A Table for Two (6 page)

"I didn't know there was more than one kind." Ridley discovered she enjoyed having Dana's attention. Everything that came out of Dana's mouth fascinated her to no end and she wanted to know everything there was to know about this captivating woman even if it meant learning about every type of papaya on the face of the earth.

Dana broke the connection with Ridley and turned to Laurie. "What about you, Laurie. What did you have?"

"I had the Chilean sea bass. It was really fresh and the sauce was the best sauce I've ever had with fish. Not everyone can cook fish just right but this was flaky and tender. Everything was amazing--the asparagus, the potatoes, all of it. And it all went together."

"Thank you so much. I bought the fish this morning and it was very fresh." Dana pulled the empty chair away from the table and sat next to Ridley. "I'm glad you liked the lasagna."

Ridley got lost in Dana's eyes all over again. "You're an amazing chef." That was all she could come up with. She wanted to say just the right thing. She wanted to sound interesting and intelligent and irresistible, but nothing dazzling came to mind.

Dana saved Ridley by taking over their conversation. "I've loved cooking ever since I can remember. My mother's an accomplished cook and she taught me a lot." Dana paused and smiled as if she'd remembered something amusing from her past. "I think my Mom's classes were tougher than the ones I took in culinary school."

"I know what you mean," Ridley replied, thinking that Dana's smile would melt chocolate. "My mother loves to cook and she has tried to teach me how and I do mean tried
.
She has a rather extensive collection of cookbooks."

"So does my mother. She has tons of them. Have you ever read a cookbook, I mean aside from the recipes? Some of them are loaded with information about the history and culture of a country or a particular region within a country. You can learn a lot." This time Dana's expression hinted of an underlying shyness. "I guess that tells you something about me."

"It tells me you like to read about travel and food, but I confess, I've never read a cookbook in that way. I barely read any recipes," Ridley said between delectable bites of her pineapple upside down cake. "By the way, this cake is beyond description."

"I'll tell Tracy you said so. Do you do any cooking at all?"

"I can put together a basic meal and grill or roast a thing or two, but that's about the extent of it. I'm much better at eating than I am at cooking. You have a real gift, though. Everything we had tonight was delicious and I love your restaurant. It's so intimate and romantic." Ridley felt her face grow hot. Why did she have to use those words to describe it? With relief, she realized that Dana didn't appear to have any reaction to her choice of words. In fact, she appeared to be more than pleased with the description.

"I'm glad you think so. I put my heart and soul into it."

"I've never known a chef or anyone who owned a restaurant. I'd be fascinated to know what goes on behind the scenes."

"Would you like to come over sometime and see how we do it?" Dana asked.

"Sure. Yes, I would," Ridley answered right away. "I'd love to."

"Are you free a week from tomorrow? We're only open for brunch on Sundays so that would be a good day for you to come over. I'd have more time to talk to you."

"I'm totally free. I mean I don't have any plans on that day." Ridley didn't want to sound overly eager or make Dana think she had nothing to do. She felt so thrown off balance, she had to remind herself to stop blurting things out and to think before she spoke. She had to sound less excited. "What time would you like me to come over?"

"Around one-thirty would be good. We should be winding down by then."

"That's fine with me. Should I just come into the restaurant?"

Dana nodded. "I'll tell the hostess I'm expecting you."

"I can't wait--I mean, that sounds like fun," Ridley said.

ALTHOUGH IT FELT like it dragged on forever, the first full week of school finally ground to a halt. On Sunday afternoon, Ridley pulled up outside Café De Marco earlier than scheduled. Once again, she didn't want to appear too eager, so she parked on the street next to the side of the building and waited for fifteen minutes until the dashboard clock read thirty-five minutes past one. Only then did she allow herself to go inside the restaurant.

As Dana had promised, the hostess was expecting her and without delay, she led the way through the dining room and then through a set of double doors into the kitchen. Once inside, she asked Ridley to stand out of the way while she let Dana know she was there.

Ridley had no trouble finding Dana amidst the flurry of kitchen activities. She stood out in her starched white chef's jacket, a pair of baggy black and white checkered pants and black clogs. With each passing day, Ridley had begun to wonder whether she'd been unduly impressed that night she'd first met Dana. A handful of factors could have altered her initial assessment--one glass of wine too many, the excitement of an evening out with friends or even the subdued lighting playing tricks on her senses. But now, with Dana in plain view and cast in the light of day, she realized she hadn't embellished a thing. In fact, Dana was more beautiful and more attractive than she'd even remembered.

While the hostess whispered in Dana's ear, Ridley waited near the door and when Dana turned and dissolved her with her smile, she beamed with delight.

Dana hurried over to her. "Hi. You're here."

"I've been looking forward to this all week," Ridley readily confessed in spite of her resolve to come off as cool and reserved.

"And we've been looking forward to having you," Dana said. Her eyes roamed over Ridley before they settled on her silver bracelet with turquoise stones. "I love your bracelet. Where did you get it?"

Ridley lifted her wrist to afford Dana a closer inspection. "I bought it while I was on vacation in New Mexico a couple of years ago."

"I've never been there. How was it?"

"It was beautiful. The weather was perfect and this may sound strange, but it smelled better than any place I've ever been to. I forgot the names of all of them, but they have these shrubs and trees that fill the air with the most wonderful fragrances. A friend and I went to Albuquerque, Santa Fe, Taos and a few other places in between."

"That sounds like a nice trip. Do you like Mexican food?"

"I love it as long as it isn't too God-awful hot."

"How hot is too hot for you?" Dana asked.

"I don't like to have numb lips and I don't like to have my mouth on fire for a couple of hours. I like it when it just reaches the center of my ears. No hotter than that." Today, Dana's eyes were almost black and the light streaming in from the window brought out the natural sheen of her hair. Ridley's breathing increased as she thought about running her hands through it. "You look busy today."

"Welcome to a restaurant kitchen." Dana said. "We're always busy, but this isn't as bad as usual. Come with me. I want you to meet my sous-chef, Tracy Mathis. She made the desserts you guys had at dinner and the food, too, of course." Dana held Ridley by the arm and led her to the other side of the kitchen.

"Tracy, Ridley's here."

"Ridley Kelsen, nice to meet you," Tracy greeted her. After she wiped her hands on a red dishtowel tucked into the waistband of her pants, Tracy shook Ridley's hand. Her white jacket was the same as Dana's, but her pants were covered in a colorful red and green chili pepper print. She was tall and thin and short tufts of poker-straight brown hair jutted out from a bandana tied around her head, a bandana made of the same chili pepper print as the pants she wore.

"Nice to meet you, too," Ridley said. Ridley noticed that a section of Tracy's hair in the front had been turned white from an accidental dusting of flour or powdered sugar.

"I'm sorry I didn't have time to come out and talk to you guys when you came for dinner on Saturday," Tracy said. "I was too damn busy to leave the kitchen."

"Don't worry about it." An unwelcomed realization ripped its way through Ridley's mind and sent her insides into a knot. This very cute and clearly gay woman must be Dana's girlfriend. How could she have been stupid enough to assume Dana was unattached in the first place? It would be rare for a woman as fine as she was to be single unless it was someone who preferred to play the field and had no interest in settling down with anyone.

"I thought if I stayed in here, Dana would have more time with her friends."

"What on earth does a sous-chef do?" Ridley asked Tracy.

"I supervise the kitchen staff and the daily food preparation. I guess you could call me Dana's right hand woman." Tracy's eyes connected with Dana's and they shared the type of glance shared by two people who knew each other well and cared for each other.

"She sure is, in more ways than one," Dana said.

"How long have you two known each other?"

Ridley asked. The fondness between them was palpable and seeing the way they interacted with each other convinced her that they were more than just friends.

"A long time," Dana answered. "We met in college."

"Is that where you both studied the culinary arts?

"Yes," Dana said. "You don't need a formal education to open your own restaurant or to call yourself a chef--something I think is all too obvious when you eat in some places, by the way."

"Boy, you're right about that," Tracy said. "We both thought it was important to learn all the classic cooking techniques. It comes in handy if you want to work in a really good restaurant."

"Or have a really good restaurant," Dana added.

Ridley watched the interchange between the two women with interest. The more Dana talked about being a chef, the more her face brightened and the more exhilarated she became. Her eyes sparkled, her skin glowed and her chef's hat sat on her head at a jaunty angle. Ridley found her enthusiasm quite contagious.

"Tracy's right," Dana said. That education made me a much better chef and learning about restaurant management helped me so much when it came to opening this restaurant."

"I absolutely agree," Tracy said. "And I'm glad I got certified as a pastry chef, too."

Ridley wagged her index finger at Tracy. "That's a wicked thing to be certified in. The pineapple upside down cake I had on Saturday was out of this world." It was easy to see how happy her compliment made Tracy. Her face said it all.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I wanted to put a new spin on an old homey dessert."

"You should try her other desserts." Dana patted Tracy on the back, her face brimming with pride.

"Every one of them is to die for."

"I'll bet, but what a way to go," Ridley said.

"Death by dessert," Tracy replied. "That's always been my philosophy. You know, life is short, eat dessert first and all that."

"I basically agree with that philosophy, although I try not to indulge too often for the sake of my waistline," Ridley said.

"You don't look like you have a problem with that," Dana said.

"Not so far, but I'd like to keep it that way," Ridley said before steering the conversation in another direction. "Owning a restaurant has to be hard work. I don't know if I could do it."

"It can take over your whole life if you let it," Dana said. "Tracy and I decided we weren't willing to sacrifice everything for this. We're both able to run this place without the other one having to be here if either of us needs to take time off."

Tracy added, "We only serve dinner Tuesday through Saturday and on Sundays, we only do brunch. After brunch is over, we're closed for the rest of the day and we don't stay here and do work either. We really take the evening off."

"We're closed on Mondays," Dana added. "And I don't come down here at all unless I need something from the kitchen."

"Dana's the best boss," Tracy interjected. "I admire her as a chef and for the way she runs her restaurant. Everything we serve is top quality and she cares about what she puts in front of the customers from the soup to the nuts, so to speak."

"I feel strongly that every part of the meal has to be excellent," Dana said. "I won't have it any other way. I hate when a restaurant serves a good main course but has bad side dishes or when they put little or no effort into their salads and desserts."

"Even our bread is the best around," Tracy added.

"And Dana's nice to work for. She gets excited sometimes but it doesn't make her irritable or mean. She's nice to everyone."

Dana put her arm around Tracy and drew her in for a side hug. "You're not so bad yourself, you know. How could I do all this without you?"

"Speaking of which...," Tracy said, addressing Ridley. "I'd better get back to work. I hope I see you again, sometime soon."

"Yeah, me too," Ridley said. "It was nice talking to you."

Dana grabbed Ridley's wrist. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the others."

AFTER THE INTRODUCTIONS and a brief tour of the kitchen, Dana left Ridley perched on a stool to observe as she and the other chefs plated their culinary creations in a controlled frenzy of practiced synchronicity. Like twin conductors who had memorized every note of the music and knew every nuance of the melody, Dana and Tracy orchestrated everything that went on in the kitchen and every now and then, one of them handed Ridley a small plate with a sample sized portion of one of the dishes. She tasted puffy apple French toast drizzled with a cinnamon infused cranberry syrup, a small serving of moist and creamy scrambled eggs garnished with herbs and goat cheese and accompanied by the most delicious hash browns she'd ever eaten.

"No more after this," Ridley said when Dana handed her a small pecan pancake topped with hot maple syrup and a pinch of orange zest. "Everything is delicious and I want to try it all, but I'm afraid I can't eat anymore."

"That means you'll have to come again," Dana said.

"I'd love to. The food is fantastic, but I'd come here just for the smells." The kitchen was permeated with the most wonderful sweet and savory aromas and every one of them made Ridley's mouth water. She could identify onions, garlic and peppers sautéing in butter and the salty smokiness of bacon. Now and then, little scented pockets of air floated by her carrying spicy scents like rosemary, thyme and nutmeg or sweet smells like apples caramelizing in brown sugar and butter. No matter what smells drifted by Ridley's nose, the essence of lemons, oranges and cinnamon were always present and she wondered if they'd become permanently imbedded in the kitchen's walls and counters.