Let's Hear It For Finishing A Story :)
Dec. 18th, 2006 07:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofavalon77Another thing about this story that I tried to incorporate but I think a second rewrite will be needed before it comes out the way I wanted is the idea that cooking and marriage have many parallels. And as the two of them prepare the meal together, they discover what they loved about each other in the first place. There's something about coming together to help each other perform a common task that helps in putting the past behind you and makes you grow closer together. Unfortunately, I think I could have done a better job on showing those parallels in their conversations and actions but I hope you get a little bit of that idea as you read the story itself!
However before I unveil this little piece of fun let me hand out the next set of Christmas presents for
clementine_lime, clicketyclick3, and crashandburn. The icon for each person goes from left to right in the order I just gave :) Merry Christmas!
And finally here's the story I was babbling about for the last few paragraphs. I hope you enjoy it!
What was that smell? Was something burning?
Worried that a small fire had started somewhere in his house, Charles Logan quickly made his way from the comfort of his study to the sound of banging pots and slamming cabinet doors that was coming from the kitchen. Even from down the hallway, he could hear her screams of frustration as the meal she had planned for the two of them went up in smoke...literally. Trying to restrain the urge to smile, he paused a moment outside the kitchen door, debating the pros and cons of bearding the lioness in her den. The last time he had peaked his head in, she had chased him out with a wooden spoon, making threats that any further intrusions into her domestic domain would be met with violent force. Therefore, he decided to settle for a gentle knock on the door to announce his presence...better to warn her of his arrival than to suddenly show up unexpected.
"Marty..." he queried, keeping his voice low and non threatening. "Is everything ok in there?"
"It will be once this pot roast is done," she quipped, slamming the oven door shut with such force that he flinched. "What do you want, Charles?"
"Nothing...just making sure you were ok."
"I'm fine, thank you," she replied and he winced at the cold tone of her voice. "Dinner should be ready in an hour."
"Alright, honey...just call me if you need anything."
"Will do" was her terse reply before he turned back toward the shelter of his study.
Better to let her handle this on her own. That couch is not the most comfortable place to sleep these days.
And then the smoke alarm went off followed by a howl of fury. Or maybe not…
No longer concerned about the consequences, Charles raced into the kitchen only to come to an abrupt stop, stunned by the complete chaos he found himself in. Cooking utensils and various ingredients were spilled across the counters while pots of unknown liquids cheerfully bubbled over on to the crowded stove. To think that just hours earlier, he had had breakfast in an immaculate, stainless steel kitchen. Hurricane Martha had struck again...leaving a trail of destruction in her wake.
"Dammit!" she shouted, getting up on a step stool to accost the ringing smoke alarm with a spatula. “It’s not like I’m trying to burn the house down but just the slightest hint of smoke and this confounded alarm goes off. I‘m on my last nerve, Charles. Really I am.”
A secret service agent appeared at the backdoor, unsure if he should interfere or not. However, Logan was quick to warn the agent away with a shake of his head. No need to bring more people into this than was necessary. If there were going to be casualties, better to limit the number of bodies to one. After all, there was no telling how Martha would explode after this cooking fiasco. He wanted to limit the fallout as much as possible
"Martha...I’m sure the Secret Service have already called in the false fire alarm. Let's just turn on the fan and get this smoke out of the kitchen," he tried to reassure her, speaking carefully in an attempt to calm her frazzled nerves.
Brushing aside the hand he offered to help her down, Martha descended from the step stool in a huff, pushing past him to take the burning pot roast out of the oven. Grabbing a nearby towel, she threw the door open and seized the huge roasting pan in both hands before dumping it unceremoniously into the sink. For a moment, he thought she would break down as she held on to the edge of the counter with both hands before closing her eyes and lowering her head in defeat.
"I wanted this dinner to be special, Charles…our first night together since you left office…and now all I have is this horrible mess and an overcooked roast."
"Well, you know I always like my steak well done," he ventured, slowly walking up to her side, briefly stopping to rub her shoulder before reaching for a fork and spearing a piece of the scorched meat. "I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks."
"Honey, trust me on this...I burnt it."
Boldly taking a bite despite her warning, Charles bravely endeavored to chew his way through but quickly met some tough resistance.
"It's really not that bad..." he tried to assure her, forcing himself to swallow while giving her his best grin. "In fact…I think you might be on to something here. I say we put in a call to Martha Stewart right now and have it featured on her next show.”
"Charles...you're a terrible liar…but a very sweet husband," she responded, smiling as she laid her head back against his comforting shoulder and reached her hand up to squeeze his arm. "However, it pains me to tell you this…but you don't know jack about cooking."
"Oh, really? I‘ll have you know that I was considered a pretty experienced chef during my days as a carefree bachelor," he informed her with more than a little pride as he guided her to a dining room chair.
“Did you just say carefree?” she asked, turning around to face him with a raised eyebrow. “What are you trying to say, Charles? That married life isn‘t as fun as you thought it would be?”
“Nothing like that Martha. I was trying to make a point that…” he trailed off, desperately looking for something…anything to save him from this trap he had fallen into.
“Yes…” she prompted, waiting for his answer with both eyebrows raised.
“…that I think I should cook for us tonight. You need a break and I want to show you that I can do more than just pay the bills,” he quickly explained, striking a semi seductive pose while dropping his voice to a husky whisper as he adopted the role of a French paramour. “Allow me to seduce you with strawberry shortcake…charm you with Chicken Marsala…and win you over with watercress salad. And I promise…that when I am done…you’ll never want to cook again…mon cheri.”
Unfortunately the only response he received was an outburst of giggles as Martha tried to keep a straight face but failed completely. When she was finally able to speak, she could only gasp out, “Charles…please please PLEASE promise me…you won’t do that…ever again!” And of course it was followed by more giggles.
“You wound me to the core, Martha,” he replied, turning away in mock despair as she continued to chuckle. “But I shall press on. All brilliant men were doubted at one time or another. But when you have tasted the results of my culinary efforts, you will come around. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Whatever you say, dear,” she managed before bursting into another fit of chuckles when she thought of his poor French accent and attempts to be seductive. “Whatever…you…say.”
"You mock me now…" he replied, taking up this unofficial challenge of his cooking skills. "But that will all change once you have tasted the fruits of my labor. Now please vacate the premises as a true artiste must have space to craft his masterpiece. I will call you in one hour, my lady."
“All right, Charles…though I’m not sure it’s exactly safe to leave you alone.”
“Well, I can’t do much worse,” he quipped, looking around at the mess she had left behind before she gave him a playful swat to the back of his head. “Ow!”
“Don’t be mean. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
“A true genius needs more time than that, my love.”
“Well, this genius’ wife is not going to let her husband run amuck in her kitchen. I’ll be back in a half hour and can help with whatever you started.”
“I’ll be waiting with bated breath for your return.”
Martha opened her mouth to respond with a witty reply but thought better of it as she shook her head and smiled at her husband’s amusing antics. Better to wait and see the results before passing judgment. Carefully rolling up his shirt sleeves and donning a large apron, the former President of the United States concentrated on setting the kitchen to rights. It was a much tougher job than he realized as he placed the pots and pans in the dishwasher, wiped the counters, and swept the floor. For a few minutes he was worried she would return before he had really started working his magic…but not to fear, Martha was anything if not reliable in taking her time when getting dressed. A half hour estimate from her really meant anywhere from an hour or two of real time. He should be able to make some significant headway into the preparation of this meal before she returned to the kitchen.Took her less than ten minutes to make a mess and almost an hour to clean it up…but that’s why I love her…
Checking the refrigerator to see what was left after this disaster in the kitchen, Charles discovered exactly what he was looking for…a package of uncooked chicken. With the right spices and seasoning, he could make something they would both enjoy. Though many would never guess that Charles Logan was actually pretty experienced in the cooking department, the former President of the United States discovered that he enjoyed the precise preparation and guaranteed results that the culinary arts provided him. There was something therapeutic about mixing together a number of different ingredients and producing a single dish that everyone could enjoy. His busy political schedule had never allowed him to show this other side of his personality to Martha but now that retirement was upon him he had nothing but time on his hands and he meant to show her just what kind of man she had married. A man who was determined to give her the time she needed after neglecting her for so long.I won’t make the same mistake twice…she means too much to me. Not after I almost lost her after the motorcade attack…from now on, she’s all that matters.
Seizing the salt shaker in one hand and some fresh ground pepper in the other, Charles began to season the chicken and work the spices into the meat so the full flavor would come all the way through. He would also need some chopped onions and minced garlic. A second perusal of the refrigerator produced the wanted items and he expertly prepared both ingredients before laying them aside for later on. Heating a large sauté pan on the stove until he could feel the heat emanating from the surface, he added three tablespoons of oil and waited for the smoke to appear before dropping in the pieces of chicken, sautéing the meat until it was golden brown on all sides. Now time to put in the garlic and onions to fully bring out the succulent flavor of the meat he had just cooked.Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.
After two minutes of letting the chicken sauté on its own, he moved it to another pan and covered it with a lid to keep the meat from cooling down. Grabbing hold of one of the bottles on the wine rack, he carefully poured just the right amount into the pan he had been using to cook the chicken, combining the wine with apple balsamic vinegar for the perfect sauce. Then it was time to throw in a tomato, some butter, and a bouquet garni to finally round off this simple but delicious medley as he brought it to a boil before finally adding the chicken to allow it to soak in the wonderful flavors. It had been a long time since he had prepared something like this but it seemed he hadn’t lost his touch judging from the enticing aromas filling the kitchen.
“Where is that wonderful smell coming from?” his wife’s incredulous voice reached him as she entered the kitchen and stared in shock for a moment to see him at the stove tending to the chicken he had been nurturing for the last hour. “Charles…are you wearing an apron?”
“Well, I needed something to keep my silk shirt clean while I was cooking this meal for us,” he replied, referring to the recipe book he had opened earlier as he took out a spoon and tested the sauce. “Taste this and tell me what you think.”
“Should I be worried?” she teased, raising an eyebrow while gingerly accepting the spoon.
“Only if you’re afraid of being wrong.”
“Ha! I’m more afraid of being…” she started to tell him but was stopped by the incredible sensations her taste buds were undergoing as they sampled this delicately seasoned but wonderfully rich sauce he had created. “…in danger of falling in love with you all over again. How in the world did you make this?”
“Good, isn’t it?” he replied, eyes sparkling at her complete shock at his cooking skills. “Personally I think I put a little too much wine but there is always time to improve on the recipe.”
“You can never have too much wine, Charles,” she replied, returning his smile with her own as she reached over to sample the main course one more time but was immediately rebuffed. “Hey! I thought you wanted me to try this!”
“That was just a foretaste of what’s to come, my dear woman. You will have to wait before you sample the rest of this ambrosia from the gods.”
“Oh please, it’s good…but not that good. I think you‘ve taken my one small compliment as a license to lord your cooking skills over me.”
“Not at all, dear. I created this dish specifically with you in mind.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, taking a seat at the counter while focusing her full attention on him.
“I was hoping you’d ask,” he responded warmly as he retrieved a bag of rice, another frying pan, butter, an onion, red pepper, and some salt. “You see, Marty, there are many good metaphors between being a good chef and being a good husband.”
“Is that right, Charles? Please enlighten me,” she replied back with a small smile forming on her lips, playing along with his little game. “I just love it when you talk metaphors.”
“Well, if that’s the case…” he responded, pausing in his efforts to chop the onion and red pepper to walk over to her and whisper in her ear. “I think we can finish this conversation in the bedroom.”
“Oh really? And leave me wondering how you think this meal and our marriage are related?” she shot back with the coy smile he loved so much as she escaped from his grasp and went to add the butter to the pan that was warming up on the stove. “I don’t think so, dear husband. That which you promised, you must fulfill.”
“If I must,” he replied sadly, returning to chop the vegetables with a dejected air. “So close…and yet so far away.”
“You’ll have to do better than that if you expect to corner this housewife,” she teased him, watching the butter melt before beckoning for him to add the red pepper, onion, and salt to the medley. Seeing his opportunity to steal a kiss, he carefully brought the chopping block over and dumped the contents into the frying pan before placing a quick one on her cheek and retreating behind the middle counter for protection before she could swat him with the spatula she held in her hand
“You better stay over there…if you know what’s good for you. You won’t be so lucky the second time,” she warned him darkly but he could still see a hint of amusement pulling at the frown on her face.
“I’ll take my chances,” he told her honestly, preparing the chicken broth, orange zest, saffron and water, and bay leaf that would be needed once the rice had finished frying.
“So you were saying…about marriage and cooking…” she finally broke the comfortable silence they found themselves in, her attention on the rice pilaf they were making but her interest in his analogies returning.
“Oh yes…I was saying that there are many parallels between cooking and married life. Both require a person who is willing to devote his complete time and attention to the task at hand so he can nurture the final product into fruition.”
“The final product? That sounds very romantic, Charles.”
“You know what I mean, Martha…the wonderful creation whether it’s a delicious dish that was prepared over many hours or a loving relationship that is the result of many years,” he explained, drawing closer to her as he brought the ingredients to her side and a small smile appeared on her lips once more. “However, this cannot be possible without passion and persistence on the part of both parties involved.”
“Now I understand you,” she whispered back, reaching out to squeeze his hand as she looked up into his eyes. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”
“I don’t say it enough,” he told her softly, burying his face in her hair as he wrapped his arms around her and murmured. “Remind me to work on that.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” she returned as she turned around and drew him into a deep passionate kiss before slowly drawing her mouth away to smile at him once more. “We have nothing but time to work this out.”
“That we do…” he agreed and just enjoyed the warmth of his presence and the perfect way her body melded into his, there was no other place he’d rather be. Unfortunately, his sensitive nose brought him back to reality as he realized the rice on the stove had been sitting there a little too long. Reaching over to seize the frying pan in one hand, he opened the oven with the other and placed the dish inside. It needed to bake for 15 more minutes and then it would be ready to serve.
“You know you‘re very cute when you‘re on a mission,” she teased him as she went to set the table.
“Is that so?” he replied, trying to decide what would be perfect for their second side dish
“I don‘t know what it is but this ‘I‘m in charge’ look comes over your face and you get all serious,” she remarked, her eyes twinkling. “It’s quite a turn on.”
Shaking his head in amusement, he decided it was best to not say a word and get out the green beans from the freezer. He knew a simple recipe that only required him to fry them over a medium flame with garlic, butter, and some soy sauce. Simple but effective.
After what seemed like hour but in truth had not been that long, it was time to sit down for their first meal alone together. He almost wanted to take the phone off the hook so they could enjoy this moment in peace. Not that he expected anyone to call but you never know. People seemed to have the worst timing when it came to him and Martha finally spending some quality time with each other. However, they had an answering machine and for once he would just let it pick up any incoming calls. After all, that’s what it was there for.
Opening a nice red wine for both of them, he poured them each a glass and waited for her to try his cooking. He knew she liked the first dish but the others might not be as good. No way to know until she had sampled each one. Carefully filling her fork for his benefit, she sampled the rice pilaf followed by the green beans. Her lips first turned up in a wonderful smile as she let out a moan of pleasure. In fact if he didn’t know better…no, he was just jumping to conclusions
“Charles…this is delicious. I stand corrected…you’re welcome to cook anytime you want.”
“Is that an apology?” he queried, taking a sip of his red wine.
“Let’s just say it’s an invitation.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” he replied and reached over to squeeze her hand once more. “If you didn’t realize it before, this is my way of apologizing for what I’ve put you through these last few years. I know I haven’t been easy to live with.”
“There have been moments,” she conceded, reaching for her wine glass to keep from looking at him.
“And I want that to change…starting now. I‘m prepared to do whatever it takes to make this marriage. I don’t want you to lose you, Marty.”
“And why is that?”
“I just love you too damn much,” he told her abruptly but honestly, his gaze never leaving hers.
“I never doubted it,” she reassured him, knowing it be true as she rediscovered her love once more for the man she had married twenty years ago.
“And you never will,” he promised, kissing her hand and returning her warm smile. “Now what can I do for you, Mrs. Logan?”
“I think some music would be nice…Mr. Logan.”
“What Martha wants…Martha gets.”
And without another word, he had turned on a sentimental jazz melody that filled the kitchen with soft haunting melodies as they enjoyed their first meal together as husband wife instead of President and First Lady. Even after the meal was finished, the romantic mood remained as they put up the dishes and tidied the kitchen, her soft voice gently teasing him as he smiled and responded to her touch.
“You know honey…there was one thing I did forget.”
“Hmm, what was that, Charles?”
“A dessert…we have nothing to finish off this amazing dinner we just had.”
“Oh I think I can fix that,” she informed him, that coy smile playing across her lips once more as she grabbed his tie and pulled him into a kiss filled with promise and passion. “You cooked the main course…the least I can do is provide the dessert.”
“And I think I know just the place to have this dessert as well.”
“You do?”
“Yes, allow me to show you,” he informed her softly, suddenly sweeping her off her feet as she squealed in delight. Without further ado, Charles carried his wife of twenty years out of the kitchen and to their spacious bedroom in the back where he closed the doors securely behind him before enjoying the pleasure of her company.
I know you want me to be supportive of you during this hour of need but I can't help but think of how unsupportive you've been of me...
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-20 02:48 am (UTC)It's a lovely gesture and Merry Christmas :)
Merry Christmas to you too!
Date: 2006-12-20 10:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-20 08:41 am (UTC)Awwww thank you *blushes*
Date: 2006-12-20 10:05 pm (UTC)Re: Awwww thank you *blushes*
Date: 2006-12-20 10:13 pm (UTC)Re: Awwww thank you *blushes*
Date: 2006-12-23 07:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-21 01:08 am (UTC)Sweet!!
Date: 2006-12-21 01:17 am (UTC)