True believer - Nicholas Sparks [94]
“Not me.”
“So you’re just going to put these big round onions in the sauce?”
“No. I’ll cut them in half first.”
“Can I at least do that?”
“No, thanks. I’d hate to put you out.” She smiled. “And besides, I’m the cook, remember? You just watch and learn. Right now think of yourself as . . . the prep boy.”
He glanced at her. Since they’d come in from the cold, the rosiness in her cheeks had faded, leaving her skin with a fresh, natural glow.
“The prep boy?”
She shrugged. “What can I say? Your mom might have been Italian, but I grew up with a grandmother who tried just about every recipe out there.”
“And that makes you an expert?”
“No, but it made Doris one, and for a long time, I was the prep girl. I learned through osmosis and now it’s your turn.”
He reached for the second onion. “Tell me, then, what’s so special about your recipe? Aside from having onions the size of baseballs, I mean.”
She took the skinned onion and sliced it in half. “Well, since your mother was Italian, I’m sure you’ve heard of San Marzano tomatoes.”
“Of course,” he said. “They’re tomatoes. From San Marzano.”
“Ha, ha,” she said. “Actually, they’re the sweetest and most flavorful of all tomatoes, especially in sauces. Now, watch and learn.”
She pulled out a pot from beneath the stove and set it off to the side, then turned on the gas and lit the fumes under the burner. The blue flame whooshed to life, and she set the empty pot on top of it.
“I’m impressed so far,” he said, finishing the second onion and setting it aside. He picked up his beer and leaned against the counter again. “You should get your own cooking show.”
Ignoring him, she poured both cans of tomatoes into the pot, then added a whole stick of butter to the sauce. Jeremy peeked over her shoulder, watching as the butter began to melt.
“Looks healthy,” he said. “My doctor always told me I needed extra cholesterol in my diet.”
“Did you know you have a tendency toward sarcasm?”
“I’ve heard that,” he said, raising his bottle. “But thanks for noticing.”
“Are you done with the other onion yet?”
“I am the prep boy, aren’t I?” he said, handing it over.
She split that one as well before adding all four halves to the sauce. Stirring for a moment with a long wooden spoon, she let it come to a boil, then set the heat on low.
“Okay, then,” she said, satisfied, returning to the sink, “we’re done for now. It’ll be ready in an hour and a half.”
As she washed her hands, Jeremy peeked into the saucepan, frowning. “That’s it? No garlic? No salt and pepper? No sausage? No meatballs?”
She shook her head. “Three ingredients only. Of course, we’ll pour it over linguine and top it with some fresh-grated Parmesan cheese.”
“This isn’t very Italian.”
“Actually, it is. It’s the way they’ve made it in San Marzano for hundreds of years. That’s in Italy, by the way.” She turned the faucet off, shook her hands over the sink, and dried them on a dish towel. “But since we’ve got some time, I’m going to clean up before dinner,” she said. “Which means you’ll be on your own for a bit.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure out something.”
“If you’d like, you can take a shower,” she said. “I’ll set some towels out for you.”
Still feeling the salt on his neck and arms, it took only an instant for him to agree. “Thanks. That would be great.”
“Give me just a minute to set things up for you, okay?”
She smiled and grabbed her beer as she squeezed past him, feeling his eyes on her hips. She wondered whether he was feeling as self-conscious as she was.
At the end of the hall, she opened the closet door, grabbed a couple of towels, and put them on his bed. Beneath the sink in his bathroom were asssorted shampoos and a new bar of soap, and she set those out as well. As she did, she caught a reflection of herself in the mirror and had the sudden image of Jeremy wrapped in a towel after showering. The image made something jump inside. She drew a long breath, feeling like a teenager again.
“Hello?” she heard him call. “Where are you?”
“I’m in the bathroom,” she answered, amazed by how calm her voice sounded.