Sunday, October 8, 2017

To Each His Own




We’re all different. Thank God for that.

We all have different backgrounds, different interests, different strengths, different weaknesses. Some people abhor doing manual labor. Others revel in it. Same can be said for paperwork, dental appointments, opera and more. There is probably nothing that everyone enjoys.

In addition to reading and writing fiction, I like to cook. I’m not a chef, but some recipes seem to draw me in. There was even a point in time when I operated a catering business. During one of those events, I had a brief conversation with a young couple that still kicks around in my memory.  Most of the evening’s food had been consumed and I was checking on the desserts when they approached. He was a big bear of guy, with a wide grin. She was a petite flower, clinging to a glass of wine.

“I want you to teach her how to cook,” he said. She began looking around for a place to hide.

“If she’s not interested in cooking, what makes you think I can teach her anything?” I asked. “Maybe you’re the one who needs to learn how to cook.”

“But cooking is women’s work.”

I pointed out that many of the world’s greatest chefs are male. Furthermore, I was the one who had prepared all the evening’s dishes that he enjoyed. Sheepishly the guy turned away. But his lady threw me a wink and smile. 

So you never know by looking at someone what their interests are. As we age, it’s not uncommon to develop new interests and experiences. It could be rock climbing, biking, skiing, board games or travel.  Different times of year may trigger different interests. Autumn means cooler temperatures, leaves changing colors, kids going back to school and football.  I gotta have football. There's always time for football.  Like this guy here.







Here’s an excerpt from “Vanishing Act” that ties in with different interests. In this scene, Jamie and her best friend Linda, are talking about last night’s New Year’s Eve festivities, where Linda’s blind date was Vincent Schulte, an old friend of Jamie’s.


       Maybe it was because I had known Vince for so long that the image of him being sexy never crossed my mind. Then I remembered how he had looked in his tuxedo last night.
 “I had no idea he could be so romantic,” Linda said quietly. “Dancing all night long was like a slow-motion seduction. And when he kissed me at midnight, I felt like my body was on fire.”
          It was easy to see the impact Vince had had. Linda’s face was flushed and her eyes grew wide at the memory. “I saw that kiss. I never expected that.”
          Linda nodded slowly. “Did you know he speaks Italian? While we were dancing last night, he would pull me close, caress my ear with his lips and whisper to me in Italian.”
          “What did he say?”
     “He would say it in Italian then translate for me. He said ‘Mi ha detto che ero la donna più bella del mondo’ that means that I am the most beautiful woman in the world. By the time I was in the limo, I was melting in his arms.”
          “This is incredible,” I whispered. “You remember the actual words he spoke, in Italian?”
          “Baby, he kept repeating them to me, teaching them to me, so later on he wouldn’t have to explain what they meant,” Linda said, her lashes fluttering with the memory.
          “This is incredible,” I repeated.
Linda squeezed both my hands in hers. “You have no idea. When we got home, there was never any doubt in my mind that we’d make love. I couldn’t wait. But Vince didn’t want to rush things. I think he took an hour to get me out of my dress.”
          “I don’t believe that!”
          Linda lowered her eyes demurely. “Well, maybe it was only five minutes. But he wouldn’t rush. He kept touching me lightly, his fingertips were everywhere.” Linda’s eyes were glazed over as she brought all this back to the forefront of her mind.
          “And you can remember this Italian expression?” I asked, trying to get the conversation back on solid ground.
          She blinked and brought herself back to the present. “Vince kept repeating the words to me, slowly, so I could recite them as well. I may not have them down exactly, but I’ll never forget. It was sexy enough just to hear him speak Italian, but when he told me what the sentence meant, I think it’s embedded into my mind. It was the most romantic night of my life, Jamie.”

This song popped up a couple of times this week. Considering everything that’s been happening lately, it seemed like a perfect track. Here’s the Eagles.




1 comment:

M. S. Spencer said...

I didn't know you'd catered! Met Rose Carole at event in Cocoa Beach--she was professional caterer (& mag editor) & now writes cooking-themed BDSM. Takes all kinds :)
btw love the phrase "clinging to a glass of wine"