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| Chef Jernard Wells - the Love Chef |
Short Story Entry
Cooking My Way To Her Heart
By Elizabeth Loraine © 2015 all rights reserved
“What is it that
you really want, Aaron?”
I glanced across
the desk to my boss, Chet. How long had he been out of college? Two years?
Since when did a Masters degree give you as much credibility as years of
experience anyway?
The years review
wasn’t going well. This new guy, who came in six months ago, was making changes
and I was going to be one of them, I could feel it. I decided I might as well
step up and not tell him what he expected to hear, but what I really thought.
“I want the
company to be successful. I’m just not sure if it’s going in the right
direction. Instead of bringing people up from within; people who know the
business inside and out and what our customers want and expect; we are bringing
new people in.”
Chet sat back in his chair. “New people, with new, fresh
ideas. Companies like this have a tendency to get stale.” He looked through my
file, glanced back over to me and smiled.
“You’re doing a
good job, keep it up.” He stood and shook my hand.
At the end of the
month I was packing up my things. Six years, and they didn’t even have the
balls to tell me in person? A pink slip in my check….nice.
I thought about
leaving the box of miscellaneous items on my desk. I mean did I really need
that employee of the year award now? Instead I took the walk of shame with it
and tossed into the back seat of the cab I’d called.
I took out my
phone and called my best friend.
“I need a drink,
meet me at the Whiskey Tavern?”
“Sure, when?”
“As soon as you
can get there. I just have to stop at home and drop something off first.”
The cab waited as I threw the box in my storage unit along
with my coat and tie. When I got to the bar, my best friend Liza was already
surrounded by men. She looked gorgeous of course, how could anyone resist that
beautiful face, green eyes, and thick brown locks which cascaded down her back.
Those long legs and perfect curves didn’t disappoint, but it wasn’t the most
attractive thing about her. It was the way she was; thoughtful, fun, hilarious
and smart, but unpretentious, and low maintenance. What other woman could you
call at a moment’s notice and she’d beat you to the bar?
“There you are.
Sorry guys, my dates here.”
She took my arm
and gave me the smile that made my stomach tense. Yeah okay, I had it bad for
her. Who didn’t? She always says she’s not the marrying kind. She likes her
independence.
“What’s going
on?” she said as she slid onto her side of the booth. “You look like someone
stole your glass slipper.”
I had to grin.
“Well it was the last one I had. I got fired, today was my last day.”
Liza frowned, reaching across the table for my hand. I took
it, feeling heat rising from my fingers. It was a good thing it was fairly dark
here, my face felt hot. I always seemed to act like a sixteen year old when we
were alone. Liza on the other hand was relaxed. There was no problem she
couldn’t solve, no situation she couldn’t spin into something tolerable.
“They never
deserved you anyway. You are way too talented of a business man to sit in the
background and wait for some less qualified person to climb up your back.”
“Obviously I’m so
talented that my services are no longer needed.”
The waitress came over and we ordered bourbon. I need to
mention that Liza could drink you under the table, out swear you while telling
you the stats of every quarterback in the NFL. “Actually I am going to take a
little time off before I decide what I want to do.”
“Do you have any
idea what that is?”
I looked deeply
into her eyes. “I want to get married, and start a family.” Liza’s smile dimmed
and she sat back.
“There’s a perfect woman for you. If that’s
what you really want I don’t see any reason why you wouldn’t find her sooner
than later.” She took a big swig of the caramel colored liquor and raised her
glass so the waitress would bring another. “Why don’t you let me make you some
dinner?”
“Why not. I can
drown my sorrows in one of your fabulous sauces.”
“That’s right and
you can help me chop vegetables. It’s relaxing. My mom always said it was the
way to show someone you care. I care. Come on, let’s go.”
It wouldn’t help
to tell her now it was her I wanted, so I canceled her drink and paid the bill.
We headed over to her apartment in SoHo, and I had to admit I felt better
already. I still had her all to myself and I was going to get a home cooked
meal, something most people didn’t get in Manhattan. Everyone either went out,
or ordered in.
Liza tied her hair back and put on a black apron. It was the
one I bought her for her birthday last year. In pink ornate script it said
‘food is love’.
I helped her chop carrots, celery and onion
into a fine dice. She didn’t direct me or scold me because it wasn’t perfect. I
didn’t cut myself; that was a victory in itself. She was right. It was a
relaxing and distracting, and exactly what I needed.
We ate steak and potatoes with the red wine
sauce, which I help make and took full credit for its fabulous flavor.
“So don’t tell
me,” I said as we sat down to watch some TV. “It’s the food channel tonight.”
She grinned and
turned it on. “You might learn something.”
Being with her
was enough. Some nice red wine and the finally of a show called Cutthroat
Kitchen. Actually it was fun and the chef that won was full of personality. He
had the same philosophy as Liza. Making someone a meal was his way of showing
love. The winner; Jernard Wells is even called, ‘The Love Chef’.
When I got home I
looked him up on the internet, he had some cookbooks out, and some sauces
available. Then it hit me. I was out of a job for the moment. I could explore
my options, and this Chef’s cookbook was going to get me started. I ordered a
digital copy and pulled it up on my laptop.
88 Ways To Her Heart was the title, and I was going to make every single
one. I was going to tell Liza how much I loved her with food. This was
something she’d understand.
It was time to
call in the big guns so I picked up the phone. “Mom, can you come for a visit?”
With my mom’s
help I practiced my way through chapters one and two, and then I was on my own
through chapter three starting with the Body-Rocking Baby Bleu Salad and moving
through Wet ‘n Wild Watermelon Salad along with several more salads and soups.
My days were filled with planning and shopping for fresh ingredients, and I
knew why Liza loved it so much. Finally confidence began to fill me as I moved
through main course after main course and onto dessert. In less than a month I
had finished. I’d chosen my menu, the wine, the music and invited my best
friend to dinner.
My heart was
pounding when I got to the door wearing a similar black apron. I took a deep
breath, swallowed hard, wiped my sweaty palms on the apron and opened the door.
Liza smiled broadly. “You look adorable. I brought some
wine.” I froze. She handed me the wine and continued. “Um can I come in? It
smells amazing in here.”
“Oh of course,
sorry. It’s The Love Chef’s menu. I’ve been teaching myself to cook with it. I
wanted to surprise you.”
“Well you sure
did.” Her gaze narrowed and I turned and walked back to the kitchen. I put her wine
in the cooler and poured her a glass of the one I’d picked.
“I know why you
love cooking now, and I chose this menu because I wanted you to know something.
Food is love Liza. I love you. I always have, I always will. I am your
friend, but I want more, much more, I want you to be my wife,” I blurted. I searched her eyes, and they started to well.
I held my breath and my gut twisted.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
