February 9, 2007
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Boo wants to know if he’s a good cook. And I’m starting to feel like this is kiss and tell but I don’t think he’d mind as long as it’s complimentary. I don’t know if you can tell how much I’ve changed my thinking. The real Sam is emerging, and it’s not the bumbling, absentminded professor. He is aggressive. He’s funny, he’s sexual and fairly blunt. So that fits.
When I got over there he was in a great mood. He’d made composed salads with things like beets and mushrooms and a bunch of other vegetables he’d diced with some new kitchen gadget he’d ordered off the TV. Sam is doing Weight Watchers because his doctor suggested he lose weight. He exercises every day but still has a little bit of a tummy. He loves how he feels after he swims, and he’s lost eight pounds since Christmas. The woman he hired, to take care of his wife while he was at work, taught him how to cook low-fat meals. He’d baked acorn squash and cooked a little spinach. Dessert was fruit and tea. You can imagine how thrilled I was to have found a like-minded eater, willing to cook. He assured me he doesn’t cook like that every night, though.
On our way to the grill, through the living room, he suddenly remembered a song he wanted me to hear. He set the plate with the steaks down over on the coffee table and squatted to find the CD. He has as much music as I do. When the song came on he hummed along, exclaiming “Isn’t that just a gorgeous piece of music!” He’d popped back up, still singing, when he suddenly remembered the grill. “Now where did I put those steaks?” he muttered, left hand on his hip, right hand grabbing a fistfull of soft, white hair. He has beautiful hair and he does this thing when he’s thinking. Fingers apart, he pulls strands into his fist and sort of lifts like a hairdresser would. You can’t tell if it’s practiced or unconscious.
Spotting the plate, Sam strode out to his front porch. I think he felt like a new man. Or was it his old self? Spatula in hand, he was manning the grill like he’d stepped back in time. He was picking up where he’d left off but with an exciting new woman. I like the part; it’s a good fit.
Comments (14)
mmm… you are so flowing with it. I love it. What did you think of the song?
Aaawwwww! This is better and you’re way more relaxed than with Rudy.
yup. Romantic comedy alright.
sounds like a good beginning of something….
like I said, “communion.” The sharing of food – and our essential human skills, is how we first gather.
Now who is it that feels like a “new man?” You or him? I know it is a humble attempt at an old Liz Taylor joke about waking up one morning and noticing that she felt so good, in fact “she felt like _ a new man for the morning.! Well, shoot, you get the stupid idea right. You go gal. Darn you can write. You don’t miss a thing – seems like I was there sitting in a corner.
Exactly what vexations said, I feel Like I Am Sitting in the Corner, exactly. You sure do know how to spellbind, sure you don’t want to publish something just like this, because it doesn’t get any better than this. marilyn
definitely a new tone to your musings. really like hearing that you are the “exciting new woman”.
Wonderful. Something seems so right, right from the start. I really like your happy sound. I think I can hear your happy laugh.
Sounds like a wonderful date. Ain’t not much better than a man who cooks!
Nice and yummy. The fitting is getting better here. This had a comfortable tone but not boring or complacent. Still makes a body curious. But I understand too. Feeling a bit weird when things fit better makes sense to me. It’s kind of little gift that you might not want to just dole out to everyone. I am glad you have it though. A griller man. Sweet!
ryc: I meant that specialness of getting to know someone. The tiny little bit of electricity or threads of meaning that really only the two can understand. Those are kind of precious gifts. I don’t know why I feel that. But I remember that feeling of wanting to keep that to myself and with that guy only for a time before I ever dissected it or let it out for others to see. Even if it didn’t go anywhere, that tenuous and tender building of connection between two people is just for them sometimes. I respect that.
I see it in silent smiles when people can’t or don’t want to explain a feeling about a mate. I hope to have that grin again one day myself. But then I will totally tell everyone about it after either bonds are much stronger or they are not of the kind that need special attention I guess. I can’t help it, I love to tell! But oh how I remember loving not to in the beginning as well.
Boy, I miss that.
Long time, no hear! My hubby is a good cook and sometimes we make dinner together.
Frankly, at this time in my life, I hate cooking and I’m glad to have him do it.
Lynn