by Ellerbe, Lyn
Stewed and Steamed
Aurora was optimistic heading into class the next evening. Their secret emails gave her hope. She had not told anyone, not even Jess, about the two brief computer conversations. It was almost as though they were treasures she wanted to keep for her own.
Before class, Jessica joined Rori in the studio.
“So Chef Charming is Jake Hampton’s best friend,” Rori sighed. She was lazily painting a spare canvas, wasting time before class.
“Isn’t that weird,” Jess said. “I knew that they knew each other from college, but didn’t realize they were close. Marcus must be the college friend Jake talked about on the ski retreat. The one that he got into all sorts of trouble with.”
Rori had quickly laid out a mountain valley scene reminiscent of an old fairy tale. Glancing at the clock, she saw she had time to outline a castle on one of the distant hills.
“Wow, that looks nice,” Jess jumped off her stool and looked closer. “It always amazes me how you can do that so quickly. It looks like a fairy tale castle. Like where Prince Charming or Princess Aurora would live.”
“Great,” Rori rolled her eyes. “I’ll call it Aurora’s Castle. If I even finish it. I really have a couple other pieces I absolutely have to finish for the show. I don’t even know why I started this one.”
“Oh, I do,” Jess teased. “You’ve got Prince Charming on your mind. Or is it Chef Charming?" She ducked as Rori threw a paint rag at her.
“That’s not funny,” Rori said.
“I think it’s hilarious,” Jess replied. “Seeing you thrown so off balance by the handsome chef is quite entertaining.”
“Off balance is an understatement,” Rori said under her breath.
“You are one of the most content people I know,” Jess continued. “I wonder what it is about Marcus MacRae that makes you so nervous. Have you ever reacted to a guy like this before?”
Rori fell unusually silent. Obviously, Jessica’s question had hit a tender spot, but Rori quickly gathered her emotions back into check and laughed.
“Oh, all the time,” she said. “I fall in and out of love almost daily. I should be over Chef Marcus by tomorrow, when the next pretty face comes along.”
“Yeah, right,” Jess said. She was curious about Rori’s reaction, but knew now was not the time to press for the truth.
“Help me clean up so we aren’t late to class,” Rori said, laughing off her roommate’s teasing.
Marcus saw Rori and Jessica enter about five minutes before class time. He was unsure how to behave. That he was attracted to her was obvious to him, but he needed to hide that from the rest of the world. Jake had tried to feed him a line about there not being restrictions on adjunct professors and graduate students, but it still did not feel kosher to Marcus. He was certain Aurora Sinclair would have been shocked had she been privy to the conversation Marcus had with Jake earlier that day.
“I know true, godly love is not based on physical attraction,” Marcus had pointed out to his friend, “and that’s why I’m struggling. When I saw her, it was like a movie special effect where everything else faded away.
Jake had barely managed to hide his laughter form Marcus.
“And that has worked out so well for you, now hasn’t it, Mr. ‘I’ve Got This Under Control’?”
Marcus was willing to accept the teasing because he knew Jake was trying to help. He just wanted answers, or relief from this torment.
“Well, I’ve gone through my options,” he said, “and telling her she’s not welcome in the class seems a little mean. Ignoring her hasn’t worked, so being rude seems my best bet.”
“Again, how’s that working for you?” Jake teased.
“Exactly,” Marcus groaned.
Jake turned the conversation back to Marcus’s original concern. “You do know Marcus that there are stories in the Bible about men and women of God who were attracted to each other. It’s not wrong to be attracted to her. And maybe, just a thought, it may be God’s way of getting your attention.”
“Oh, He’s gotten my attention,” Marcus laughed. “Of course now it’s about all I can think about.”
“I know you, my friend,” Jake said, “and I don’t think there’s a danger of you diving into an ungodly relationship based on a pretty face. The fact that we’re having this conversation indicates you want to do His will.”
“Tell me what you know about her.”
“She’s getting her Master of Fine Arts and graduates next week. She loves teaching children. Wicked sense of humor, very intelligent but so free-spirited that she seems ditzy at times. Oh, and she is very strong in her faith.”
“Way to bury the lead, bud,” Marcus said. “You knew I was asking about her spiritual life, but thanks for the bio. She needs to hire you as her public relations manager.
“My pleasure,” Jake turned serious. “I will tell you this, Marcus. Carla and I like Rori. A lot. Don’t go any deeper into this if you’re not sure. I don’t know the details, but I think something boy-related happened to her in high school, so as delightful and pretty as she is, she has very little experience in relationships. You are my best friend but, I won’t like it if you hurt her or break her heart.”
“Understood,” Marcus said. Jake’s warning only echoed the one inside his own head.
Unwilling to act on his friend’s advice without more debate, Marcus decided the only way to protect him, and Rori, was to adopt the veneer of indifference. He hoped she would realize it was a thinly veiled act, but he obviously did not know her well. Those closest to her would counsel him against such a tactic. Rori was such an open and carefree person that the thought of subterfuge of this sort, even for logical reasons, was outside of her understanding.
“I thought I did better last night,” she said, bemoaning Chef MacRae’s obvious irritation. “Why does he hate me so much?”
“At least he’s not picking on you tonight,” Jess pointed out. “He’s just ignoring you.”
“Exactly,” Rori was meticulously chopping and slicing vegetables. They had been assigned Chinese cuisine tonight and were preparing their ingredients to put into the pressure cooker.
Almost every culinary region on the planet had a traditional meat dish combined with vegetables that was typically slow cooked. Marcus was introducing the students to the marvel of a pressure cooker that reduced the hours-long process to less than an hour. The class would be taking their quizzes while the stews cooked noisily on their stations.
“He really didn’t like my slicing skills,” Rori sulked, recalling the looks and sighs the chef leveled at her when he walked around the room during their preparation time. He stopped and helped several of the other students, all women she remembered, but at her station, he just shook his head and moved on.
“He didn’t say anything,” Jess reminded her.
“Not with his mouth.” Rori continued her pout. “But with his eyes he did. I can’t catch a break. I’m beginning to think I should just drop the class.”
“No!” Jess insisted. “I’m going to make you stick it out. You need to be forced out of that dungeon, especially this week and next.” Jess knew that pressure of the looming art show was only going to increase with each day. If her friend did not have something specific that required her out to leave the basement studio, Jess was afraid she was going to find Rori curled into a ball, unconscious from not eating or passed out from only breathing paint fumes.
Jess’s exclamation was loud enough to attract attention, apparently, as Chef raised his eyebrow in inquiry.
“Everything all right, Your Highness?” Chef grimaced as he wished desperately he could change his choice of words. I sound like a bully, he thought.
“Yes, Chef,” the roommates answered in unison. Of course, with the tension of the evening so far, the singsong sound of their answer gave Rori a terrible case of the giggles. Chef’s frown deepened, but he left them alone the rest of the evening.
The stews were delicious and those
in the class that had never seen, much less used, a pressure cooker were congratulating themselves. The Spanish stew that an older couple who were taking the class for fun was Rori’s favorite.
John Liu insisted the Chinese red stew she and Jess had prepared was the best, and it did in fact garner a nod and ‘Not bad,’ from Chef Marcus. Or Chef high-and-mighty-Marcus, as Rori was referring to him in her mind by the end of the evening. It was starting to irk her that he singled her out for either pointed criticism or total ignoring. There was no in-between. She was starting to think she had imagined their secret email conversations.
“Well, three down, nine to go,” the weary artist sighed as she and Jess left the building. Her roommate had insisted that she not go back to the studio tonight.
“God will take care of you getting your pieces done,” Jess had encouraged her. She added playfully, “If you need help, I can always throw something together, too. It’ll be great! Everyone will say, ‘Wow I love Aurora’s work, except that one piece that looks like a two year old did it,’!”
“That would probably be their favorite piece,” Rori moped.
“That attitude is exactly why you will not be going back to the studio tonight,” the roommate turned dictator insisted. “Ice cream and coffee it is!” Calling out to their classmates, “Hey, John and Calvin, come with us. We’re going to go drown our sorrows in coffee and ice cream.”
“I will gladly come to your rescue, Princesses,” John bowed deeply, his mysterious Asian eyes twinkling. “However I may assist you, I am yours to command.”
John’s friend, Calvin, who was one of the college’s most promising wrestlers, swept a deep bow alongside his friend. Slated to try out for the Olympics this summer, he knew his size intimidated many of their classmates. Rori and Jess had both had him in several classes, so they knew he was in fact just a big softie.
The girls laughed and each took the arm of one of the knights-in-shining armor and headed for the café across from the main campus boulevard. The tall red headed man observing their interplay turned and slammed the lesson plans on the desk in his office. Papers scattered, leaving the office in a state that matched his mood.
“Jake,” Marcus held his head in his hands and spoke into the phone. “I need help. I know it’s late, but can I come by and talk to you and Carla?”
“No problem, bud,” Jake could hear the exhaustion in his friend’s voice. “Kiddo’s asleep and coffee’s on.”
“I don’t know why she gets under my skin,” Marcus leaned his head back in the comfortable overstuffed chairs in the Hampton’s den. He missed the secret smile between the young couple.
After Jake visited the class the day before, they had discussed the situation at length. Instead of laying their theory out to him, though, the young couple wanted Marcus to come to his own conclusions. It may be more painful this way, but Jake wanted the realization to be internal. He knew from experience that being forced into a relationship just because everyone around said, ‘Oh you make a cute couple,’ could be a big mistake. Carla agreed that Rori was a perfect match for Marcus, but neither she nor Jake wanted to get in front of God’s will and guidance. Patience, they had both decided.
“I find myself being purposefully mean to her,” Marcus agonized, “but I can’t seem to help myself.”
“Tell you what,” Jake offered, “I will come help teach tomorrow night. It’s pasta night anyway, right? We both know my pasta making skills are far, far superior to yours, what with the Italian heritage and all.”
“What good will that do?” Marcus was thinking that was the worst idea ever. Having his best friend observe his terrible behavior towards this lovely young lady would only mean he would have to endure chastisement for hours afterwards.
“That will allow you to ignore her," Jake explained. “I’ll do the demonstration and then we can split up the class for closer interaction. You just be sure to take the opposite side of the room.”
“That might work,” Marcus reluctantly admitted, now inexplicably a little ticked at his friend. Was he actually jealous that his best friend would be working with Aurora?
“Better?” Jake asked his friend pointedly as he prepared to leave.
“Yes, thanks,” Marcus said. Calling into the kitchen, “Thanks, Carla for the goodies. Kiss that Princess Zoe for me.” Princess. That seems to be a recurring theme in my life lately. He groaned as he headed to his car.
-------------------------
Resolved to do this, she forced herself to sit in front of her computer and turn it on. Maybe he would get so mad at her request that he would ask her to drop the class. Tomorrow at noon was the deadline to receive a full refund. After that, she was out any money she paid for tuition, plus a failing grade would go on her transcript. She was taking it for credit thinking it would help round out her resume.
Dear Chef: (she refused still to call him Marcus) I was wondering what the class policy was for absences? I have an art show a week from Saturday night, but the art professors have just scheduled a preview cocktail hour on Friday evening. I know this is sort of last minute, but if there is any way I can be excused from class that night, I would be grateful. I checked the syllabus and it looks like we are doing the second half of the group presentations on Friday night. If Miss Johnston and I could do ours on Thursday, then it would not hurt her grade for me to be gone on Friday. Although she would do better without me, I am sure you would agree. Thank you. ~Aurora Sinclair.
She hit the send button nervously. All he could do is say no, right? Or, she thought, he could say no and hold it against you.
Shocked to see her name in his inbox, he selected her message. He read it twice, took a deep breath, and read it again. She hates me (why else would she want to miss class), she thinks I’m a brute (he could hear her saying, ‘I am sure you would agree’), and we’ve slipped back into Aurora Sinclair instead of just Aurora. And did she think I was joking about the Marcus instead of Chef Marcus?
Blinded with frustration, and completely forgetting the resolutions he had made while talking with Jake and Carla, he quickly typed:
Dear Miss Sinclair: Your class attendance is entirely a personal decision. If you decide it is absolutely necessary to miss next Friday, please be sure to sign up for one of the Thursday demonstration slots. ~Chef Marcus MacRae
Perfect Portraits
“Hey, Rori,” Carla answered the knock at her door, surprised to see her good friend. “Shouldn’t you be slaving away in the studio?”
“I’m waiting for one of my paintings to dry before I can finish the next layer,” the young painter replied. “So, the whole ‘watching paint dry’ isn’t just a cliché?” Carla laughed. “Come in. You can help keep Zoe occupied while I make lunch.”
“Aunt Wa-Ree!” Zoe skipped down the hall.
“Hey, squirt!” Rori twirled the four year old around. “Let’s draw something while Mommy cooks us a delicious lunch.”
“I wanna draw you!” Zoe plopped down at the kitchen table where her crayons and a pad of construction paper were spread in lovely, creative disarray.
“Okay, Zoe,” Rori agreed, “and I’ll draw you.” The real reason Rori had stopped by was to ask Carla about Chef MacRae. As far as she knew, no one since high school had ever instantly disliked her and Rori was curious as to what she had done to make him hate her. His last email made his feelings, or indifference, clear.
“So, Rori,” Carla asked as she sliced homemade bread for grilled cheese sandwiches, “how’s your cooking class going? Is Marcus treating you well?” Carla was brimming with curiosity ever since Marcus had admitted that he was attracted to Rori. At least I know that’s true, even if he is having a hard time admitting it, Carla thought.
“Ha,” Rori guffawed, “I wish. I think he hates me, actually. I can’t seem to do anything right and I have such a hard time being serious for very long that my humor always seems to come out at the wrong times. Is he always so serious?”
“No, actually, he’s real
ly a kind person,” Carla wanted to give her friend the most complete picture of Marcus that she could.
“Really?” Rori mumbled. “Could have fooled me.”
“Stop frowning, Aunt Wa-Ree!” Zoe was taking her portrait drawing very seriously.
Carla laughed at her intense daughter’s comment. “Yes, Rori, stop frowning. Marcus is Jake’s best friend and I would think you know us well enough that you could trust our judgment.”
“Point taken,” Rori admitted, casually sketching the youngster sitting across from her. “So tell me about this Prince of a man.” Carla was amazed that Rori could hold a serious conversation and draw so beautifully at the same time.
“Marcus grew up in a good, faithful family, although they are quite a bit more reserved than your family probably is. I think it’s something in the proper British upbringing and all. He has a younger brother Collin, a younger sister named Katie, and an older brother, James who’s married and has a son about Zoe’s age.”
“Nice cookbook cover information,” Rori said wryly, “but I’d like something juicier, please.”
“Juicier?” Carla laughed. “Like is he dating someone? Does he like brunettes or redheads? Is he a secret agent or in witness protection?”
“Is he?” Rori stopped sketching long enough to look intently at Carla. The serious look in Rori's eyes let the young mom know just how deeply her husband's friend had affected her. But she had to be sure.
“Is he what?” Carla asked teasingly.
“Dating anyone?” Rori ventured.
“No. He dated a little in college from what I can remember, but not a lot since then. His standards are high, thankfully. He loves Zoe and his nephew, and from what we see, both Jake and I think he’ll make a marvelous father.” Carla decided to press for some answers. “Why the sudden interest?”
“I don’t know,” Rori said. “I’ve tried to figure that out myself. I think it just may be that he doesn’t seem to like me and I want to figure out why.” She seemed truly unsure of her own motivations, so Carla backed off even though she suspected there was more to Rori’s motivation.