by Ellerbe, Lyn
“What else do you want to know?” Carla asked.
“What did he do after culinary school?” Rori was now completely focused on her adult conversation, and Zoe was now coloring in her picture so her inattention was accepted.
“He took a job as chef at a fancy ski resort, which seemed unusual at the time,” Carla explained. “He was close to the top of their graduating class, so the position he took was not as prestigious as expected. But we found out later that his mom was caring for his step-grandmother who was suffering from Alzheimer’s disease. The assisted living complex was a couple hours away from the resort, so it was a perfect chance for him to help out.”
Rori was quietly trying to take all this in. Marcus was definitely not what he appeared to be on the surface.
“I know you don’t know all of our history, either, but Marcus played a big role in getting me and Jake together, too.”
“Really?” So Chef Charming is a matchmaker, too, Rori thought.
“Yes,” Carla was obviously revisiting the time in her memories. “Jake went through a tough time when he lost his dad and wouldn’t have made it without Marcus. Jake had turned into a hotheaded ruffian. Marcus’s prayers and friendship were what brought him out of that dark time. It was right after that that he introduced me to Jake.”
Rori was quiet. There was really nothing she could say. Carla set the plate of lunchmeat and cheese out. They were going to have gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches, apparently. Rori just then noticed how much food was on the platter.
“Expecting company?” Rori asked at the same time she heard the front door open. Marcus followed Jake into the kitchen. He was startled to see her sitting at Carla’s kitchen table.
“Aurora?” The chef’s surprise and embarrassment were evident in his voice. He and Jake had just spent an hour playing racquetball. It was a twice-weekly routine they had started in college and resumed when Marcus came on staff in the spring. Only Jake saw the look of panic.
“Hey, Rori!” Jake said as he hugged his wife and planted a wet kiss on her cheek.
“Ew, you’re sweaty and stinky!” Carla laughed and dodged a second attempt for a kiss from her husband.
“I know, I know,” Jake tweaked Zoe’s nose after releasing his wife, “but you’ll have to wait. I promised Marcus he could change here since you were preparing your famous gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches. I tried to lie to him and say we wouldn’t have enough for his wolf-like appetite.” What Rori did not know was this was a pure spur of the moment fabrication. Marcus threw him a look of gratitude as he headed for the master bedroom to clean up and change clothes.
Jake spent the few minutes it took his friend to change admiring his daughter’s masterpiece. And Rori’s, of course.
“Zoe drew me and I drew her,” Rori explained.
“Ah, that helps,” Jake nodded. “I could tell this was you,” he said to Rori as he pointed to Zoe’s childlike depiction, “but I’m glad you told me yours was supposed to be Zoe.”
“Daddy, that is not nice,” Zoe reprimanded her father. “Aunt Wa-ree tried her very best. And she likes to draw, which is the most important thing. Right?” Her last question was directed at her art teacher.
“Yes, Zoe,” Rori loved the interplay with this sweet girl. “You are absolutely right. Art is about enjoying yourself.”
“A lot like cooking,” a familiar voice came from the hallway.
How long had he been standing there? And couldn’t he try a little harder to be less handsome? Rori’s thoughts raced.
“My turn to get all prettified,” Jake declared as he pushed away from the kitchen table. He threw Marcus a loaded look and decided to push some buttons.
“Marcus, Zoe and Rori just drew lovely pictures of each other,” he said, adding mischievously, “maybe they could draw you next.” Marcus threw him an ‘I’m going to get you for this’ look.
“No,” Rori said at the same time Zoe exclaimed, “Yes! Yes! I want to draw Uncle Marcus!”
“I need to get back to the studio,” Rori pleaded.
“Not before you eat!” Carla insisted.
“Scared?” Marcus said quietly as he leaned over to admire her portrait of Zoe. He couldn’t seem to resist inciting her. It was patently obvious she did not wish to be in the same room with him.
“Of you?” The words were out of her mouth before she thought.
“Are you?” he retorted.
“No,” she came back.
“Prove it.” He sat on the stool at the kitchen counter and folded his arms, striking a pose ready for his portrait.
“Fine,” Rori conceded, unable to keep a touch of annoyance from her voice. “Let’s draw Uncle Marcus, Zoe. Do you want to use the crayons or should I?” She couldn’t resist the comment, letting him know she thought he was being childish.
“Me,” Zoe volunteered. “I like all the colors.”
Rori was determined to get the torture over with quickly. She sketched Marcus, arms folded, holding a curved knife in one hand and a cooking whisk in the other. She grinned at the image. She added a plaid sash across his muscular chest, trying to ignore the broad shoulders, chiseled features, and gorgeous auburn hair.
“Do you have a specific clan tartan for your family?” Her question surprised him. Not everyone knew of the Scottish heritage of plaids. “I can borrow Zoe’s crayons to make this more authentic.”
“Blue and green, mainly,” Marcus replied succinctly, squirming under the intense attention from Rori.
“Zoe, may I borrow your crayons? Just blue and green, please.” Rori picked out the necessary colors after the little girl nodded. Minutes later, she turned over her sketchbook and stood up.
“I’m done,” Rori stated, and thanked Carla for the sandwich she had eaten while she was sketching. “I’ve got to get back to the studio.” Looking at Zoe’s depiction of Marcus, she complimented the young artist.
“You’ve done a marvelous job, Zoe! That smile is definitely Uncle Marcus.”
“Are you not going to share your masterpiece, Miss Sinclair?” Marcus had moved into the kitchen to create his grilled cheese from the array of ingredients. He tried to make his tone sound uninterested. In reality, he was very anxious to see her artwork.
“I’ll leave it, but will need to take my sketchbook,” Rori tore the page out and placed it face down on the counter.
“Aren’t you going to autograph it?” Marcus asked.
“Already did,” she smiled a falsely sweet smile. She tried to send him a message, I know you’re trying to annoy me, but it’s not going to work.
As she closed the door, he turned over the paper. She had drawn him with a fierce, warrior-like look. It was uncannily good. Her choice of weapons was comical. He couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, she’s good,” Marcus said, his tone making it clear that he referred to more than just her artistic skill. She knows exactly what to do to provoke me.
“What was she doing here?” he asked Carla. “Isn’t she neck deep in completing her art work for her show or something?”
Carla shrugged her shoulders, dismissing the importance of her conversation with Rori. She was not going to tell Marcus that he was the topic of their talk until after she talked to Jake about it.
“She said she was waiting for one of her pieces to dry before she could complete it,” Jake’s wife explained. “And we’re friends, remember?”
“Whatever,” Marcus mumbled.
“He has it bad, honey,” Jake badgered his friend. “We should take it easy on him. Poor guy.”
“I’m outta here,” Marcus finished his sandwich, and kissed Zoe on the tip of her nose, thanking her for her lovely artwork, which he promised to put on his fridge.
Jake walked him to the door.
“Really, Marcus,” he said, “if you need to talk, let me know.”
“I will.”
Jake returned to his wife. “Spill it,” he said. Carla described her conversation with Rori.
“S
o, Rori likes Marcus and Marcus likes Rori,” Jake summarized his wife’s take on the situation.
“This is not junior high school, dear,” Carla poked him. “This is serious.”
“I know, I know,” Jake said. “She’s scheduled to move right after graduation, so we need to work fast!”
Perplexing Pasta
Rori purposefully slipped into class right before starting time. Being late would bring unwanted attention but she did not want to risk being alone with Marcus before class either. She had not returned to the studio after lunch at the Hamptons, but instead had stopped by the church to talk to the assistant pastor.
Reverend Samuel Collins had been on the retreat where Rori had first gotten to know Jake and Carla well, and he thought this lovely young lady was a delight. To see her so distressed concerned him.
“I’ve never had anyone take me in dislike so quickly,” Rori shared with the young pastor. “I know it shouldn’t surprise me, and in the long run shouldn’t really matter, but am I doing something wrong? I don’t want to irritate the man to the point of frustration.”
“Why shouldn’t it surprise you that someone might dislike you?” Her statement confused Sam. He couldn’t imagine anyone disliking Rori Sinclair. She was one of the friendliest and most lighthearted people he knew. Of course, he knew that the carefree attitude could be a defense mechanism. He would address this later if he needed to.
Not wanting to delve into a painful memory from her past, she tried to downplay her comment. Rori became quiet, feelings from high school flooding in. Sam noticed her hesitation, though.
“I’m so unruly and messy compared to him,” Rori said, choosing to stick with to current problem.
“I think there’s more to it, Rori,” Sam pressed. “If you are really concerned about dealing with Marcus MacRae, you’re going to need to be completely honest with me, and with yourself.”
“There was a guy in high school that treated me pretty badly,” Rori did not want to dwell on the incident so summarized it, hoping to convey that she had dealt with it and moved on. “I was a wreck for a few months, but he actually met with me and my parents a couple years later and apologized. I think I had pretty much forgotten about it until this week. Even though I am over it, I know it made me leery where guys are involved.”
“I see how that could affect your perception of Chef MacRae’s attitude towards you,” the pastor agreed. “Tell me a little more about your interaction with him.”
“Are you by chance attracted to this man?” Sam asked after listening attentively to her take on the situation. He had suspicions about what was really going on, both on Rori’s part and probably also on Chef MacRae’s side.
She was not at all prepared for the question.
“What does the fact that he is good-looking have to do with anything?!” she asked, a tad defensively.
“So you do find him attractive?” The young pastor asked, barely hiding a smile.
“I didn’t say that,” Rori protested, albeit a bit lamely. “Even if I did, I still don’t see what that has to do with anything.” She was not willing to admit outright how Marcus made her feel.
“Well,” the young pastor continued. “I think we talk so much about the dangers of infatuation that we forget that God created physical attraction, too. While it is dangerous, and I’d even say very dangerous, to base a relationship solely or primarily on physical features, many of us would have never found the one God had for us if they hadn’t ‘turned our heads’ so to speak the first time we met them.”
Aurora sat in silence, struggling to adjust her thinking. This was out of left field, she thought, and I don’t even like baseball, her silliness snuck in.
“Did you stop to think that it was not coincidence that you took his class?” Sam asked. “I’m not saying God has grave plans for you to reform this hardened, bitter man, but I hear confusion as well as frustration in your voice. I think you actually like this man, despite his harshness toward you.”
“But he hates me,” Rori blurted.
“I doubt that,” Pastor Collins cautioned her. “But even if he did, it doesn’t change the fact that God placed you in his class for a reason. You’ll need to determine what that reason is. Maybe it’s to teach him to be more patient, or to teach you that there are going to be unpleasant people in your life.”
Not sure which theory she liked best – she was the problem or Marcus was. Either she needed to be nice to him because God was teaching her patience, or Marcus was the one with the problem and her presence in his class was meant to irritate him into showing patience himself.
“Or,” Pastor broke into her thoughts, “It could be like I said before, an attraction that you will have to determine is either infatuation or something deeper.”
That theory is pure nonsense, Rori thought. She tried to ignore her heartbeat’s response to the idea.
“Either way, I will be praying for you, starting now.” The young pastor, himself a newlywed, took her hands and prayed, “Father, please guide this lovely young lady in the path you have for her. I know she is confused and unsure of her feelings towards this man, but you are not a God of confusion. Help her seek Your will and make Your path clear to her. Amen.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Rori stood and shook out her long jeans skirt. “I promise to spend some time in prayer before class, examining my attitude. I appreciate you letting me talk through this. Despite the teacher, I am really enjoying the class, and maybe I’ll learn enough to make you and Ruthie a gourmet meal.”
“Sounds delicious,” Sam walked her to the door. “What’s the topic tonight?”
“Pasta,” Rori shuddered. “Yikes.”
“Yum,” Sam laughed.
Jake smoothly took over the teaching duties that evening. He was correct in his assessment of his superior pasta skills, although Marcus would never admit it.
Mastering the delicacy of working the dough was difficult for several of the students, but for some reason Rori caught on immediately. Perhaps it was her artist’s control of her hands, or more likely the lack of pressure from having Marcus ready to pounce on her every misstep.
“Very nice, Rori,” Jake praised her. “Are you sure you’re not part Italian?”
“You’re so right,” Rori admittedly mischievously. “What gave it away? Was it my long blond hair or the blue eyes?”
Marcus cringed at the sound of his friend’s laughter. He knew without turning around that Jake was working at Jess and Rori’s table right now. This was what he wanted for tonight, so why did the good-natured camaraderie irk him so much? He would have been even more upset had he overheard their conversation.
“So, you and Marcus are best buddies, I see,” Jake teased her.
“Not sure that’s what I’d call it,” she answered wryly. “We just seem to be destined to annoy each other.”
“You guys are as different as night and day in some ways,” Jake said, “but bizarrely similar in others.”
“No way,” Rori laughed. “Like how?”
“You both have the same sense of humor,” Jake told her.
“Marcus has a sense of humor?!” she asked incredulously.
“Exactly.” Jake laughed loudly, eliciting a glare from across the room. He returned to his instructor duties with a grin on his face, convinced that his friend should pursue this delightful young lady. It would do Marcus good to have someone shake up his ordered world.
He and Jake had prepared several sauces for the class to choose from for their pastas. The skill of making, rolling, and shaping the pastas would fill the two-hour class time, so they opted to do the sauces and filings themselves. Only two of the groups were doing filled pastas, so Jake had shown them individually how to prepare simple and quick fillings. Of course, Jess had chosen a filled version for the challenge, giving Jake more time with Aurora.
Marcus finished up with his last group and then returned to his station to insure the sauces were ready. The pasta would cook quickly, so he was waitin
g until everyone had ample time for instruction and feedback.
“Okay, class,” Jake rejoined Marcus in the center of the lab, “If your water is boiling sufficiently, go ahead and drop in your pasta. Fresh pasta cooks very quickly, so keep an eye on it, paying attention to the details we gave you.”
“How you doin’?” Jake turned to Marcus using his best New Jersey shore accent.
Marcus just growled at him.
“Down, boy,” his friend laughed. “So this little ‘ignore it and it will go away’ experiment - not so successful, huh?”
“You seemed to be enjoying it,” Marcus glowered at him, his jealousy giving a critical, almost accusatory, tone to his words.
“If this weren’t so funny, I’d knock you out for that one, buddy,” Jake was exasperated with Marcus. “You have a distinct green hue about your entire being right now. Perhaps you need to see a doctor.” He walked away from Marcus before he said anything he would regret later. He remembered how it felt when he first met Carla and how totally ticked off he became at the charming fraternity boy that hung around her all the time. That is, until he found out frat boy was her cousin.
“All right class,” the visiting chef called for their attention. “Most of your pastas should be done. Get them out of the pot and ready to serve. It smells delicious in here!”
The dishes were in fact very delicious. Rori was so proud of herself for having conquered the difficult skill that she resolved to not let the ill-mannered chef affect her mood. I can survive this, especially if the benefits include eating like this every night.
-------------------------
It was an irresistible addiction. She sat in front of the computer screen vowing not to reach out to her nemesis, but it was if her fingers had a mind of their own. She chuckled to herself and made a mental note to sketch her hand with faces on each of her fingers.
Dear Chef Charming… No, better not go there. She backspaced to erase her secret nickname.