What's Cooking (4 page)

When she couldn't find it, she had assumed Mitchell had put it someplace safe and it would turn up later. It hadn't occurred to her that he'd taken it home last night, along with everything else.

He held it up for her to see. A shiny new piece of glass protected her work.

Her hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh, Mitchell! You shouldn't have!”

He grinned and, without comment, walked to the wall where the nail poked out, barely staying in place. “Where's the hammer?”

Still trying to let what he'd done sink in, Carolyn ran to the kitchen and grabbed her hammer off the pantry shelf. She nearly dropped it when she turned around to see Mitchell standing in the doorway.

“You keep your hammer in the kitchen?”

“So? You keep your electric mixer in the garage.”

He laughed. “Touché.” He removed the hammer from her hands and returned to the living room, proceeded to bang in some kind of plastic doodad, then tapped the nail into the center of it without mishap. This time he'd left the frame on the floor, leaning against the wall. When the nail was securely in place, he balanced and leveled the picture, then stood beside her to admire it. “That sure is a pretty scene. I think I've been there. It's around Tofino, right? Did you do it yourself?”

“Yes, I did.”

The project had taken her nearly a year to complete. She'd had a favorite photograph from her last vacation made into a needlepoint pattern, which she'd worked on diligently. That day had been the first and only time she'd seen a whale in the wild, and she'd managed to get a picture of it at just the right moment. The whale had jumped out of the water and made a big splash upon reentry against the scenic backdrop of a gorgeous bay lined with rocks and trees and seagulls in the misty blue sky overhead. The photograph was beautiful, but adding the texture of needlepoint made it a treasure. Someday, when she married and had children, she would eventually pass her cherished masterpiece on as a family heirloom.

“I don't know what to say.”

Mitchell shrugged his shoulders. “It wasn't a big deal. Jake works for a place that makes windows, so I got him to make a piece that fit. He ended up using a piece out of the scrap bin, so all it cost me was a donut.” He paused and grinned. “Of course I made him buy the coffee.”

“You made him. . .” Her voice trailed off. “You've got to be kidding.”

“It was his break.”

She opened her mouth, but Mitchell quickly spoke up. “None of that sighing stuff. Just smile pretty and say, ‘Thanks, Mitchell.' ”

Carolyn pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her finger. He would never know the restraint it took not to make that deep sigh.

Actually, she rather admired him for being so resourceful, but she wasn't going to admit it.

“Thank you, Mitchell.”

He smirked. “Good. That's what I wanted to hear.”

“I wasn't expecting you today, as you can tell.” Carolyn jerked her head over her shoulder to indicate her vacuum cleaner in the middle of the living room, in addition to the dust rag still on the mantel. “I suppose I could think of something we could do as a cooking lesson.”

“I'm not here for a cooking lesson.”

Carolyn was touched that he would have made the special trip just to deliver her repaired needlepoint frame. In order to be polite, as well as to show her gratitude, she was about to ask him if she could make him a cup of coffee when he reached toward her, picked up one of her hands, then started massaging her wrist with his thumb in the same way he had last night before he left.

Her knees turned to jelly.

“I'm here to take you out for dinner.”

“But—”

“And if you say one word about paying, you'll hurt my feelings, and you wouldn't want to do that, would you?”

“Well, I—”

“So lock up and let's get going so we can get a cozy table for two in a nice, dark corner.”

“But I—”

“There are a few things I'd like to talk to you about, and none of it will have anything to do with cooking because, Carolyn, this is a date.”

Before she could open her mouth to protest, he raised her hand, lowered his head, and kissed her palm. No man had ever done that before, and she froze at the soft touch of his lips on her skin. Carolyn stood with her mouth hanging open and her heart pounding as he smiled at her. She still couldn't imagine why Mitchell was doing this, but this opened up an opportunity to learn more about him—if she could get her brain to function properly.

Carolyn yanked her hand away and backed up a step. She ran her trembling fingers through her hair and straightened her glasses. “Excuse me. I have to change my T-shirt. I'll be right back.”

Carolyn hustled to her bedroom and selected a baggy sweater to go with her jeans, quickly ran a brush through her hair, and returned to the living room, where Mitchell stood gazing at her needlepoint.

When the time came to eat, she would insist on pausing to say grace over their meal. That would tell her how willing he was to show he was a Christian in public.

Still, no matter where he stood in his Christianity, the bottom line was that he wasn't the type of man she saw as a suitable mate. Even though she and Hank didn't have what she could even remotely call a steady relationship, he appeared to be all the things she was looking for in a man. All the things Mitchell was not.

But if she had to have a reason for being with him, she knew Mitchell would make her laugh.

Carolyn sucked in a deep breath for strength. “I'm ready. Let's go.”

Four

Carolyn found herself sitting much too close to Mitchell, which was exactly what she wanted to avoid. She had nixed his suggestion of a quiet, cozy table for two at a small, intimate restaurant. Instead, they'd left his car at the Park and Ride and took the monorail to the crowded and busy public market.

Because of the Saturday crowd, the last available seats in their car were the sideways benches. As more people crammed themselves in, the seating became tighter and tighter until they were pressed together from knee to shoulder.

Carolyn refused to look at Mitchell. Instead, she watched two small children, heads plastered to the window, enjoying the ride. Mitchell barely had to move his head, and she could feel his breath on her cheek as he spoke directly into her ear.

“Those kids appear to be fascinated with the view.”

She didn't know about the kids, but Carolyn didn't often take the monorail, and she found it fascinating.

The children's giggles set off a chord of longing deep inside her. With no marriage prospects in sight, Carolyn was starting to worry she might never have children of her own. She'd spoken with Hank casually a few times about marriage, and even though most men Hank's age were married, Hank had made it clear he wasn't quite ready to settle down. Up until recently she'd been satisfied to wait, but with her birthday coming soon, even though she wasn't going to get married just for the sake of being married, it was another warning that time was not standing still. She was the last of her friends still single, and her biological clock was starting to tick.

When more people exited than entered on the downtown stops, it allowed Carolyn to shuffle a few inches away from Mitchell until they reached their destination.

Throngs of people packed the aisles of the marketplace, which was a three-story building lined with booths and tables with sellers hawking goods from handmade jewelry to farm-fresh produce and everything else in between. The place looked fascinating, and she knew she could spend hours here.

Carolyn tugged on Mitchell's sleeve to get him to bend down so she could speak to him without raising her voice too much. “I can't believe you suggested this.”

He straightened and shrugged his shoulders. “I come here every time I have company from out of town. We make it a day trip and take the monorail because it's so different and there's always neat stuff to see. Since it's Saturday, they'll have some kind of entertainment outside, too. If we'd left earlier, we could have gone to see a movie at the IMAX theater, but we'll only have time to look around here and have something to eat before we have to go home. It would be different if we'd brought my car instead of using the public transport.”

Time flew by as they browsed through the tables and booths and stores.

The aroma of strawberries and fragrant fruit teased Carolyn's nose until they walked past the fish market with its pungent odor of fish and clams. As they continued, the strong smell of the raw fish changed to a delectable mixture of fresh-baked bread and cooking meat and spices, then to the heady bouquet of brewing coffee.

Carolyn didn't need to check her watch. Her stomach told her it was suppertime.

They stepped into the crowded food court. Very few tables were empty, but the area was large and people constantly flowed in and out.

“Pick what you want. My treat.”

Carolyn glanced from one end of the court to the other. “There. The Greek place.”

Mitchell smiled, nodded, and lowered his head to speak softly and still be heard. “A woman after my own heart,” he said in her ear, then straightened and guided her through the crowd.

The only table available was in the center of the crowded area. Mitchell lowered the tray to the table, and they removed their plates and plastic cutlery. “Not exactly a quiet table for two, but it will have to do.”

With her food in front of her, she hesitated. This was it—the moment of truth. They were out in public, and it was time for her to broach the subject of praying in a crowd.

She opened her mouth, but before she had a chance to speak, Mitchell smiled and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “I hope you don't mind, but I always make sure to give thanks to the Lord before I eat, regardless of where I am or who I'm with, which sometimes can be awkward. Since you're a Christian, that does make things easier. Are you okay with that?”

He smiled again, waiting for her reply, but all Carolyn could do was nod. His words and actions pleased her more than they should have.

She lowered her head and folded her hands in her lap as Mitchell said a short prayer of thanks for their meal and their outing, as well as for a safe trip home.

He spoke without looking up as he pushed a tidbit of meat off the skewer with the plastic fork. “The verse you have on the plaque beneath the photograph on your living room wall made me think, so I'm going to add it to my list of favorites.” He popped a French fry into his mouth and smiled.

“Thanks,” she mumbled around the food in her mouth. She didn't want to know his favorite verses. The trouble was, she didn't know what she wanted.

Mitchell popped another piece of meat into his mouth. “I love this stuff,” he said after swallowing. “I especially love that I didn't have to make it. Even though you seem to enjoy cooking, it still must be nice to have someone else do it sometimes.”

She nodded as she pulled a piece from her own skewer. “Yes, it is nice, and you're right. This is too much preparation at the end of a long day to make for one person. I doubt I eat much different than most people, even though I make my living in the kitchen.”

Mitchell froze, then laid his fork down. “Hold on a minute. Before we left, I said we weren't going to talk about cooking.”

She tried to bite back her grin. “You started it, not me.”

“I suppose I did. Sorry.”

At his grin, Carolyn stopped chewing. He really was charming in a boyish sort of way, and it was time again to remind herself not to get too involved with him. She still hadn't figured out why they were together. She was too old for him if he wanted a relationship. It wasn't like men usually sought her, because they didn't. She wasn't pretty, and though she wasn't fat, she was by no means slim. She wasn't glamorous or the life of the party type. She was just. . .ordinary.

Mitchell checked his wristwatch as he popped his last bite of food into his mouth. He took a sip of his drink and put his napkin on the table. “We should probably get going. We have a long ride ahead of us, and we shouldn't be home too late. We both have to get up for church in the morning.”

Carolyn stood. “I just want to pick up a few things back at the farmers' market, then we can go.”

❧

As usual, Mitchell joined Gordie and Roland in the foyer. They swapped stories of the interesting things they'd done all week, then took their seats in the sanctuary.

Instead of continuing to talk until the service started, Mitchell only half-paid attention to the conversation. Jake and Ellen had just entered the sanctuary. They held hands as they walked up the center aisle and separated only long enough to slide into the pew.

In just over a month, his best friend was going to marry his kid sister.

It made Mitchell wonder what it would be like to meet someone with whom he would want to spend the rest of his life.

He wasn't foolish enough to believe in love at first sight, but he sure did like Carolyn. It was sudden, but he wasn't going to let that scare him away. Instead, it intrigued him. In only a few weeks, he already knew she was different from any other woman he'd met—there was something special and right about her, and he wanted to get to know her better. Much better.

The lights dimmed, and the murmur of voices silenced as the worship leader greeted the congregation and invited everyone to stand.

Mitchell turned his attention to the words on the screen, but not before glancing quickly at Jake and Ellen, who were once more holding hands.

Right then, Mitchell knew that was what he wanted. It wasn't to sit with his goofy friends, but to sit quietly and participate in the Sunday worship service with that one special woman with whom he would spend the rest of his life.

He wondered what Carolyn was doing, who she was with, and if she was thinking of him.

❧

At the exact second Carolyn slipped her key into the lock, the phone rang.

She hadn't wanted to invite Hank inside, but with the insistent ringing, she didn't have the time to tell him good-bye without being rude, especially after he'd surprised her and treated her to lunch.

When she ran to catch the phone, Hank followed her inside, closing the door behind him.

“Hello?” she panted into the phone.

“Hi, Carolyn. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Mitchell?” Without thinking why, she covered the mouthpiece with her hand and stared at Hank, who was studying her needlepoint on the wall. The one Mitchell had hung yesterday.

The last thing she wanted right now was to talk to Mitchell. All throughout the church service, she couldn't stop thinking of him.

The pastor had read Psalm 50:1 and 2 as the theme of his sermon. The same verse engraved on the plaque. She glanced over and read it silently. “The Mighty One, God, the
Lord
, speaks and summons the earth from the rising of the sun to the place where it sets. From Zion, perfect in beauty, God shines forth.”

Instead of reflecting on God's glory when the pastor read it, she thought of Mitchell's comment about adding the verse to his list of favorites.

Mitchell Farris was dangerous.

“Carolyn? Are you there?”

She fumbled with the phone. “Oops. Sorry. Yes, I'm here. I just got in the door and had to run to answer the phone. I'm a little out of breath.”

As if Hank could tell she was looking at him, he turned toward her. “Carolyn? Who is it?”

Mitchell's voice immediately replied. “Who was that? Do you have company?”

“Yes, Hank is over. We went out for lunch after church.”

“Oh. Does that mean you have plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

She turned to Hank. He hadn't asked her specifically to do anything, but he hadn't left her at the door when she ran in to catch the phone. But she had the feeling that if she told Mitchell she didn't have plans, he would suddenly show up on her doorstep. The only way to prevent that from happening was to do something with Hank.

“Yes. I think we'll be going out.”

“Oh. I was going to ask if you wanted to join me for dinner tonight.”

She wanted to tell him she'd just been out for dinner with him the day before, except that she wasn't sure if their trip to the marketplace and fast meal in the food court could be counted as dinner. “Sorry, not tonight.”

“Oh.”

The disappointment in his voice was almost her undoing. She didn't know if Hank was ever disappointed when she had other plans.

Good manners and guilt at his disappointment made her reply, “Maybe another time. Good-bye, Mitchell.”

“I'll be sure to take you up on that. Good-bye, Carolyn.”

The way he said her name made her quiver inside, like he was there, standing beside her, talking in her ear, just as he had on the monorail.

Hank's voice behind her nearly made her drop the handset.

“I see you have another picture hanging on your wall.”

She struggled to control her trembling hands as she hung up the phone properly. “It's from my last vacation. Have you ever been to Tofino? I love it there.”

“No, I'm not into wilderness. That's not a place I would ever go.”

Mitchell had been there before. In fact, he'd recognized the bay in the picture. He liked it there, too.

Carolyn squeezed her eyes shut for a second to wipe the thought from her mind, then turned to Hank. “Would you like to do something this afternoon?”

“I was going to invite you to the opening of the new wing at the art gallery.”

She stifled her groan, but barely. “The art gallery?”

“Yes. Since you like scenery so much, I'm sure you'll find a few paintings there to your liking.”

Carolyn glanced back at the silent phone. It was the art gallery or Mitchell Farris.

She turned and smiled at Hank. “Just let me put on shoes more suited for walking, and I'll be right with you.”

“But those shoes look so nice with your dress. And they make you taller.”

She almost snapped that she would change into her jeans and painting T-shirt to match her comfortable shoes but kept her control. “All right. Let's go.”