In the Manner of Edward and Kelly…..

Chapter Two- Life lessons, in and out of the kitchen.

((to read Chapter One, please click here))

He couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

“Come again?” Edward said in disbelief. His boss, Gary, smiled broadly.

“You heard me. Jed has given his notice. We want you to take his place.”

Edward still didn’t believe him; shaking his head back and forth wishing his brain would spit out the truth. Gary stepped over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Look,” he said, his voice dropping. “It wasn’t my idea to pass you up for the position Jed got two years ago, I wanted them to hire you for it. I was overruled. This time, I told them, in no uncertain terms, that you deserved the promotion. And thankfully, it was agreed upon.” Edward felt like he might tear up; he couldn’t wait to call Kelly and tell her. As Gary left he rested his elbows on his desk, his head hanging in his hands as he resisted the urge to shout out loud. Finally, the promotion he’d been dreaming of; more responsibility and a lot more pay. He felt the cold of the desk right through the worn elbows in his shirt; all of them were like that. He took care not to button up the cuffs too long so as not to blow out another sleeve. Kelly was pretty good at sewing up the rips, but there was only so much that could be done. Once she had joked that their life was just like his work shirts; worn out and in need of repair.

But it hadn’t been a joking manner when he realized just how right she had been.

The separation had been hardest on her; clearly she was not at fault for his perception of his life. She was, in all honesty, the only truly bright spot he had at the time, but the struggles had all been internal; and all his own doing. Edward watched his friends, their friends move on in their lives. He watched them buy houses and move away; he watched them earn bigger paychecks. He saw how Kelly eyed her friends clothing, how she cooed over their new babies and enviously fingered the brand new furniture in their comfortable new homes and he felt ashamed. She never said a word, but he knew her; he knew her emotional battles and he knew her heart and her gentle soul. She would never ask for what they didn’t, or couldn’t have. They had vowed for better and for worse; he only wished there was more of the better part of life for them. It was hard being a husband who couldn’t provide, no matter how many times Kelly insisted that it was fine, that she was fine and that he shouldn’t feel the need to shoulder so much. Her job wasn’t so hot either, she pointed out. She repeatedly reminded him that in time, they would move up. In time.

But this!! He pushed his chair back and stood to his feet, reaching for his coat and briefcase. He swept his papers into it and threw the coat over his arm, running down the stairs to the bus stop, paying no attention to the chill wind that swept down the street. April was so fickle, he thought to himself as he bumped along, staring out the window; one day warm and sunny, and the next, a bone chilling wind. A stop at the market was necessary; tonight needed a celebration.

Slinging a basket over his arm, Edward went in search of inspiration. Ramps! He stopped in delight, fingering their rough stalks, taking in the sweet, earthy onion scent. He dropped a bundle in the basket, dreaming of shrimp, clams and ramps in creamy herb sauce. The fresh fish was too expensive; and those frozen ones, yech! A bunch of baby carrots went into the basket alongside several violet-hued turnips and two chiogga beets. He would sear them on the stove and shave the good asiago over those, he thought, his mouth watering. He plucked a handful of thyme from the bin, a few stalks of basil leaves and a thick bunch of parsley, then went in search of fresh linguine.

“Max!” he cried out to the stooped shouldered man behind the deli counter. “Got any of that fresh pasta today?” Max smiled broadly, holding out a gnarled hand to Edward.

“What? You think I’m a ….what you call, a slacker?” He made a fist at Edward in jest, then pointed down the counter where tiny piles of honey toned linguine and verdant fettuccine lay coiled like snakes. “How much you want, eh? How’s that pretty gal of yours?”

“Oh, Max, I got a promotion today and I can’t wait to tell her!” beamed Edward, his eyes shining.

“Ho! Yeah!” shouted Max, his voice booming. Several customers turned around, startled but he paid no attention. “You finally got it! Oh, my boy, that is wonderful! You will be celebrating, no?” Edward nodded.

“What are you cooking, hmmm? Tell me!” Edward tried to keep smiling but his eyes fell.

“I wanted to make seafood pasta with these fresh ramps, but…y’know…” his voice trailed off, embarrassed to tell Max that he couldn’t afford the shrimp and clams. Max clasped his hands on the counter, his eyes warm and kind.

“My friend, your food can make my grandmother turn in her grave. There is love, no? In your food? That is the one ingredient that makes it shine above all others. You love what you cook, and you love to feed your beautiful wife. You take those herbs, ok, that basil and parsley and you wash them good and dry them, then dust them with a little seasoned flour, ok? Make a puddle of that good olive oil, in your pan and cook…..hot! Very hot! Very fast! Then put on paper towel. Do the same to the ramps, ok? Melt some butter, good and hot; make it turn brown like I told you. Make sure you save the pasta water, don’t throw out that starch. Toss the pasta in the brown butter, very hot! Quick! Then add a splash of the grigio, you got grigio, right? More butter and some of the pasta water. Then the thyme. Make a good sauce. Top it with the crispy herbs.” Max pinched three fingers together, pressing them to his lips. “Your lovely lady won’t even miss the fish, ok? And love, oh, its love all over that dish there, my friend.”

Edward smiled again, his heart leaping. Max to the rescue once more.

“Thanks Max, you’re the best!” Max waved off Edwards’ praise. “Naw. I just, y’know…” But he smiled, his thick cheeks turning slightly pink. Edward knew he was touched and pleased. On his way out, he sent a longing glance over the seafood case; the glistening orbs of scallops, rich red sides of salmon and piles of fresh trout. As he walked away, he resolved to pick out the best lot of them with his first good paycheck and cook them both a seafood lover’s feast.

Racing up the stairs, he felt like he had springs in his feet. Pushing open the door, he tossed his coat on the hook and kicked off his shoes, dropping his briefcase with a bang, heading for the kitchen.

“Hold on there!” he called out, seeing Kelly bending over the fridge. She spun around, her eyes bright. “Hi!” she called out. “But I got home first!” Then her eyes dropped to the bag in his hand, and she saw his glowing smile.

“Edward! What’s going on? You look like you just won the lottery!” He laid the bag on the butcher block and swept her up into an embrace, burying his head in her familiar and comforting scent. If he could have twirled her in that tiny, cramped kitchen, he would have done so until they both fell down.

“I got a promotion! Jed is leaving and I am to take over his position!!” he shouted, his eyes shining. Kelly gasped. They clung to each other, laughter pouring from them, and years of disappointment falling away. They weren’t young, but they weren’t old either, and yet, each alone and in their own way, they both felt like there was some place along the path of their life that they should have reached by now, some goal or achievement that always seemed just outside their grasp. Edward felt it intently in their tiny apartment with the old worn furniture that was mismatched and shabby. He saw it in her winter boots that barely had made it through the past few months, the thin spots in his shirts and threadbare towels in their bathroom. And Edward saw it in her, she knew it too. He saw how hard she tried not to stare when she visited yet another friend’s new home; or how she would gaze too long at a new coat or shoes. He saw her lay aside store ads for bedding and pick up the coupons and a scissors. He saw it all, as acutely as he saw his own life, hanging suspended; a silent, repeated spin in the same dreary place, and the way the years seemed to peer out of his face, more edgy and harsh, as he stared in the mirror.

But soon, that was going to change.

Edward unloaded his bounty, relating his story and Max’s instructions to Kelly who set about washing the herbs. He took out the Plugra, and plunged their last bottle of Tocai into the ice bucket, the one bottle he was saving for a special occasion. From the back of the fridge he fished out his pinot grigio, the block of asiago and the remains of some honey butter for the crackling loaf of sourdough he had tossed in his basket at the last minute. Kelly’s eyes lit up as he lay out his plan on the butcher block.

“Plugra! This is a celebration!”

He smiled at her. She deserved the best tonight. He watched her at the sink, her thin arms wet to the elbow, a thick strand of her coarse brown hair falling over her cheek, as she swished the herbs and separated the ramps, dropping them by the handful into the salad spinner, and whizzing them dry. Carefully she snipped off the leaves, laying them out, then she tossed flour, salt, pepper, dry mustard and garlic powder on a plate, dredging the tiny leaves one by one, while Edward dumped handfuls of linguine into the roiling water. She sliced the ramps so thin that he could scarcely believe it. She painstakingly seared off the leaves in her sauté pan, using two forks to bring them, hot and crispy, onto the towel lined plate, and then dropped in the pungent ramps, letting them sputter and leap in the hot oil. The butter sizzled, its aroma filling the kitchen. He placed his measuring cup in the colander to catch some pasta water, and drained away the rest. Kelly watched closely as he dropped the pasta into the browned butter, tiny flecks covering the delicate strands. A few deft twists of the pan and Edward drizzled in the pinot, swirling as he poured. Kelly cut off a few more pats of butter, her lean frame resting against him as she poured in the water and tossed the butter on top, dropping in handfuls of carefully plucked thyme leaves. The carrots, turnips and beets had turned a golden brown in their pan and with a quick twist of her hands, Kelly dropped half a dozen ragged strands of asiago over them, then ground out plenty of aromatic pepper. Edward’s arm brushed against her breast as he reached for the Maldon, and he smiled sideways at her, a slight twinkle in his eye, readily accepting her kiss. The room was warm, humid and filled with the pungent perfume of their meal.

He reached above Kelly’s head and pulled their stemware off the rack, handing her the glasses. A few assured twists of the corkscrew and the rich scent of the wine reached their nostrils, glistening like straw, deep with the scent of fresh pears.

“Next time we make this dish, we will make it right, with lots of shrimp and clams to go with more of this Tocai.” He said, his voice an assured promise. They touched glasses, sipping the delicious gold liquid. He pulled their stools out from the broom closet and they sat down, plates brimming and eyes gleaming.

Edward saw in his mind that the road was now twisting; and the path ahead of them wasn’t clear yet, but somehow he knew it would gain clarity as they moved forward. It couldn’t last forever, this stagnating ride; it simply couldn’t be so tedious for much longer without some altering change. Kelly’s leg swung aimlessly as she twisted her pasta on her fork, her face shining; cheeks bright red in the heat of the room.

“Maybe my turn is next, huh?” she said, her voice optimistic as she glanced up at him, a basil leaf between her fingers. She popped it in her mouth, chewing contemplatively, her eyes distant but happy. Edward watched her smile broaden as she looked back down at her plate, the strands of pasta mingling with browned vegetables. His love for her filled his heart. She was always, always thinking positively.

“Yeah, I’m sure of it.” She said, her hand resting on his knee. They left the dishes and took the rest of the bottle of wine into the bathroom; drawing a steaming bath into their huge claw foot tub. As Kelly eased herself into the hot water, she sighed deeply.

“Let’s make sure we get one of these in whatever new home we find, OK?” She reached for the glass he handed her, leaning back to make room for him. As he slipped in next to her, he felt a profound sense of peace that he had found his way back to her, and to this place, where the warmth of her skin and the passionate sense of belonging were really, when it comes right down to it, the only thing he couldn’t live without.