What's Cooking by Gail Sattler Page B

message on Sunday, she’d expected him to call on Monday, but he hadn’t.
    She took the box of rice back from him. “You didn’t call me yesterday,” she mumbled.
    â€œI had to work late yesterday.”
    â€œI don’t know what it is you do for a living,” she stammered.
    â€œI’m a dispatcher for a commercial carrier. Monday is always a busy day, and the other guy phoned in sick on top of it, so it was nuts in there.” As he spoke, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out. “I bought this for you. It’s not a big deal, but I hope you like it.”
    Carolyn heard a little tinkle.
    â€œHold still,” he muttered. “Let me do this before anyone walks in. I saw the cow stuff in your kitchen, and when I was in the mall today, I saw this. You can’t decorate the high school kitchen with cows, but this little moo-moo can travel with you-you.” She craned her neck and watched as Mitchell pinned a brooch of a small cow, complete with a mini cowbell, onto the bib of her apron.
    â€œThank you, Mitchell. It’s so cute. I don’t know what to say.”
    â€œYou said thank you, and that’s enough.”
    She kept her head lowered and studied the little cow. It was something small and rather silly but very much “Mitchell.” She ran her fingers over the little black and white cow, tinkled the bell, then looked up at him. “Why are you doing this?”
    He smiled and reached to touch her fingers, still resting on the cow in the corner of the bib of her apron. “Why do you think a man buys a gift for a woman?”
    She didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want his gifts, and she didn’t want his attention. It was all wrong. It was flattering when one of her high school students had a crush on her, but those always faded quickly before she had to take steps to deal with it. This, on the other hand, was different. Mitchell was too old to be thought of as merely one of her students, but too young to be taken seriously as a suitor. Not that she could consider Mitchell a suitor, but she didn’t know why he was going to so much trouble to get her attention.
    Footsteps echoed on the tile floor in the hall, and Mitchell backed up, letting his hand drop to his side. He grinned, then winked. “I can’t wait to see what we’re going to make today.”
    Instead of answering, she stood with her mouth open and watched Mitchell walk to the back row and sit without further comment. Last week he had been center front, where she couldn’t help being keenly aware of his presence. She had thought he would do the same this time, but as usual, he never did what she expected. Now that she knew the true scope of his cooking skills, he should have been sitting center front to get the most out of the class.
    When everyone had arrived, she started the lesson. Every time she moved, the tiny cowbell tinkled, reminding her where it came from. Now she didn’t even have to be looking at Mitchell to be reminded of him.
    When it came time to go to the kitchenettes, all the ladies smiled and giggled at his efforts. Carolyn didn’t think Mitchell meant to be amusing, but she had to give him credit for accepting everyone’s teasing about his ineptness in the kitchen with a smile.
    By the time the class ended, even though he’d made progress, he still struggled with most of the basic skills.
    There was only one solution.
    Mitchell Farris needed more remedial help.
    â§
    Mitchell glanced at the different cow decorations all over Carolyn’s kitchen as she paged through one of her many cookbooks. He’d found a message from Carolyn on his answering machine, telling him he still needed more help with his cooking skills. He didn’t know what he’d done so wrong this time, but he was glad for the opportunity it gave him to see her again so soon.
    â€œI know I said I wanted the same squares for