His cheeks turned red. Carolyn thought it quite endearing to see a man blush. “Most single guys do, you know.”

  As soon as they got back to Mitchell’s house, he excused himself to change. Within minutes, except for the perfect hair and clean-shaven chin, he was back to the Mitchell she was used to.

  Carolyn rolled up her sleeves and showed him how to properly separate eggs and beat the whites until they were just the right consistency. She then made him fold them into the mixture properly, being careful not to stir, resulting in the perfect texture.

  “Is all this really necessary?” he grumbled as he spooned the filling into the pastry shells she had shown him how to make because he didn’t know how to use a pastry cutter.

  “As I recall, you’re the one who said he would prepare all the food for the party rather than getting a caterer.”

  He mumbled something she couldn’t make out, and she chose not to ask him to repeat himself.

  The baked cuplets were as good as any she could have done herself, and she told him so. She struggled not to laugh as he tried to downplay the pride in his accomplishment.

  “And on that note, it’s time for me to go home.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  He followed her outside to the driveway.

  “It’s a gentleman’s duty to escort a lady to safety. If I can’t escort you home, the best I can do is see you safely to your car.”

  Carolyn unlocked the car door and stood back before opening it. “This really isn’t necessary.”

  “But it is. I won’t be able to see you tomorrow because we have the fittings for the tuxes.”

  She hadn’t intended on seeing him tomorrow, regardless. “But—”

  Before she had the chance to move, Mitchell stepped closer and cupped her face in his hands. He leaned down until their noses were almost touching, and his voice dropped to a low whisper. “I’ll miss you, Carolyn.”

  And then he kissed her, softly and gently and so fast that she didn’t have a chance to respond. When he backed up, he let his hands drop and opened the car door for her.

  His eyes shone in the light of the streetlamp at the end of the driveway as he smiled down at her. In a flash, she slid into the driver’s seat and pulled the door shut.

  He rested his hands on top of the car and bent over until his face was level with hers. “Good night, Carolyn. Sleep well.” Then he stood and walked into the house.

  Seven

  Mitchell wiped his palms on his pants and knocked on Carolyn’s door. Her car was in her driveway, but there was a car behind it he didn’t recognize. Part of him hoped this was his chance to meet the elusive Hank, and part of him dreaded it.

  When Carolyn opened the door to see him, her face turned a ghastly shade of gray. Mitchell looked past her into the living room.

  A man wearing an expensive three-piece suit and matching silk tie sat on Carolyn’s couch, making Mitchell glad that in his mad rush to get out the door this morning, he had at least grabbed his good pants instead of the usual jeans.

  “Mitchell,” Carolyn stammered. “What a surprise to see you here. Please come in.”

  The other man stood.

  “Hank, this is Mitchell.”

  Mitchell noticed the lines around Hank’s eyes and the receding hairline.

  Warning bells went off in Mitchell’s head. Not only was Hank much older than he was, Hank appeared much older than Carolyn. Mitchell’s stomach knotted, and he wondered if he might be sick.

  Mitchell ran his fingers through his hair, giving the top a slight fluff to emphasize that it was still all his own and it was still all there, then forced himself to smile as he extended one hand. “Very pleased to meet you, Hank,” he said, praying for God’s forgiveness for the lie.

  Hank offered his hand as if he hadn’t a care in the world, while Mitchell was ready to break out into a cold sweat.

  “Pleased to meet you, too, Mitchell. I hear Carolyn has been helping with your culinary skills.”

  He wasn’t sure how he felt knowing Carolyn had mentioned him to Hank, but he had a bad feeling that because she had, she didn’t see him as Hank’s competition.

  “That’s right.” Mitchell gave Hank’s hand a little squeeze, then released it, not breaking eye contact.

  Carolyn rested her tiny hand on his arm, distracting him from sizing up Hank. Taking advantage of her attentions, Mitchell covered her hand with his and patted it as she spoke. “Not that it isn’t nice to see you, Mitchell, but what are you doing here?”

  “I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop in to see if you were busy this afternoon.”

  “Actually, we’re not—”

  Hank stepped forward, close enough to Carolyn that she pulled her hand out and stepped back, and when she did, Hank reached behind her and rested his fingertips on the small of her back. “Actually, we were just on our way out. We’re going to my nephew’s junior golf tournament and then out for dinner afterward.”

  Carolyn stepped away from Hank’s touch. “A golf tournament?” Carolyn turned to Mitchell. “Perhaps you would like to join us?”

  Mitchell couldn’t think of anything less fun to do. He’d only tried golf once in his life, and he didn’t like it, even if he could afford the greens fees.

  Hank’s voice dropped in pitch and came out rather tight. “I’m sure your student has other things to do, Carolyn. With his friends.”

  Mitchell glanced quickly at Hank. He was able to ignore Hank’s little dig, but he wasn’t able to tamp down his triumphant smirk at Hank’s indignation to Carolyn’s invitation. However, after taking one look at Carolyn, he snapped his mouth shut and held back from commenting. Carolyn was holding her breath, her lips were clamped tight, and she stood as stiff as a board. She hadn’t been this tense when she’d caught him using the largest meat cleaver to chop the lettuce in cooking class.

  He could only imagine what it would be like for her with the three of them together for the afternoon. From Hank’s demeanor, Mitchell anticipated more snide comments, which would make Hank look less than gracious but would put Carolyn in an uncomfortable position.

  Mitchell pasted on a phony smile. “I think I’ll pass. Have a nice time. If you’ll excuse me, I think I should be going.”

  It was the hardest thing he ever did, but Mitchell said a polite good-bye and went home.

  ❧

  Carolyn adjusted the display mirror above her head. “Can everyone see now?”

  When the class members nodded, she continued wi
th her demonstration. Carefully, she pinched the edges of the bite-sized pastry and twirled it to seal it and make the correct shape. She raised her head and smiled at everyone. “There. Now it’s your turn. Does anyone have any questions before we break into groups?” She surveyed the room, then pointed to one of the ladies near the front whose arm was raised. “Evelyn?”

  The young woman stood to be heard. “Yes, I was wondering if I could do the seal with a fork because I. . .” Evelyn’s face paled, her eyes widened, and her gaze lowered, staring at Carolyn’s feet. Her hands clenched into fists, and she pressed them to her mouth.

  Carolyn lowered her head to see what Evelyn was looking at.

  A blur of white streaked across her feet, and Evelyn screeched.

  “A raaaaaaaat!”

  The entire class erupted into a state of panic. Women screamed. Two ladies ran out the door. Most jumped onto chairs. Those that remained sitting lifted their feet up and scanned the area nervously, clutching their knees with their arms. Mitchell stiffly sat in his chair, his feet on the floor, his arms crossed tightly on his chest. She wondered what was going through his mind but didn’t have time to think about it.

  “Class! Wait!” Carolyn waved her hands in the air. “Please! Everyone, calm down! They’re not rats! They’re white mice! They escaped from the biology lab this afternoon. They’re quite harmless. Most of them have been captured, but a few are still unaccounted for. Please, everyone sit down!”

  Evelyn hunkered down on her chair, keeping her feet above the floor. “It was a rat,” she whimpered. “I saw it.”

  Carolyn feared the poor woman was going to break into tears, but she had to think of the welfare of the class as a whole, not one single member. After a few minutes, order was restored, although no one had their feet on the floor except Mitchell, who was wearing cowboy boots that safely covered his feet and ankles.

  Very slowly, he stood. “Is there something I can do?”

  Carolyn nodded. “Yes. Would you please go find the custodian? And also we’ll need a cage from the biology lab.”

  He glanced quickly at unit four, where the mouse had gone. “Sure.”

  “Thank you, Mitchell.”

  Everyone remained frozen to their seats while Mitchell walked out the door. All was quiet in the room, the only sound being the tap of Mitchell’s cowboy boots echoing in the empty hallway and fading in the distance. Knowing that Mitchell had attended high school at Central, she wondered if he felt strange walking down the halls now, years later, at night when the school was relatively empty; but she had never been so glad he was there. He was possibly the only class member who knew where to find both the custodian and the biology lab.

  The thought nearly caused her to drop the pastry roller in her hand. Even though she hadn’t known him then, he’d been a high school student when she’d become a teacher.

  Time stretched as no one moved or spoke. When Carolyn couldn’t stand it anymore, she tried to distract the class with a few suggestions on menu planning.

  Finally, Mitchell returned, cage in hand. “I couldn’t find the custodian anywhere so I left him a note, but I thought I shouldn’t wait to bring the cage.”

  Everyone in the class remained cowering in their chairs; although a few brave souls lowered their feet, they were still jumpy and kept anxiously searching the floor. Carolyn guessed that until the mouse was caught, no one would pay attention to anything else she had to say, much less actually walk across the room to the kitchen units.

  She could no longer wait for the custodian to appear.

  “Well, Mitchell, it looks like it’s up to us to catch the errant rodent.”

  His face paled. “Us? Like, you and me?”

  “We can’t let it escape, and I can’t continue class until it’s caught. I saw it go under the sink in Unit Four.”

  His voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you sure it’s just a mouse? Evelyn said it was a rat.”

  She walked toward the last known location of the missing mouse with Mitchell following close behind with the cage. “It’s a mouse.”

  “Did you see it? Or are you just assuming it’s one of the missing mice.”

  Both of them dropped to their hands and knees. She heard scurrying inside the closed cupboard under the sink. Mitchell laid the cage on the floor and jerked his hands away.

  Carolyn narrowed her eyes. As much as he was trying to hide it, Mitchell’s hands were trembling, and he wouldn’t go close to the small hole through which the mouse had passed.

  She couldn’t understand why everyone was afraid of a little mouse. She’d often been in the biology lab to feed them kitchen scraps.

  Being careful to be quiet since they were the center of attention, Carolyn lowered her voice to the faintest of whispers so Mitchell would be the only one to hear her. “It really is a mouse. I saw it. What’s wrong?”

  He spoke so softly she could barely hear. “I was bitten by a rat when I was a kid and had to undergo a series of very painful rabies shots. On top of that, my class had just studied the Black Plague. Even though the doctors insisted I wouldn’t, I really thought I was going to die. I’m still skittish about rats—and mice, apparently. I feel like an idiot.”

  Her heart went out to him for admitting such a thing while they were in the middle of trying to deal with the fugitive mouse. “I don’t know what to say. If you’d like to sit down. . .”

  “No, if you say it’s a mouse, I believe you. Besides, God has not given us a spirit of fear. Let’s just catch the little escapist and get on with the class.”

  Slowly, they opened the cupboard door just wide enough to fit the opening to the cage, using the dustpan underneath to make sure it didn’t squeeze through the space. Mitchell held the cage and dustpan in place while Carolyn shooed the little mouse into the cage with the broom. She worried Mitchell was going to faint, but he gritted his teeth and held himself together.

  She heard him click the cage door shut, confining their prey. “Got him!” he called out in triumph. “I’ll go take him back to the biology lab.”

  He held the handle of the cage containing the star attraction very carefully, cautious not to let his fingers get too close to the bars. As he stood, the class broke out into boisterous cheers and applause. At the clamor, Mitchell stood still, his eyes wide, and smiled so hesitantly his dimple didn’t appear.

  Since he wasn’t moving, Carolyn sidestepped him and blocked his path. She clasped her hands together and tucked them beside her chin. “Our hero!” she singsonged.

  She didn’t know what made her do it. Maybe it was because she was so impressed at how he’d handled his obvious fear or maybe it was because Mitchell was already so flustered, but she couldn’t help herself. She stood on her tiptoes, gently rested her hands on his shoulders, and gave him a quick and gentle peck on the cheek in front of everyone.

  The applause and cheers increased in tempo and volume. Mitchell’s face turned beet red, and he left without a word.

  Carolyn adjusted her glasses, then turned back to the class, which had finally quieted. “Okay, class, if we hurry, we can still make both projects. Divide into your groups while Mitchell goes to the biology lab, and let’s get started.”

  The whole time Mitchell was gone, she couldn’t help thinking of what she’d done. Judging from Mitchell’s red face and the speed at which he left the room, she’d embarrassed him more than she had embarrassed herself.

  Above all, she couldn’t figure out why she’d done such a thing, as impulsiveness was not in her nature. It had only been meant as a joke, but Mitchell might have taken it the wrong way.

  ❧

  No matter how hard he tried, Mitchell couldn’t concentrate on the lesson. He finally managed to push the memory of the rodent’s beady little eyes out of his mind; but as if his humiliating admission about his childhood trauma hadn’t been bad enough, every time he looked at Carolyn, he remembered her kiss.

  Though it was only a quick peck on the cheek, Carolyn had kissed him in fro
nt of the class.

  For the first time, he allowed himself to be encouraged that she might overcome her anxieties about their developing relationship. She’d responded the one time he’d kissed her properly; but this time she’d initiated it, and most important, she’d done it in front of the entire cooking class.

  Unfortunately, the novelty of a man in a cooking class had lost its charm, so the ladies actually expected him to do his share of the work. He did his best to do what was required, but Sarah kept poking him every time Carolyn came near them. He would have done better if he hadn’t known Carolyn was watching.

  By the time the class was over, it had been the longest night of his life. He deliberately took longer than necessary to clean up so he would be the last person remaining except for Carolyn. He watched as she began to scoop up her bag of supplies, a huge cookbook, and her purse.

  He joined her at the demonstration table. “I can carry some of that for you.”

  “Thanks, but we’re going in opposite directions. I’m parked in the staff lot in back.”

  “I know that. I want to escort you safely to your car. It’s dark out there.”

  She hesitated for a second and then sighed. Otherwise, she didn’t protest, so Mitchell picked up the heavier items and walked with her toward the staff exit.

  Unfortunately, the missing custodian was now standing in the doorway, awaiting their approach.

  “Now he shows up,” Mitchell grumbled.

  “It’s his job to make sure we get to our cars safely and wait until we exit the parking lot.”

  “Tell him his services are no longer required. It’s now my job to be the hero.”

  She sighed again. Mitchell bit his lower lip to keep from smiling.

  “District regulations, Mitchell.”

  The custodian didn’t say anything, but Mitchell thought Mr. O’Sullivan looked at him strangely as he walked past carrying Carolyn’s bags.

  When they arrived at her car, Carolyn piled everything into his arms while she dug into her purse for her keys.

 

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