Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: In The Kitchen - deadline 7-19-12 @ 9:59 AM NY Time (07/12/12)
TITLE: The Cowboy and the Bride
By Laury Hubrich
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The first night went by like a dream. Grace woke up to breakfast in bed. Lunch went unnoticed. By dinnertime, stomachs growled, and the newlywed tendency to stay in the bedroom all day had lost its glow.
“Gracie, are you getting hungry?” The young man traced a heart on her stomach that growled an answer.
“Mom’s making her killer pizza tonight.”
“Oh. But I thought we’d stay home. Alone. We’ll be back in the real world soon enough.”
They vied for the shower and the sink, still getting to know the other’s routines. Jordan did a quick shave while Grace brushed her teeth, then they switched and Jordan brushed while Grace put on her makeup.
Jordan wiggled around her to spit. “You about finished? What do want to fix for dinner?”
Grace looked at him, her face half painted. “Couldn’t we order in? Maybe Chinese?”
He pulled her away from her the mirror and led her into the kitchen. “Gracie, just look.” He proudly spread his arms out. “Well?”
She looked around and shrugged. “Well what?”
“We have brand new appliances – never been used, well, except for this morning when I made breakfast, of course.”
“I guess they lost their brand new status then, huh?” Grace started to walk out of Jordan’s beloved kitchen.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“I’m calling that Chinese place we like. That’s okay, right?” She batted her eyelashes.
“I guess but, you know, the kitchen’s made for cooking, as in, that’s your job.” Jordan flopped on the couch and gripped the remote, ready for a long night of television viewing.
“Whoa there, Cowboy.” She yanked the remote out of his hand. “What do you mean, ‘my job’? I work too. Who’s to say that cooking’s ‘my job’?”
Grace ran to the kitchen, Jordan right behind her.
“What are you doing with my remote?”
“Your remote, huh? Maybe I should see how well this garbage disposal works.”
“You’re right. It’s our remote.”
“Whatever. Jordan, I don’t care about the stupid remote and honestly, I could care less about the kitchen or its precious appliances.” She smacked the stainless steel sink with her hand.
Jordan used his sleeve to wipe away the smudge she made, then looked at her.
“Pllleease, don’t look so wounded. Did I ever once cook for you when we dated?”
“I saw you in the kitchen lots.”
She sighed. “You know…when I was fifteen, my parents, along with the fire and police department, made me promise to never, ever cook again. Didn’t my parents warn you?”
Jordan’s jaw dropped.
Grace took her finger and closed it up for him. “Jordan, you’re so gullible. I don’t like to cook. That’s all. End of story. We can take turns. You make great breakfast food. When it’s your turn to cook, you do breakfast. When it’s my turn, we’ll order out. Okay? And we have two sets of parents and four sets of grandparents. I’d say that should do us for a while.”
Jordan stood up to his full five-foot-seven inches. “No.”
“I said no. We aren’t going to depend on family like that. We separated from them when we got married, remember? There are some things we have to learn to do. Like, I don’t know how to change oil or keep up on the maintenance on a house. I’m going to have to learn how to do those things.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I do know how to do those things. I was Daddy’s little girl, remember? So here’s the deal. You cook. I’ll take care of everything else. Got it?”
Jordan hopped up on the counter.
“That make you feel taller?”
“That was mean and yes, it does.” Jordan nuzzled Grace’s neck and pulled her up onto his lap. “Hey, we just had our very first fight… in the kitchen.”
“And now we know what it’s good for.” Grace absentmindedly rubbed the smooth granite countertop while she made the Chinese call for takeout. “Jordan, it will be a little bit before dinner comes. There is one thing I want to try out in this kitchen. Come here, Cowboy.”
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