is
going to be so good,” she sang.
“Please stop,” Trenton said. “You’re the most
uncoordinated black woman—no, black person—I know. The only reason
you still have your black card is because I bribed a bunch of folks
during the appeal process so you could keep it.”
“You’re just jealous of my moves. Bet you
can’t do this.” Alannah performed a very awkward moonwalk.
“Michael Jackson is rolling over in his grave
right now.” He shook his head. “Sorry, Michael. I tried to stop
her.”
She stuck out her tongue and returned her
attention to the stove.
Trenton took a seat in one of the high-backed
wood barstools at the breakfast bar, in front of a tall glass of
lemonade, and watched her work. He licked his lips, mouth watering
from the scent of the rib-eye steak.
On occasion a personal chef cooked his meals
whenever he wanted to eat at home and didn’t feel like cooking
himself, and he also had the option of going to his mother’s house
and eating some fine cooking from Adelina. Yet there was something
about Alannah’s food that always tasted that much better and
brought him comfort.
She was much better than she used to be. He
recalled her failed attempt at making bananas foster.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked. She
set a rib eye on a plate in front of him and spooned blue cheese
sauce over it. His stomach danced in anticipation.
“Thinking about the time you almost burned
down the kitchen trying to make bananas foster.”
She swirled the sauce around the plate. “What
a mess. I can’t believe the towel caught fire like that.”
Trenton chuckled. “Be glad it wasn’t
worse.”
She joined him in the laughter, but kept her
eyes on the plate, concentrating on the artistry of the dish. “I am
glad, believe me.”
“Even with that mess and the panic, the
bananas turned out delicious,” he pointed out.
“They did, didn’t they? I should try that
recipe again. I’ve been too nervous to attempt it because of the
near accident.”
“I’m sure your flambé skills will be much
better now.”
Alannah spooned roasted potatoes beside the
steak. “Then, of course, there was The Great Quiche Incident of
’09.”
Trenton groaned.
“I can’t believe you ate so much of it and
didn’t say anything.” Alannah shook her head in disbelief. “I
gagged once I tasted it myself.”
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but
man, that was some nasty stuff.”
“You really took one for the team, and I
appreciate it. Thank goodness for The Best Thai Restaurant.” She
spooned creamed spinach beside the steak and used a paper napkin to
swipe the circumference of the plate for a cleaner look. She
finished by dropping chopped parsley onto the potatoes as a
garnish.
“Oh yeah, that was the first time we ate
there.” With dinner a bust, they’d driven to the restaurant to get
something to eat and had been loyal customers ever since.
Alannah cut into the steak. She twisted it in
the blue cheese sauce and then blew on it. “Tell me what you think
of this.” She lifted the fork to his mouth.
Trenton leaned in, pulled off the meat, and
chewed. Well seasoned and cooked to a perfect medium rare.
Delicious. “Mmm…that’s good.”
She pumped a fist. “Yes! You really like
it?”
“Mhmm.” He yanked away the fork and knife.
She giggled as he cut another piece of meat. “I can’t believe how
good this is.” The creamed spinach and roasted potatoes tasted
perfect, as well. He could have been dining in a fine restaurant.
“This is better than your steak and mushroom gravy.”
“No way. You love that dish. You rave about
it for days every time I make it.”
“I know, you don’t make it enough,” Trenton
said around a mouthful of food, enjoying the dish too much to stop
eating long enough not to talk with his mouth full. He pointed at
the plate with the fork. “But seriously, I’m saying this is even
better, so you know it’s good.”
“Great,” Alannah said with
going to be so good,” she sang.
“Please stop,” Trenton said. “You’re the most
uncoordinated black woman—no, black person—I know. The only reason
you still have your black card is because I bribed a bunch of folks
during the appeal process so you could keep it.”
“You’re just jealous of my moves. Bet you
can’t do this.” Alannah performed a very awkward moonwalk.
“Michael Jackson is rolling over in his grave
right now.” He shook his head. “Sorry, Michael. I tried to stop
her.”
She stuck out her tongue and returned her
attention to the stove.
Trenton took a seat in one of the high-backed
wood barstools at the breakfast bar, in front of a tall glass of
lemonade, and watched her work. He licked his lips, mouth watering
from the scent of the rib-eye steak.
On occasion a personal chef cooked his meals
whenever he wanted to eat at home and didn’t feel like cooking
himself, and he also had the option of going to his mother’s house
and eating some fine cooking from Adelina. Yet there was something
about Alannah’s food that always tasted that much better and
brought him comfort.
She was much better than she used to be. He
recalled her failed attempt at making bananas foster.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked. She
set a rib eye on a plate in front of him and spooned blue cheese
sauce over it. His stomach danced in anticipation.
“Thinking about the time you almost burned
down the kitchen trying to make bananas foster.”
She swirled the sauce around the plate. “What
a mess. I can’t believe the towel caught fire like that.”
Trenton chuckled. “Be glad it wasn’t
worse.”
She joined him in the laughter, but kept her
eyes on the plate, concentrating on the artistry of the dish. “I am
glad, believe me.”
“Even with that mess and the panic, the
bananas turned out delicious,” he pointed out.
“They did, didn’t they? I should try that
recipe again. I’ve been too nervous to attempt it because of the
near accident.”
“I’m sure your flambé skills will be much
better now.”
Alannah spooned roasted potatoes beside the
steak. “Then, of course, there was The Great Quiche Incident of
’09.”
Trenton groaned.
“I can’t believe you ate so much of it and
didn’t say anything.” Alannah shook her head in disbelief. “I
gagged once I tasted it myself.”
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but
man, that was some nasty stuff.”
“You really took one for the team, and I
appreciate it. Thank goodness for The Best Thai Restaurant.” She
spooned creamed spinach beside the steak and used a paper napkin to
swipe the circumference of the plate for a cleaner look. She
finished by dropping chopped parsley onto the potatoes as a
garnish.
“Oh yeah, that was the first time we ate
there.” With dinner a bust, they’d driven to the restaurant to get
something to eat and had been loyal customers ever since.
Alannah cut into the steak. She twisted it in
the blue cheese sauce and then blew on it. “Tell me what you think
of this.” She lifted the fork to his mouth.
Trenton leaned in, pulled off the meat, and
chewed. Well seasoned and cooked to a perfect medium rare.
Delicious. “Mmm…that’s good.”
She pumped a fist. “Yes! You really like
it?”
“Mhmm.” He yanked away the fork and knife.
She giggled as he cut another piece of meat. “I can’t believe how
good this is.” The creamed spinach and roasted potatoes tasted
perfect, as well. He could have been dining in a fine restaurant.
“This is better than your steak and mushroom gravy.”
“No way. You love that dish. You rave about
it for days every time I make it.”
“I know, you don’t make it enough,” Trenton
said around a mouthful of food, enjoying the dish too much to stop
eating long enough not to talk with his mouth full. He pointed at
the plate with the fork. “But seriously, I’m saying this is even
better, so you know it’s good.”
“Great,” Alannah said with
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