A Cold Wife, Sweet Husband

―Mrs. Monroe, are you hungry? Jim, the new chef, asked her. ―I could make you a snack to tide you over until dinner. She smiled at the twenty-four-year-old chef.

―I'm fine. I came in here to cook. Mrs. Edwards and Mrs. Tobias just asked me to make three dozen chocolate chip cookies for tomorrow. Tom and Ian Conner just got adopted.

―That's good news. He smiled. ―It certainly is a reason to celebrate. I haven't made those kinds of cookies before. Do you mind if I help you so I can gain the experience? She returned his smile. ―Some help would be greatly appreciated. I usually do these all by myself and get bored with no one to talk to.

―Well, Louis is on a break until it's near dinner time. Constance will most likely pop in here and there. She keeps busy. ―I've noticed that. She opened another cabinet. ―I have to admit that there's a lot of food in this kitchen.

―Mr. Monroe entertains a lot. It's good practice for me. She took out the container of flour, sugar and other ingredients they would need to make the cookies. He wrote down what she was doing. ―I have a horrible memory. I have to write everything down or I'll forget it. ―Do you use index cards to write the recipes down?

He glanced at her. ―No. Louis says that a good chef should be familiar enough with all of his recipes to do it by memory. She set the ingredients at the large rectangular counter in the middle of the kitchen. ―Well, I wouldn't make a good chef then. She pulled out an index card from her apron and set it on the counter.

―I have to refer to this or I'll miss the recipe up. ―Does that work for you? She nodded. ―If you pinned the card to the inside of the hat or inside your apron, you can sneak a peek in from time to time to make sure you're getting things right, and Louis won't catch on. He tapped his pencil on the counter. ―Do you think that would work?

―It did for me when I took the cooking class. He grinned. ―Why, Mrs. Monroe, you have a sneaky streak in you. She chuckled. ―After I nearly gave everyone in my class food poisoning, it was more for their survival than trying to look like I knew what I was doing. ―How do you do now when you make things?

―I manage to make some good meals. But I always have a card on hand. ―Maybe there's hope for me yet. She showed him which ingredients to mix and in what order to mix them. ―I tasted some of your food. You do very well when you know what to do. ―You are very kind to say that. Louis doesn't think so well of me.

―Well, we can't be perfect at something when we start. You're new to this. Louis has been at it for a long time. How old is he? Sixty-five?

―He's only fifty. She looked at him to see if he was kidding but his serious expression assured her that he wasn't. ―Really? Wow. He looks a lot older than he is. She set out two cookie trays and they started rolling the dough into small balls. ―Do you like cooking or is this the only job you could find?

―I love cooking. Before this job, I worked at a factory. I didn't enjoy that at all. I'm fortunate that your husband hired me. No one else was willing to give me a chance. Most people don't want to hire a personal chef who has no experience, and the restaurants would have started me off as a dishwasher.

This way, I not only get experience but I get paid well enough to save up for my restaurant someday. She stopped rolling her cookie ball and looked at him. ―What do you plan to call your restaurant? He shrugged.

―I hadn't thought of a name. ―Do you plan to make certain types of foods? Luigi's is an Italian restaurant.

―I've been thinking of making pizzas. ―I don't often eat those but enjoy them. ―The reason I like pizzas is that it's hard to mess them up. You can also put a wide variety of food on it. ―Do you ever make pizza for Mr. Monroe?

―No. Louis considers pizza to be beneath Mr. Monroe's economic status. ―Well, maybe we can work around that. I am Mr. Monroe's wife. I should have some say in the meals made here. She paused. She hadn't meant to associate herself as Leo's wife.

The way she casually said it was unnerving. She forced aside the observation while she placed the balls of cookie dough on her cookie sheet. Jim followed her actions. They put the trays in the two ovens. Jim set the timer and put it on the counter.

―I have to admit that time does go faster when I have someone to talk to, she stated. ―I don't feel nearly as nervous cooking with you as I do with Louis. I always feel like such a klutz around him. Do you want something to drink? She nodded. He handed her a cup of punch.

―It's something I made up. I wrote down what I did and hid it in my apartment so Louis won't find out that I cheated. She took a sip and was surprised at how good it tasted.

―You have a real talent for this kind of thing. Do you have new recipe ideas for pizzas too? ―A couple. He explained some of his creations.

―We'll have to think of a way to get you to make one sometime. I'd be interested to know what one of those pizzas taste like. If I can base my assumption on this punch, then I know I'm in for a treat. ―Mrs. Monroe, you do have a way of making people feel better about themselves. Mr. Monroe was right about you. You've got a good heart.

―Everyone thinks the world of him, she noted. ―I know the staff and I do. He's a generous and merciful man. To her relief, the timer went off. They pulled their trays out of their ovens. She winked at him. ―It looks like we're going to pull this off on the first try.

―It's easy cooking with you. I haven't knocked anything over. ―If you get nervous around Louis, maybe you should picture him wearing a funny outfit. Sometimes, when I feel anxiety, I try to think of something humorous. It relaxes me. ―I'll try that. They returned to the rest of the cookie dough and continued to make more cookies.