sparse
inhabitants. It was a perfect home for one who wanted to live alone, but Shula
found she liked the idea of not having so many chores. She could keep his home– their home perfectly tidy.
She
opened the refrigerator and stared. Jared didn't need a wife at all. She had
been so used to cooking the same five things for her father, that she wasn't
prepared to see so many fresh fruits and vegetables. Her father had bought
canned vegetables from the grocery store in bulk and she incorporated them into
shepherd's pie, chili, beef stew, spaghetti, and on very rare occasions, roast
beef. Since her mother's death, the garden dwindled, though the summer squash
and cucumber were still going strong. She could make a passable salad with
that.
She
closed the refrigerator and opened the freezer. Full of meat packed in white
butcher's paper. Whole chickens, various packs of different cuts of beef, and
only a few packs of hamburger.
As
far as she knew, her family wasn't poor, but she remembered her mother
complaining of his basic palate. It stood to reason that her own palate would
need some expanding, and she would need to find someone to teach her.
Her
stomach clenched. She didn't want to disappoint her new husband, but she didn't
know how to prepare most of what he had. She didn't think he would abandon her
to his father, but she found she didn't want him to grow tired of her
incompetence.
She
found an empty bowl in the sink and realized that he had prepared his own
breakfast while she slept.
That
wasn't good.
She
would make lunch. She didn't think she could impress him. She went and opened
the refrigerator again. And stared.
She
jumped when the back door opened, and heard his familiar chuckle. “Mornin'
Sleeping Beauty. Did you sleep well?”
She
nodded and moved out of the way when he walked over to get a bottle of water.
“I don't have anything cooked right now, but there's eggs, and stuff for
sandwiches, if you're hungry. Oh, and cereal. That's what I had. I'm slow
smokin' a brisket outside for later, and a good portion of the week if you like
it. You should start smelling it at any time.” He took down half the bottle.
“How's your hand?”
Shula
just stared at him, then looked down at her fingers. “Barely bruised. Um. What
would you like me to make you for lunch?”
Jared
shrugged and looked at her. Scrutinizing. “I hadn't thought about it. I kinda
want to save my appetite, but if you're making you something, I might eat a
bit.”
Shula
looked away. “You'll need to make a list of things you like, so that I know.
I...” She took a deep breath. “I don't know how to prepare–I'll need to learn.”
“Sure.
If it's in the house, I like it. You can watch me until you're ready. What did
you eat when you lived with your father?”
“Quite
a lot of hamburger. Rarely anything else.” She shrugged.
“It
sounds like you'll need to make a list for me. Do you like brisket?”
Shula
felt useless. “I think so. We've had it at church?”
Jared
nodded. “Potatoes, corn, and something sweet?”
Less
useless. “I can bake a cake or maybe some cookies?”
“Sounds
great. If you want, later today, we can do a menu. Add some hamburger dishes
and some new things you'd like to try.” He realized that she might be feeling
her skills were pointless. He tilted his head to the side and motioned to his
left. “Follow me. I've got something to show you.”
To
the left of the bedroom was a door, and Shula had paid it no mind. She assumed
it was a utility closet.
It
wasn't. It was a small office. Books lined several shelves, and there were a
half dozen small televisions across a large desk in various forms of repair.
“These
are computers,” she breathed.
Jared
was retrieving a few books from the shelf, but turned around at her voice. “Oh.
Yes. I like to tinker. I normally use the one out there, but I like to
create...things.” He didn't think she would understand anything technical.
“I
didn't see one out
inhabitants. It was a perfect home for one who wanted to live alone, but Shula
found she liked the idea of not having so many chores. She could keep his home– their home perfectly tidy.
She
opened the refrigerator and stared. Jared didn't need a wife at all. She had
been so used to cooking the same five things for her father, that she wasn't
prepared to see so many fresh fruits and vegetables. Her father had bought
canned vegetables from the grocery store in bulk and she incorporated them into
shepherd's pie, chili, beef stew, spaghetti, and on very rare occasions, roast
beef. Since her mother's death, the garden dwindled, though the summer squash
and cucumber were still going strong. She could make a passable salad with
that.
She
closed the refrigerator and opened the freezer. Full of meat packed in white
butcher's paper. Whole chickens, various packs of different cuts of beef, and
only a few packs of hamburger.
As
far as she knew, her family wasn't poor, but she remembered her mother
complaining of his basic palate. It stood to reason that her own palate would
need some expanding, and she would need to find someone to teach her.
Her
stomach clenched. She didn't want to disappoint her new husband, but she didn't
know how to prepare most of what he had. She didn't think he would abandon her
to his father, but she found she didn't want him to grow tired of her
incompetence.
She
found an empty bowl in the sink and realized that he had prepared his own
breakfast while she slept.
That
wasn't good.
She
would make lunch. She didn't think she could impress him. She went and opened
the refrigerator again. And stared.
She
jumped when the back door opened, and heard his familiar chuckle. “Mornin'
Sleeping Beauty. Did you sleep well?”
She
nodded and moved out of the way when he walked over to get a bottle of water.
“I don't have anything cooked right now, but there's eggs, and stuff for
sandwiches, if you're hungry. Oh, and cereal. That's what I had. I'm slow
smokin' a brisket outside for later, and a good portion of the week if you like
it. You should start smelling it at any time.” He took down half the bottle.
“How's your hand?”
Shula
just stared at him, then looked down at her fingers. “Barely bruised. Um. What
would you like me to make you for lunch?”
Jared
shrugged and looked at her. Scrutinizing. “I hadn't thought about it. I kinda
want to save my appetite, but if you're making you something, I might eat a
bit.”
Shula
looked away. “You'll need to make a list of things you like, so that I know.
I...” She took a deep breath. “I don't know how to prepare–I'll need to learn.”
“Sure.
If it's in the house, I like it. You can watch me until you're ready. What did
you eat when you lived with your father?”
“Quite
a lot of hamburger. Rarely anything else.” She shrugged.
“It
sounds like you'll need to make a list for me. Do you like brisket?”
Shula
felt useless. “I think so. We've had it at church?”
Jared
nodded. “Potatoes, corn, and something sweet?”
Less
useless. “I can bake a cake or maybe some cookies?”
“Sounds
great. If you want, later today, we can do a menu. Add some hamburger dishes
and some new things you'd like to try.” He realized that she might be feeling
her skills were pointless. He tilted his head to the side and motioned to his
left. “Follow me. I've got something to show you.”
To
the left of the bedroom was a door, and Shula had paid it no mind. She assumed
it was a utility closet.
It
wasn't. It was a small office. Books lined several shelves, and there were a
half dozen small televisions across a large desk in various forms of repair.
“These
are computers,” she breathed.
Jared
was retrieving a few books from the shelf, but turned around at her voice. “Oh.
Yes. I like to tinker. I normally use the one out there, but I like to
create...things.” He didn't think she would understand anything technical.
“I
didn't see one out
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