What's Cooking

by Gail Sattler

  By the end of the hour, Mitchell had learned more about how to cook things in the microwave with strange utensils than he wanted to know in a lifetime. Worst of all, he was still hungry even though he’d eaten so many samples he’d lost count.

  As he stood waiting while Carolyn inspected the latest and greatest version of some gadget he couldn’t identify, Mitchell glanced around him. There weren’t many men present, but those he had seen with their wives or girlfriends looked as bored as he felt.

  “It’s almost time for my first course. Shall we meet back here at ten forty-five?”

  Mitchell looked up as a man pushing a stroller with an infant in it walked in the direction of the guy area.

  He synchronized his watch with Carolyn’s. “Gotcha. Ten forty-five.”

  ❧

  Carolyn hurried off toward the meeting room area. She could tell Mitchell was as bored as she predicted he would be, but he was being a good sport about it. However, just because she had warned him in advance didn’t make her feel any better. Because of the guilt, she’d separated from him at the last possible second, which meant the only seats left were in the back.

  She pulled her notepad out of her purse and adjusted her glasses as the class began. The chef displayed culinary techniques she could only dream of, making her wish she had more flair in the kitchen or, failing that, a specialty she could be proud of. The demonstration ended before she realized the time had gone by, and she enthusiastically joined the rest of the audience in a healthy round of applause. On her way out, she picked up a bag containing the recipe the chef had prepared—as if she could ever prepare it with such skill—a small booklet promoting the chef’s newly released cookbook, and a small taste sample of today’s demonstration.

  Mitchell was already waiting for her by the time she reached the appointed meeting place. He held a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a large bag in the other.

  “Was there something interesting on television?”

  He grinned then shook his head. “I didn’t make it that far. Look what I bought.”

  Carolyn took one look at the bag and read the logo. “Oh, no,” she groaned under her breath. “You didn’t.”

  “It’s a Handy Dandy Veggie-O-Matic Chopper. You should see what it does.”

  Carolyn forced herself to smile. She should never have left him alone. She should have personally escorted him to the men’s area in the back and told him to stay put.

  “It slices and dices and chops and everything. It even makes French fries, and you should have tasted them. Were they ever good.”

  She highly doubted Mitchell would ever attempt to make French fries from scratch, and it would be a pretty good guess that he didn’t own a deep fryer. “Mitchell, when are you ever going to use such an item?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. But when I do, I’ll do the job in record time.”

  “I think that in a few years the Salvation Army will have a wonderful donation, still in the original packaging.”

  He ignored her as he dropped the chopper back into the bag and picked up a long, narrow box. “And look at this. I saw the guy cut a PVC pipe with this knife, and you should have seen how cleanly it cut through a big fat tomato after that. You said I needed a good knife.”

  Carolyn shook her head in disbelief. “Have you ever been to anything like this before?”

  He dug through the bag as he spoke. “I go to the auto show every year, if that’s what you mean.”

  “No, I mean something like this, where there are things to actively participate in, demos, door prizes, and booths with a million things for sale.”

  He stuck his head down closer to the bag opening, continuing to rifle through the contents until he found the specific item he was searching for. “No, never,” he mumbled.

  Carolyn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as she watched Mitchell pull out an assortment of gadgets, some of which might be handy to her but would be totally useless to Mitchell once he had finished the cooking class.

  When he finished, she sighed and shook her head. “Come on. We still have a lot to see.”

  She grabbed his hand and led him to a section where his wallet would be safe. Together they nibbled samples and wandered around until they ended up at the food court. Carolyn couldn’t stuff in another bite after everything she’d eaten, but Mitchell bought himself a corn dog on a stick, and they kept walking.

  A scratchy voice she could barely understand boomed over the loudspeaker announcing the other session she’d signed up for was starting in five minutes. She tried to calculate how long it would take to escort Mitchell safely to the men’s area and still be on time but knew she would never make it.

  Guiding him to the side so people could walk around them, she held tightly to both his hands, forcing him to make eye contact. “Please, Mitchell, promise me you won’t buy anything while I’m gone, okay?”

  He held up one hand. “Promise. Scout’s honor,” he said while making the appropriate hand signal.

  She didn’t know if he had ever been a Boy Scout but didn’t have the time to challenge him on it. “I’ll meet you back here when it’s over, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  She dropped his hands and dashed off. Again, she had to sit in the back, but it had been worth it to extract a promise out of Mitchell.

  The demonstration on Pâté Feuilletee was fascinating, but while she picked up some wonderful tips, Mitchell was always in the back of her mind. She left the room as soon as she could, missing the opportunity to ask the chef a few questions, and hurried to the appointed meeting place where, once again, Mitchell was waiting.

  “What did you do this time while I was gone?” She was almost afraid to ask, but she had to know.

  “Nothing bad. I didn’t buy anything. I just entered my name in a bunch of free draws.”

  “Oh, no. Mitchell, they’re going to phone and tell you that you won something, except you have to buy something or watch a demonstration for two hours to claim your prize, which is never worth the cost of getting there. And then they sell the names they’ve collected to mailing lists.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t care. I’d never buy anything I didn’t really need.”

  Carolyn almost choked but held back her comment. “Come on. Over there, they’re featuring a selection of new products for people with food allergies.”

  He checked his watch. “We’ve been here over seven hours. You mean there’s still something we haven’t seen?”

  “Just two sections. If you want to go sit down and watch television, I don’t mind.”

  “No. If I wanted to watch television, I would have stayed home. I came here to be with you.”

  Carolyn’s throat tightened. By now, most of the men who had accompanied their wives and girlfriends were in the men’s area, many of them having consumed far too much beer. Yet except for the time she’d spent in class, Mitchell hadn’t left her side. Many times, when he didn’t think she was looking, she’d glanced up to see him staring blankly at nothing, obviously bored to death, but he never complained.

  “Forget the other two sections. I think we’ve seen enough, and I’m tired anyway. Let’s go home.”

  His relief was almost tangible, and Carolyn knew she’d done the right thing.

  On the way out, they passed a booth selling the same vegetable chopper he had purchased earlier in the day. He grinned and pointed but didn’t slow down. “I got mine cheaper.”

  “It’s only a bargain if you actually use it.”

  He laughed and held the door open as they left the building and began the long walk back to the car.

  “I’m hungry. Can we go somewhere for supper?”

  Carolyn rested one hand on her stomach. She’d consumed so many samples, she didn’t think she’d be able to eat for a week. “I couldn’t eat another bite, but if you’re hungry, let’s go through the drive-through.”

  “The drive-through? But. . .” Mitchell’s hand drifted to the b
reast pocket of his leather jacket, he patted something tucked inside, then rammed his hands in his pockets as they walked. “I guess so,” he mumbled.

  They trudged in silence the rest of the way to the car, but once they were on the road going home, Carolyn could no longer contain herself. “Did you see that lady who was making the crepes? And how thin she could make them with that fancy pan?”

  Mitchell checked for traffic over his shoulder. “Uh, yeah.”

  “And those tiny sausage rolls made on that specialty rack that fit into a toaster oven? I couldn’t care less about the rack, but I wonder where those sausages came from. They were absolutely delicious and not dripping with fat.”

  “They were okay.”

  “And those brownies made in that special pan in the microwave. I’ve never been able to make cake with a decent texture in the microwave. But you know what was the most ridiculous thing I saw? That potato peeler tub thing, where you run water into it and between the water itself and the water pressure turning the grating unit inside, it peels the potatoes by itself. I timed it. Could you imagine taking fifteen minutes to peel potatoes?”

  “I guess not.”

  When Carolyn didn’t speak, silence hung in the air. Other than the soft music droning from the CD player and the hum of the traffic, the car was quiet.

  “Mitchell, are you okay?”

  “Huh? What? Oh, I’m fine. I’m just tremendously underwhelmed with the wonders of the modern kitchen. I didn’t know what I was missing.”

  Not sure if his sarcasm was meant as a joke or not, Carolyn said nothing. After a few minutes of silence, she made a few more comments about things she’d seen, but he continued to respond with few words. When silence hung in the air periodically, he kept reaching to his breast pocket, feeling something, and then dropping his hand back to the steering wheel, making Carolyn wonder if he’d recently quit smoking.

  Closer to home, he pulled into the drive-through of the local hamburger joint and ordered. Carolyn held the warm bag in her lap until they pulled into her driveway.

  Carolyn made a pot of herbal tea while Mitchell ate the burger and fries, and then they moved into the living room.

  Mitchell sat in the middle of the couch, which meant Carolyn had to sit beside him.

  Carolyn stretched and wiggled her toes before sagging fully into the soft cushions. “I didn’t realize my feet were so sore or that I was so tired until now.”

  Mitchell shifted his weight so she sank in his direction. “Same.”

  She flipped the television on for lack of something better to do. “I can’t believe the time. We spent the whole day there.”

  “I can believe it.”

  She turned toward him. “Thank you for taking me, especially on short notice. I really had a wonderful time.”

  He smiled and slipped his arm around her back, drawing her against him. “It’s also nice to be able to sit and relax with a good friend after it’s all over, too.”

  Carolyn smiled back. She didn’t think it appropriate for “a good friend” to have his arm around her, but she was so tired, she couldn’t help snuggling into his warmth.

  She thought of his words. If she had to put a label to what was happening between them, then calling Mitchell a friend was safe and probably quite accurate. She’d never before come to know someone so quickly or so easily. She already knew most of Mitchell’s likes and dislikes, the movies he liked to watch, and the books he liked to read. She’d learned a lot about his job and told him a lot about hers. She enjoyed his quirky sense of humor, and she’d even started to miss him when they weren’t together.

  “Yes, this is nice,” she muttered and sighed as she let herself continue to relax. “I’m so tired. I think it’s tripled in size since last year.”

  He mumbled a reply she couldn’t understand, and Carolyn didn’t ask him to repeat it. Instead, she let herself relax even more with the steady and soothing rhythm of his breathing. Her eyes drifted shut of their own accord. She would open them in a minute.

  She shifted with the movement as he reached up and patted his shirt pocket. Mitchell’s voice sounded deeper when she was pressed up against him. “I was wondering. I’ve really enjoyed going with you to your Bible studies and church on Sunday morning. I’d like it if we went together all the time. What do you think?”

  “Mmm.”

  “Was that a yes or a no? Carolyn?”

  She wanted to answer, but she couldn’t. All she felt was peace as everything faded into softness and warmth.

  Eleven

  Beeping sounded, jolting Carolyn from a sound sleep. She opened her eyes and started to roll over, squinting to focus on the time.

  The clock was missing. And she wasn’t in bed. She was on the living room couch.

  As soon as she gained her bearings, she located the source of the beeping, which was a man’s watch, lying on the coffee table. She picked up her glasses, which were beside the watch, and put them on.

  Eight thirty.

  Carolyn blinked, trying to figure everything out, starting with what day it was. The last thing she remembered was watching television with Mitchell after attending the Kitchen Showcase.

  Her stomach churned. She’d fallen asleep on the couch. She clutched her blanket, which was the one from her bed, and glanced to her side. He’d also brought her pillow.

  The warmth in her cheeks escalated to a burn when she found a note, next to where the watch had been.

  Good morning, Sleepyhead!

  I hope you had a good night’s sleep. I had to use your keys to lock up when I left, so I’ll be back for church in the morning. Expect me at 9:15. I’ll bring breakfast.

  Love, Mitchell

  Carolyn buried her face in her hands. The thought of Mitchell tucking her in at night, even if it was just on the couch, made her cringe with embarrassment.

  Without wasting any more time, Carolyn bolted off the couch, heading straight for the bathroom. She didn’t know how she was going to get ready before Mitchell arrived.

  She’d barely finished applying her mascara when the doorbell rang.

  Mitchell stood in the doorway holding a brown paper bag in one hand and a cardboard holder containing two steaming cups in the other. He smiled brightly. “Good morning. Sleep well? You look nice. That color really suits you.”

  Carolyn opened her mouth, but no words came out.

  “Aren’t you going to let me in? I have food. And coffee.”

  She shuffled to the side to give him room to pass. “Of course.”

  Mitchell walked straight past her into the kitchen, but her feet remained glued to the floor. She didn’t want to share breakfast in the kitchen with Mitchell. She didn’t know how she was going to sit across the table from him and carry on an intelligent conversation.

  When he was halfway through the living room, he stopped and turned around to smile so sweetly that she nearly cried. “Don’t worry, you didn’t snore or do anything embarrassing. Come on, before everything gets cold. These fast-food hotcakes are bad enough when they’re warm.”

  Cold food was the least of her worries. Somehow she managed to talk to him while they ate their breakfast, although by the time she got to the last mouthful, it tasted like cardboard.

  Sharing breakfast with him was one more reminder of how much Mitchell had become ingrained in her life.

  Her friends now expected him regularly at the Wednesday night Bible study, and they asked about him when he wasn’t with her on Sunday, whether Hank was there or not—which was rare. Her night school class definitely thought of them as a couple. Even his dog liked her.

  Now they would be attending Sunday service together, again.

  Mitchell rose and went into the living room to pick up his watch. “I guess it’s time to go,” he said as he walked back into the kitchen. “Are we going to your church or mine? I don’t think I’ve been to my own church for over a month.”

  Carolyn sighed. She was too tired to meet new people, even though it meant that
the entire congregation would be seeing her with Mitchell on yet another Sunday. “It’s getting late. We can go to your church next weekend.”

  Carolyn bit her lip, but it was too late. The words had already been said.

  “That’s a good idea. You can also see it before the wedding. You are coming with me to Jake and Ellen’s wedding, aren’t you?”

  “Uh. . .”

  She opened her mouth to decline, but his eyes stopped her. She’d seen that look before, the day he begged her to give him remedial help with his cooking skills. She didn’t want to go through that again.

  Carolyn sighed again. “Sure.”

  “Before I forget, I can’t see you for dinner tonight. I’ve got a family thing I have to do. Can we do dinner tomorrow night after work?”

  Carolyn stood. There was no point in trying to decline. He would only bamboozle her into going out with him another time and another time after that.

  When she sighed again, the corners of his mouth quivered.

  “Yes, I’d like that.”

  Strangely, she meant it.

  ❧

  Mitchell drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for the red light. If all the lights from here on out were green, then he had a chance of running into the cooking class on time—barely.

  In the past, he had never minded the overtime. It wasn’t like he ever had anything better to do, and the extra money on payday was always a treat. Now, he had changed his mind.

  His supposed date last night with Carolyn hadn’t happened. Just as he was about to leave, the dock foreman had come running in to say that someone had driven through the fence between their compound and the adjoining business. Not only did he have to call the police, but he also had to arrange to have someone come in at an unbelievable fee to fix the security fence at night. Then he had to deal with the police report and file charges, since there would be an insurance claim and criminal charges against the man who did the damages. Worst of all, he had to stay until the repair crew actually arrived and started working.