Page 7 of Breathless
Later that evening,Chaney went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, frowning at the contents. She was so tired of sandwiches. They were fine for lunch, but not for dinner too. She heard footsteps on the stairs and looked in that direction. “I don’t suppose you know how to cook?”
“Don’t you?” Rawlins inquired carrying his laptop with him.
“No.”
“Then how have you been surviving since you came to live here?” he asked.
“Frozen dinners. Sandwiches.”
He put his laptop on the sofa and came to the island that separated the living space in two. “And before you came to live here?”
“Moni did the cooking when Justus and I roomed with her and our other two roommates in a house near campus,” she explained.
He was quiet for a few moments, he appeared to be studying her huge kitchen. “My God, look at the appliances you have. Ninja blender and air fryer. Kitchen Aid industrial mixer.” He opened the bottom cabinets until he found the cookware and pulled out the expensive stainless Steele and copper bottom frypan. “I’ve seen similar ones in magazine spreads for Martha Stewart and Ina Garner and you tell me you don’t know how to cook?”
“What can I say? My mother likes to have the very best in the kitchen even if we had a cook who did all the cooking,” Chaney replied sounding upset. “She equipped my kitchen with the same as our house in Baltimore.”
“But they are aware you can’t cook?” he asked. “And it’s just sitting here not being used.”
“Of course,” Chaney replied. “But for appearances…if I were to entertain… my mother has to have my kitchen looking like I am the greatest cook.”
He ran his hand around to the back of his neck and stared at her. “I don’t get it. Did your cook never offer to show you how to do anything when you were growing up?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“Once, but my parents caught her and she was almost fired for it,” she said.
He frowned. “Why? Were they desperate to keep you dependent on them for the rest of your life?”
Chaney shrugged. “Welcome to my world.”
“Do you want to learn to cook?” he ventured.
“It would be nice to do more than punch a few buttons on a microwave,” Chaney said. “I don’t want to be forced to eat frozen meals forever.
He nodded. “I’ll help you learn to feed yourself at least. I am no chef, but I can survive. My mother made sure all her children could do basic skills no matter what our gender. Do you do your own laundry at least?”
“Sure. I had to learn that before I left home so I could manage out here,” she said. “My parents had our maid show me. They had no problem with me learning to do that.”
“At least that’s something,” he muttered. “But your parents didn’t think you needed to know how to cook?”
“They believed I would be living in a dorm on campus where I would be eating on a meal plan the whole time I was here,” she said. “I believe they thought it would be for only one year really. I feel they always thought they’d get me back after that to go to another university of their choice. I think that is why they are trying so hard to get me back to Baltimore now.”
“And did they force you to apply elsewhere?”
“No.” Chaney leaned against the island and smiled at him. “But that doesn’t mean they haven’t applied for me, or talked to friends who are on boards of admissions to get me in this coming year if they can get me back. I know they’d love for me to go to Georgetown.”
Rawlins nodded and walked around the island. “Okay. Let’s look and see what there is to work with in your refrigerator.”
“Not much I’m afraid.”
He opened the freezer and examined its sparse contents as well. “Right. Shopping trip tomorrow. For tonight we will have to make do.”
He pulled out the sandwich ingredients and asked her to get out the bread. “Do you have a chopping board?”
Chaney shrugged.
“Go sit down and I’ll fix tonight’s meal.” He searched for what he was looking for and then he washed his hands. He opened the half-used head of lettuce and took out a knife from the drawer and shaved off enough for two servings. Then he built hero style sandwiches complete with thinly sliced onion, pickles, and tomatoes for each of them.
“Do you like mayo, mustard, or both?”
