Read Online Hand-Me-Down Love by Jennifer Ransom - Free Book Online Page B

placed on top of leaf lettuce in white bowls.
Slices of goat cheese finished the salad off. Then Marla realized she
hadn’t made the dressing. Dammit, she thought. I’m not very
organized tonight. The water boiled in the rice pot and she poured
the basmati in, stirring it around, then put the lid back on and
turned the stove down.
    While she was
waiting on the bigger pot to boil, she grabbed her blue mixing bowl
and squeezed in the juice of another lemon. Thankfully, there was
enough olive oil, which Marla drizzled into the lemon juice while
whisking furiously. By that time the water in the big pot was
boiling, and she threw the broccoli in. It was going to be a miracle
if everything came together at the right time, she thought. How did
those fifties housewives do it?
    As she was placing
the salads on the table, Sean came back in.
    “ It’ll be ready
in just a minute,” Marla said, looking up at him.
    “ It smells great,”
he said. “What can I do to help?”
    “ Well, you could
pour us some wine. I think everything else is ready.”
    She put on oven
mitts and removed the chicken roaster from the oven.
    “ You look like
Betty Crocker with that apron on,” Sean said.
    “ Let’s hope this
meal is worthy of Betty Crocker,” Marla replied with a small laugh.
She cut the roast chicken into pieces and put it on a large serving
platter. Then she made plates with buttered rice, broccoli, and
chicken and put them on the table. Finally, she sat down.
    “ Whew!” she
said. “It’s been a while since I cooked a whole meal.”
    The overhead kitchen
light shone brightly on their meal. Marla spooned the citrus
vinaigrette over her salad and handed the bowl to Sean.
    “ Are those pears?”
he said, a little suspiciously.
    “ Yes. Don’t you
like pears?”
    “ I love pears.
I’ve just never seen them in a salad before.”
    “ I hope you like
it,” Marla said.
    They started to eat
their salads.
    “ Do we have any
candles?” Sean asked suddenly. “We need candles. This light is
too bright.”
    “ I’ll get them,”
Marla said getting up. It did not pass her by that Sean had said
“we.” She went to the china cabinet in the living room and took
out two crystal candlesticks that had white tapers in them. She took
them back to the table and set them in the center. “I’ve got some
matches here somewhere,” she said rummaging through the kitchen
catch-all drawer. She found a book of matches from Steamboat Joe’s
and handed them to Sean. He struck a match and lit the candles while
she turned off the overhead light.
    Sean was right. The
candlelight was much more pleasant than the harsh kitchen light. As
they finished their salad and moved on to the main meal, Sean began
to talk about his trip to Atlanta. He told her about staying in his
childhood room where nothing had changed since he left home for
college. He said it was both comforting and weird. His mother made a
full turkey dinner for the Christmas meal and he ate so much he
thought he was going to be sick. Marla told him about visiting her
parents, but she didn’t mention the undecorated tree.
    The conversation
flowed easily between them as they ate the chicken dinner and kept
their wine glasses filled. Sean refilled his plate when he had
finished the first helping. “This is really good,” he said as he
sat back down. “Really good. Thanks for making it.”
    When the meal was
over, Sean picked up their plates and put them in the sink. “How
about some music?” he asked. Marla nodded. “That sounds good,”
she said. He went into the living room and a few minutes later the
sounds of U2 streamed through the apartment. Marla decided to do the
dishes so they wouldn’t be waiting for her in the morning. When she
was finished, she turned off the kitchen light and walked out of the
room. Sean was coming back into the kitchen and they bumped into each
other.
    “ Sorry,” he said
laughing. “Didn’t mean to knock you over.”
    Marla was laughing,
too. The