by Kris Bryant
I need to get back to my mole and get my soufflés into the oven. Mary rubs circles on her stomach when I return to my station. She likes the salad. I give her a wink. I’m trying to gauge Taryn’s reaction, but she is stoic like the rest of the judges.
I move on, getting back into my zone. The sticky rice is almost done. I mix my medley, waiting for a bit so that the marinade doesn’t weigh down the vegetables. I want them to be crisp and clean. This entire dish won’t look like I’ve spent hours on it, but if I nail the sauce, the judges will know and hopefully appreciate my efforts in creating such a complex taste.
Scott is presenting his dessert of plum pudding. It looks good, but his entire meal seemed heavy. Lots of creams and thick breads. He should have gone with the Irish theme since he didn’t make his brisket.
I quickly taste the mole and decide the flavor is there. I’m ready for the final step. I add the mole to the roasted chicken and place it into the oven for an additional ten minutes to marry the flavors.
Mary delivers her strawberry shortcake to the judges. They’re all smiling. I can’t help but smile, too, because I know it tastes better than it looks, and it looks fantastic. She returns to her station and slides me over a plate. I want to taste it, but I need to plate my entrée.
I pull the pan from the oven and let it rest before I start preparing the plates. I taste it and almost weep with delight and relief. It’s even better than a few days ago. I fix six plates, clean all marks off of the plates and deliver five of them to the judges. I explain my meal, why I chose chicken mole, and tell them to enjoy. I need to finish my soufflés and get them on the table in thirty minutes. Scott is still in the room and he snorts when he sees my entrée. Taryn points to the door. He grabs his bag and leaves, shaking his head. I can hear him laugh outside of the classroom, but I don’t allow him to derail me. I know it’s good. I know they will like it, too.
I say a little prayer when I fill the soufflé dishes, adding collars so that when they cook, they will be approximately two inches higher than the rim of the dish. I actually haven’t tried this before so I’m glad I decided to make eight desserts altogether in case something goes wrong. I quietly add them to the heated oven and set the timer. Now, I just have to wait.
I spend my time cleaning up my station, stealing glances at the judges. They’re taking bites and writing in their notebooks. I catch Taryn’s eye, but she doesn’t give me any hint on the entrée either. I keep the light on in the oven and check the soufflés every three minutes. I’m getting nervous because they are getting tall and I hope the collars stay in place. When the timer dings, everybody is watching me. They’re either really nervous for me, or really excited for soufflés. I carefully take out the soufflés and place them on the station. I have six really pretty ones and two that self-destructed. I quickly dust the whole ones with powdered sugar and cautiously remove their collars. They’re beautiful. I’m shaking and I have to take a moment to settle down. Mary comes over to help deliver them to the judges.
“These look gorgeous. Take a deep breath and let’s go get your scholarship,” she says. I release a pent up nervous laugh and carefully place the desserts on trays. We take baby steps to get them across the room. The judges are all smiling.
“Vanilla bean soufflé. I chose Mexican vanilla to stay true to the theme. The soufflés are light and should complete the meal nicely. Enjoy.” I head back to my station to finish cleaning up. Mary follows me and I give her the sixth soufflé to try. She moans after the first bite. I almost cry with relief.
“This is better than my strawberry shortcake,” she says.
“Nothing is better than your strawberry shortcake.”
“You need to taste this.” She hands me a spoon. I’m almost too nervous, but I dig in. My spoon bounces in the fluffy dessert. Perfect texture. I take a bite and smile. I nailed this. I nailed the entire meal. I finish cleaning up my station. Mary and I head over to retrieve our bags. Taryn finally looks at me and I nod at her. I want her to give me a sign or something to let me know how I did. I know she was nervous because I didn’t serve until the others were already serving their desserts. I’m going to be right by my phone all night, waiting for her call. I take a deep breath and try to right myself. As I’m about to walk out of the class, the last class I will ever take at Kirkwood Academy, she winks at me.
Chapter Twenty-five
I skip to answer my door because I have so much energy from the final and am on such a high. Taryn’s standing in my doorway with a bottle of champagne and a huge smile on her face.
“I can’t even tell you how happy and proud I am.” She kisses me fiercely.
“So you liked it, huh?”
She gives me the biggest, longest hug. “Fantastic. Absolutely delicious. The judges were blown away. Not too many students have tried chicken mole, let alone perfected it.”
“Any issues with anything I cooked?”
“Nothing. Spot on tonight, spot on. Here, I bought this to celebrate. Oh wait, do you have other plans tonight?” She hands me the bottle. I’m not going to tell her that I shooed Jessie away claiming a really bad headache knowing full well Taryn was going to either come by or call me.
“No, no. Let’s open it and you can tell me all about it. It’s still very fuzzy to me.” I don’t remember a lot of the competition.
“Well, everybody was nervous because you weren’t serving anything for hours. I had to tell them what you were making because they were a bit antsy. Once the food came out, they understood the delay. The salad was light and full of flavor. The dressing was a complete hit. I was afraid J.D. was going to lick his plate. When the chicken mole was served, we couldn’t wait to dig in. It was perfectly balanced. The bittersweet chocolate subtly counteracted the spicy peppers and the rice helped lower the heat. The vegetables were light, crispy, and had an excellent marinade. You did great. Really a perfect meal.”
I can’t stop smiling. “How did everybody else do?” I hope she can share some information with me.
“Everybody else did a good job, too. Delicious flavors, but there were some errors that I can’t discuss. I have to say, your soufflé was amazing. Most of the time, added flavors really weigh the soufflé down, but not yours.”
I’m pretty sure I can sit here and listen to Taryn praise me all night. “I cooked eight soufflés and two committed suicide halfway through cooking them. I’m glad I thought ahead to double the ingredients and make as many as I could.”
“I thought it was sweet that you and Mary shared your meals. Very thoughtful.” She reaches out for my hand, anxious to touch me. She might actually be more excited than I am about the final.
“I’m actually ready for a cheeseburger and fries. I want something simple and easy and greasy that I don’t have to make.”
“Would you like to go to Bud’s? I’m sure they are anxious to know how you did,” she says.
“How late can you be out? What are your plans?”
“Olivia and my mum are at a movie right now. They won’t be home until about eight. I’m sure after that there will be ice cream and games at home. I won’t be missed for a while.”
I scoot closer to her and kiss her softly. “I don’t want to waste any time with you.”
She looks at me for a moment, her eyes serious and her emotions guarded. “Tomorrow we can hang out for as long as you like. They’re going to the zoo in the morning and I’ve told them that we are fixing them dinner so we will have most of the day and the night together if you would like that.”
“Of course I would. Okay, then let’s share a toast and grab some greasy food.”
“I will probably only have a soda, or an iced tea, because I ate three dinners only an hour ago,” she says.
“We can stay here and I can just make something real quick.”
She looks at me. “You’ve been cooking all day. If you want a greasy cheeseburger, you will get a greasy cheeseburger.”
I retrieve two champagne glasses from the kitchen whi
le Taryn opens up the bottle. The cork pops off, scaring us. Sophia jumps about five feet and runs down the hallway, presumably to hide under the bed.
“Here’s to my favorite student and her kick ass final,” Taryn says. We clink glasses and she gives me a quick kiss. “Let’s go satisfy your hunger.”
*
Bud’s not working tonight, but the night crew is anxious to hear how the final went.
“Well, I won’t find out about the scholarship until tomorrow, but I cooked my heart out.” Val, Jennifer, and Peter, the night cook, are at the counter listening to my story. We share a round of high fives and I dig into my double cheeseburger and fries. Taryn looks at me and shakes her head.
“One day you won’t be able to eat like this and keep your girlish figure,” she says.
“So you’ll only love me if I’m thin?” I ask. I stop mid bite as the words I just said sink in. Fuck. How am I going to get out of this one? She’s as still as I am. “I mean, I have to be thin forever?” Fuck. This can’t get any worse. “You know what I mean.” I eat a couple of fries and refuse to make eye contact. We are thankfully saved by Val who swoops in to check on us. Thank you, Val.
“So what happens now? Are you going to stay here at the diner if you don’t get the scholarship?” Not that her question helps me, but it at least gets us out of that very awkward moment.
“I will probably send my résumé out to some of the restaurants down in The District. I might even send it to Murphy’s, the steakhouse we cooked in the other week.” The District is the popular hot spot for dining, dancing, and drinking. There are about half a dozen five star restaurants and I’d be lucky to work in any of them.
“But if you get the scholarship, when do you leave?” she asks. I give her a look until it finally sinks in that she is having this conversation in front of the quasi-girlfriend I might be leaving for ten months. She blushes and stands back from the counter. “Oh, I’m being flagged down by a customer.” She’s gone in two seconds flat. All I wanted tonight was to eat a greasy cheeseburger and spend time with Taryn. Now we’ve got this heaviness between us that is squeezing my heart. I don’t know what to do or say. I can only sit here and eat this food that is settling into my stomach like a stick of dynamite. Thankfully, she slips into teacher mode and starts talking again.
“I have a conference call in the morning with the judges and we’re going to finalize the pick. Dr. Wright is going to either call or send an email to the scholarship recipient. He will ensure that all the proper paperwork is filled out and the forms will be sent to San Rocco School in Venice. You do have a very good shot.” At least she glazed over the ‘L’ word and is pretending it didn’t happen. It sounds too real with her telling me all of this. Food is no longer appealing and I put down my cheeseburger. “Are you done?” she asks.
“I guess I tasted too much food during the final. Can we get out of here?” I throw some money on the counter and we head out. We’re fairly quiet on the ride back to my apartment. At least she gets out of the car and follows me inside instead of throwing the car into gear and screeching the tires to make a quick getaway.
“Want another glass of champagne or something else?”
“Sure. Let’s continue the celebration,” she says.
Pouring new glasses keeps me busy until I can settle down from the events of the last hour. We clink glasses again and I’m finally able to look at her for more than five seconds.
“So what happens for you this summer? How many classes do you have?” The academy is year round, so Taryn won’t get as much of a summer break as she originally thought.
“I have two classes again. Dietary Management in the morning, and Pastries in the afternoon. Pastries doesn’t run late so I will be done by three every day. Olivia will be happy because then we can go to the pool since I will get home early enough.”
“Where will she be when school is out?” I ask.
“She’ll be at Adventure Club at her school until I can pick her up. She’s scheduled until six, but I will get her early most days.”
“I want to go swimming with you. It would be nice to see you in a bikini.” I scoot closer to her and give her a soft kiss. She laughs.
“I haven’t worn a bikini since Olivia was born,” she says.
“Are you kidding me? Why not? Look at you. You are gorgeous.” She blushes. She really isn’t good at receiving compliments. I take her glass and put it on the coffee table in front of the couch and straddle her lap. “Guess what?”
“What?” She is staring at my mouth and licks her lips in anticipation of our inevitable kiss.
“You’re no longer my teacher,” I say. She smiles at me.
“You’re right.” I stroke her cheek and run my fingers across her plump bottom lip.
“I love how full your lips are. Do you know that I probably spent more time in class focusing on your mouth than any other part of your body?” I exhale sharply as she captures my hand and presses a kiss to my fingertips.
“You were my biggest distraction and yes, I knew you were watching me.”
“Everything about your mouth is incredible. Your lips are so red, so sensitive, and your palate is remarkable.”
“Says the chef. Nobody else would say that to me,” she says.
“Nobody else better say that to you,” I say. She giggles. I lean in and give her a swift kiss. I really don’t want this night to turn into another night of sex, but I have a hard time not touching her when she’s this close, this available. “You probably need to get home, don’t you?” She sighs against me.
“Probably. Mum is leaving soon and I need to spend more time with her. I don’t know when I will see her again. Maybe Christmas.”
I slide off of her lap and face her. “When do you want me tomorrow?” She reaches out and plays with a strand of my hair. I’m going to miss this closeness, her touch, her everything if I go to Italy.
“Whenever you’re up and about. I want you to do a little bit more celebrating tonight. You deserve it. Call Jessie and your other friends and have fun,” she says. Funny that I think this is celebrating. Just us. I walk her over to the door and kiss her one more time before I let her go.
“I’ll text you in the morning,” I say. She lingers in my doorway, kissing me softly, slowly. I’m two seconds from pulling her back inside.
“Have fun tonight. Tell your friends I say hello.” She walks down the hallway and gives me a quick wave before she disappears.
Chapter Twenty-six
My cell phone rings and I ignore it. I squint and see that it’s eight thirty. Jessie took me out last night and we didn’t get back until two this morning. I swear I just went to bed. When the home phone rings, I sit up. Very few people have my home phone number so I know it’s either an emergency, or a telemarketer who is about to hate his or her job.
“Hello?” My voice sounds raspy and foreign so I clear it, which only makes me sound like an eighty-year-old man.
“I’m trying to reach Katherine Blake.” I sort of know the voice, but my head is too foggy to process.
“Speaking,” I say. Or mumble. I’m not quite sure.
“Ki? This is Dr. Wright from Kirkwood. Is this a bad time?” My heart starts beating fast and I realize this is the call I’ve been waiting for. I clear my throat and reach for the water that is magically beside my bed. Thanks, Jessie.
“One moment.” I mute the phone, take a drink, and clear my throat. “Sorry about that. I’m back.”
“Sounds like you might have celebrated last night.”
I sort of chuckle. Get to the point, man. He pauses, so apparently I’m to respond. “Yes. My best friend took me out last night and I didn’t have to work this morning.”
“Well, I’m calling to congratulate you on being the winner of the Excellence in Culinary Arts Scholarship.” He pauses again.
At least I’m smiling now and ignoring my pounding headache. “That’s fantastic news, Dr. Wright. Thank you for calling and telling me.” He’s
quiet, but I’m not kissing his ass.
“It was a very good meal you prepared and we all appreciated the time, effort, and skills used to create it. Scott was a close second.” Now why did he have to add that during my glorious moment? Why couldn’t he just leave Scott out of this entirely?
“It’s nice to be recognized by my instructors. What has to happen now?” I ask.
“Well, come in early next week and we’ll sign the forms and get them to San Rocco.” And we are quiet again.
“Okay, I’ll do that. Thank you again.” Finally, he gets the hint and hangs up. I’m too pumped right now to go back to sleep, but I still have a serious hangover so I crawl back under the covers. I can text people instead. I text Jessie, Lynn, Bud and a few others. I don’t want to text Taryn. She knows by now. I need to call her. And my mom. I need to call her now.
“Hi, Mom.” My mom is already at work and has probably had four cups of coffee by now.
“What’s wrong? You sound horrible. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m good. I just wanted to let you know that I won the scholarship and I’m going to Italy early next month.” I realize I probably should have told her in person. My mom is going to have a hard time with me gone for ten months.
“Oh, honey, that’s great news.” She sounds genuinely happy. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks. I won’t know the details until next week, but I wanted to let you know first.” She doesn’t need to know I texted my friends and my boss before I called her. We talk for a bit longer and I tell her I have to go. We make plans to have lunch on Sunday. My phone blows up with my friends’ congratulatory wishes. I even have a text from Bud. I revel in their kind words before I get serious and call Taryn. She answers almost immediately.
“Good morning,” I say.
I can hear her smile. “Good morning, Ki.” I will never get tired of her saying my name.
“I’m sure you know why I’m calling.”
“You mean it’s not just to say hello and make plans for today?” She’s teasing.