by Nia Arthurs
“That’s fine.” Mali said, nodding her head.
They finagled the details of that service before Stephen added.
“Okay, you said here that you go to school. Will your schedule be able to handle the hours we agreed on?”
“Yes, sir.” Mali jerked her head up and down. “This will coincide perfectly with nursing school. Most of my classes are at night anyway.”
“Perfect.” Stephen offered his hands. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Mali tilted her head. “But, don’t you want to wait for my reference letters or taste my food first?”
Stephen stood, “I called the references you provided in your résumé. They all had excellent remarks about your character and skills.”
She narrowed her eyes dubiously. Mali was anxious to earn this job. Mr. McCord had agreed to her demands with no fuss at all! She felt a little guilty now for charging such a strict price and wanted to convince both him and herself that she was worth that investment.
“Please sir, let me cook something for you today before I leave.” She insisted.
That way, he could ensure her talent in the kitchen and Mali could redraft the contract tomorrow with a clean conscience.
Stephen shrugged. “If you feel so strongly about it then go ahead. I doubt you’ll find anything gourmet in the kitchen.”
“That’s no problem.” Mali excused herself and trekked back downstairs.
When she was younger, Mali and her mother would make a game of creating the best dishes out of the bare supplies in the cupboard. It was a game that Mali won more frequently as she got older. She knew what to do with a hodgepodge of ingredients. The task did not scare her at all.
Mr. McCord’s kitchen was top of the line though the stove looked like he hadn’t used it in forever. She padded to the cupboard and opened the doors wide.
Pssh. He had a completely different definition of the term ‘empty cupboards’, than she did. Mali began pulling out the ingredients she’d need and then set her phone on the counter top, running through her playlist of piano instrumentals.
Classical music was her favorite and though she enjoyed her rap music, reggae and souls (you can’t live in The Gungalungs and not enjoy soul music), she much preferred the rising climax of a cello solo or the haunting melody of a harp.
She sliced and diced, sautéed and dashed. She was a good cook and if her desire to help people hadn’t been so strong, she would have pursued cooking as a career. She loved it and most of that love came from the bare cupboards of a tiny house. She had a lot to be thankful for and her mother’s bravery in the face of her many health and emotional issues with raising a child alone was one of them.
In less than half-an-hour the food was ready to be served. The meal of gourmet macaroni and cheese with sliced Italian sausages and Caesar salad was an easy recipe that Mali could prepare in her sleep. When she had better staples like rice and beans, she could really show Mr. McCord how food was supposed to taste. For now this humble but hearty meal would just have to do. Nervously garnishing the salad on his plate with a slice of tomato, Mali climbed up the stairs to her boss.
***
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