Suzette
I never thought he'd been cheating on me, but honestly, I had no idea why he was spending so much time at work. I didn't give it any thought, sometimes he works long hours, and it wasn't until after my birthday that hindsight kicked in.
It was every week, on Tuesdays, and Thursdays, because he'd been taking night classes, after work. All I know is that I woke up from my nap to the sound of pots, and pans. The kids were gone, spending the night with friends, which just left the 2 of us.
No candle light, no movie, just my husband showing off. Really showing off, he could have cooked anything, and I would have been happy not to have had to cook on my birthday. Instead, he started off by searing a full flank steak, resting it while it was still rare, slicing it on the bias at the perfect temperature so that it didn't bleed out, then searing the rare sections, while the sauce warmed up.
"You didn't learn that from a cooking class." I sat down, without even having to check the sauce pot. I didn't have to, I know this recipe. By heart, ever since I was a little girl, and I learned how to make it myself.
"Well, your mom sure helped." He has been going behind my back, with another woman. To learn how to make Stroganoff, from scratch. Stewing the tomatoes himself, and then I had to gasp a little when he got the pasta roller out of the drawer. The mixing bowl out of the fridge, and started pulling fresh noodles, from scratch.
"Oh, honey. You know that's my favorite."
"Happy birthday, sweetheart." He didn't stop to dust the flour off his hands, and kiss me. He didn't have to, and I've never seen him in an apron before. A flour covered apron, turning on the Kitchenaid after locking in the adapter. Rolling up the do to cut it, and feeding the large coins into the rollers to stretch them out.
I never told him this, that it's not just my favorite. It's what my mom always cooked me, for my birthday. I haven't had it since. "Gosh," I left home, I was 17, so that must be almost 20 years. Over half my life, and my mother could have come here, to cook it for me again.
She didn't have to, so we don't have to worry about her leaving. Instead of staying to talk, for hours, until it's time to pick up the kids. So, it's just the 2 of us, all night, and I can watch my husband. Move around the kitchen, with the familiar smells along with the strangest sight of my Karl in an apron.
So confident, and even skilled, with fresh pasta. I can't believe it, but I'm happy enough just to watch. Then, I decided to get up, take a shower, and get dressed. For him, if he's going to all this trouble, I might as well look nice for my husband, and it will make the time go faster, than sitting there watching him cook.
Even though I can't help feeling like I could just sit there, and watch him cook all night.