"It's literally my favorite dish in the world. Well, maybe after chicken saltimbocca."
"Sounds fancy. I only recognized the first word of that dish."
"It's just chicken cooked sous vide with some prosciutto inside."
"You'll have to make it for me sometime."
I blinked. "Do they sell prosciutto at the Farm and Fleet?"
"They might have it at Metcalfe's."
"Where's that?"
"Just a few miles north of the library. You have to go to the West Town Mall for that."
I blinked. "Okay. Maybe we'll make that trip out this week."
"Yeah." He rubbed his cheek. "So, let's eat."
I cut it open. I ate my chicken parmigiana. It was so salty and delicious. Someone had taught him to cook and cook very well.
"How on Earth did you learn how to cook this? It's not that easy to get right."
"Ah, my mom is part Italian. We don't speak it or anything, but I did grow up eating a lot of pasta. I can cook a lot of dishes, and I’m not bad at it.“
I looked at his body. "It doesn't show. You're pure muscle." Then I blushed. I wasn't here to ogle his body. I was here to placate my dad before he cut me off.
He smiled lazily. "Thanks. You're pretty fit, yourself."
"I go rowing in the Potomac. It's good for inspiration. So many people around. So many things going on. I go even in the winter, when the water is cold. It's good." I ate more spaghetti and swallowed. "There's so much stuff. I don't know. When it comes to stuff around here, it's all nature. Even in DC, the Potomac isn't really all that woodsy, you know? It's just there. You can see cars from it. But out here, it's so quiet and peaceful. I was outraged that my cellphone didn't work at first."
"I noticed."
I smiled at him. "But now I'm sort of glad that I'm here. It's nice to unplug a little bit and read books as well as paint. It's been a lovely vacation so far. Thank you for cooking for me and taking such good care of me. I really appreciate all that you do.“
He looked me right in the eye. "It's my pleasure."
I saw that he really meant that. I could see the pure sincerity in his eyes. It felt good to have someone take care of me. I definitely loved my father, but he was not all that domestic. Something about growing up out here in the boonies made you self-sufficient, and I liked that. Not enough to stay, but definitely enough to think that I should take some cooking classes once I got home. It wasn't a big thing to cook for yourself, but it was a step forward from living off of restaurant meals. Our current housekeeper didn’t cook at all. Daddy said that eating from restaurants was cheaper than hiring a full-time chef. I'd looked at his numbers and agreed with him.
We both finished our food. As I collected our plates, he wiped his mouth with one of the checkered cloth napkins and stood up.
"I've got to go check on things in the barn, but I won't be in too late. Are you going to be down here?"
"Yeah, definitely for a while. There are enough library books to keep me occupied for the next week, if not the next month. I'll be by the fire."
"Okay, I'll get that started for you, then." He walked over to the fireplace, and I heard the soft thunks as he poked the fire with the poker.
"You should be set." He walked back, and he went to take care of whatever it was in the barn.
I washed the dishes, then I went upstairs to take a shower. I hadn't taken one since I got here.
Shower
Amelia
G etting regular Brazilian blowouts made me a little bit nervous about water, and I tied my hair up so that it wouldn't get too wet.
I stepped into the hot spray of water. Something inside of me loosened up. I soaped up, and I rinsed the soap off of my body. Somehow, I did feel like new person. Not a completely new person. Just more me. Without the demands of my friends, father, and DC, I was the essence of myself more than anything. Out here, where no one could see, I wasn't a girl who practically lived in a mall, burning up Daddy’s plastic. I was an artist, and a big reader, and I was falling