Page 73 of Lovestruck at Sundown
“So …” Nina stared at Moira’s hands with a terror-filled gaze. “Have you ever cut yourself?”
“Plenty of times.” She lifted the wooden cutting board, transferred the vegetables to a bowl, and resumed the chopping. “But that’s how you learn. I’ve got a few burn scars, too.” She pulled her sleeve even higher and showed us a reddish scar on her forearm. But it didn’t catch my attention as strongly as thebeautiful art in her tattoo sleeve did.
“Is it like a prerequisite?” Nina started to ask. “To have cool haircuts and badass tattoos to be a chef?”
Moira snorted a laugh. “I guess our line of work allows us to be ourselves since it’s a very relaxed environment. High-paced and very stressful, yes. But relaxed in that it’s not Wall Street or a law firm.”
Nina’s phone vibrated on the counter. “It’s CJ.” She grabbed it and stood. “I’ll take it in the living room. Be right back.” She walked away, and I kept staring at Moira with fascination. William was beyond incredible in his cooking skills, but one could quickly tell Moira was a seasoned, well-trained chef with thousands of hours in the kitchen backing up her technique.
“Did it come as a shock when William dropped out of school to become an actor?” I asked Moira, who was now boiling water in a large pot. “And … do you need any help?”
“No and no.” She pointed at me with a ladle. “You stay put and enjoy the show.” Moira winked at me. “I’m preparing some authentic Korean ramen for you to store for a few days. It’s my grandma’s recipe on my dad’s side. So, if you can, look away occasionally, or she won’t forgive me for cooking this in front of another human being. She can get overprotective of her recipes.”
“I’m the safest person to be around while cooking a secret recipe anyway.”
We laughed.
Moira’s confident energy overflowed the kitchen, but in a refreshing way. It was an interesting contrast to her soft, feminine features. It was like a superpower. As if once in the kitchen, she became an unstoppable force, and she knew it, and it showed.
“But to further answer your question,” she said, “we were very sad and disappointed to see William go. Shocked? No. We knew who his father was, and he would toy around with the ideaof being famous every time he had a few beers. But he was the best in our class. Not gonna lie. Hurts to admit it.” She made an exaggerated sad face. “We were constantly measuring ourselves against each other, competing about stupid stuff like who had the best egg-cracking technique or made the best fish and chips. Shit like that.”
“And?” I loved knowing more about this side of William, a side he rarely shared with me. The “him” before he became “William Sjöberg.”
“He was faster and better at egg cracking, and my beer batter is and will always be superior. But hewasbetter than me—than all of us. But he must be a bit rusty now, I’m sure.” She chuckled, ending it with a long, wistful sigh, the memories of their time together clearly having an impact on her. “That’s what you’re having for dinner tonight. Fish and chips. The best of the best.”
Zara’s favorite food was fish and chips. The idea of inviting her for dinner and trying to talk things through with her invaded my thoughts. This was a perfect opportunity to do so. I wanted nothing more than to be on good terms with her. As annoying as I’d found it in the beginning, I couldn’t wait for her to start calling mesisagain.
So I texted her, hoping she would be available and willing to accept my invitation.
Me:Hey, Zara! Are you free tonight? Wondering if you
would like to stop by for dinner at 6-ish. I would love for us
to talk too.
“Sorry,” I said to Moira. Leaving my phone on the counter. “Tell me more.”
“William doesn’t talk about this period of his life much, does he?”
I shook my head no a few times. “I feel like it hurts him to do so. You know what I mean? He loves cooking, and knowing how he is, a part of him must’ve wanted that recognition of graduating and earning his title. Or maybe wondering what his life would’ve looked like if he had chosen a different path.” I paused for a second to readjust my stool’s height. It was too low, and I wanted to have a better angle to watch Moira cooking. “As I said, we’ve only talked about this a little.”
She lifted her eyebrows mischievously. “Lucky for you, I’ve got all the dirty details.”
“How dirty?” I placed a hand on my chest, feigning apprehension.
“Nah, just kidding.” Moira laughed as she added a few pieces of chicken into the pot to make the ramen broth. She explained everything she was doing as she went.
“I know you’re not.”
She zipped her lips with two fingers and then directed a big, easy smile at me. “No, but in all honesty, I do believe cooking is William’s true passion. Do you know how many times he texts me asking for a photo or a little video of the kitchen I work in? Or to talk about food and recipes?” She remained still and looked at me for a few seconds to allow a reflective silence after her rhetorical question. “Let’s just say I’m impressed you didn’t know of my existence before today.” She didn’t seem bothered about William not mentioning her. It’s as if she had expected him to have buried this side of him, which included her.
Moira’s attention returned to the broth, and my screen lit up with Zara’s reply.
Zara:Hey, Billie. I’m not sure yet. I’m waiting for a friend to confirm if we’re going out or not.
Me:There’s a professional chef at home preparing fish
and chips.
