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Authors: Lyn Ellerbe

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“I know, I know,” Jake said.
“She
’s scheduled to move right after
graduation, so we need to work fast!”

Perplexing
Pasta

Rori purposefully slipped
into class right before starting time
.
Being late would bring unwanted attention but she did not want to risk being
alone with Marcus before class either. She had not returned to the studio after
lunch at the Hamptons, but instead had stopped by the church to talk to the
assistant pastor. 

Reverend
Samuel Collins had been on the retreat where Rori had
first gotten to know Jake and Carla well, and he thought this lovely young lady
was a delight. To see her so distressed concerned him. 

“I’ve never had anyone take
me in dislike so quickly,” Rori shared with the young pastor. “I know it
shouldn’t surprise me, and in the long run shouldn’t really matter, but am I
doing something wrong
? I don’t want to
irritate the man to the point of frustration.”

“Why shouldn’t it surprise
you that someone might dislike you?”
Her
statement confused Sam. He couldn’t imagine anyone disliking Rori Sinclair. She
was one of the friendliest and most lighthearted people he knew. Of course, he
knew that the carefree attitude could be a defense mechanism. He would address
this later if he needed to.

N
ot wanting to delve into a painful memory from her
past, she tried to downplay her comment. Rori became quiet, feelings from high
school flooding in. Sam noticed her hesitation, though.

“I’m so unruly and messy
compared to him,” Rori said, choosing to stick with to current problem.

“I think there’s more to it,
Rori,” Sam pressed. “If you are really concerned about dealing with Marcus
MacRae, you’re going to need to be completely honest with me, and with
yourself.”

“There was a guy in high
school that treated me pretty badly,” Rori did not want to dwell on the
incident so summarized it, hoping to convey that she had dealt with it and
moved on. “I was a wreck for a few months, but he actually met with me and my
parents a couple years later and apologized
.
I think I had pretty much forgotten about it until this week. Even though I am
over it, I know it made me leery where guys are involved.”

“I see how that could affect
your perception of Chef
MacRae’s attitude
towards you,” the pastor agreed. “Tell me a little more about your interaction
with him.”

“Are you by chance attracted
to this man?”
Sam asked after listening
attentively to her take on the situation. He had suspicions about what was
really going on, both on Rori’s part and probably also on Chef MacRae’s side.

She
was not at all prepared
for
the question.

“What does
the fact that he is good-looking have to do with
anything
?!
” she asked, a tad defensively.

“So you do find him
attractive?”
The young pastor asked,
barely hiding a smile.


I didn’t say that,” Rori protested, albeit a bit lamely.
“Even if I did, I still don’t see what that has to do with anything.” She was
not willing to admit outright how Marcus made her feel.

“Well,” the young pastor
continued
. “I think we talk so much about
the dangers of infatuation that we forget that God created physical attraction,
too. While it is dangerous, and I’d even say very dangerous, to base a
relationship solely or primarily on physical features, many of us would have
never found the one God had for us if they hadn’t ‘turned our heads’ so to speak
the first time we met them.”

Aurora sat in silence,
struggling to adjust her thinking. This was out of left field, she thought, and
I don’t even like baseball, her silliness snuck in.

“Did you stop to think that
it was not coincidence that you took his class?” Sam asked. “I’m not saying God
has grave plans for you to reform this hardened, bitter man, but I hear
confusion as well as frustration in your voice. I think you actually like this
man, despite his harshness toward you.”

“But he hates me,” Rori blurted.

“I doubt that,” Pastor
Collins cautioned her. “But even if he did, it doesn’t change the fact that God
placed you in his class for a reason. You’ll need to determine what that reason
is. Maybe it’s to teach him to be more patient, or to teach you that there are
going to be unpleasant people in your life.”

Not sure which theory she
liked best – she was the problem or Marcus was
. Either she needed to be nice to him because God was teaching her
patience, or Marcus was the one with the problem and her presence in his class
was meant
to irritate him into showing patience himself.

“Or,” Pastor broke into her
thoughts, “It could be like I said before, an attraction that you will have to
determine is either infatuation or something deeper.”

That theory
is pure nonsense, Rori thought. She tried to ignore
her heartbeat’s response to the idea.


Either way, I will be praying for you, starting now.”
The young pastor, himself a newlywed, took her hands and prayed, “Father,
please guide this lovely young lady in the path you have for her. I know she is
confused and unsure of her feelings towards this man, but you are not a God of
confusion. Help her seek
Your
will and make Your path
clear to her. Amen.”

“Thanks,
Sam,” Rori stood and shook out her long jeans skirt.
“I promise to spend some time in prayer before class, examining my attitude. I
appreciate you letting me talk through this. Despite the teacher, I am really
enjoying the class, and maybe I’ll learn enough to make you and Ruthie a
gourmet meal.”

“Sounds delicious,”
Sam walked her to the door. “What’s the topic tonight?”

“Pasta,” Rori shuddered
. “Yikes.”

“Yum,”
Sam laughed.

Jake
smoothly took over the teaching duties that evening.
He was correct in his assessment of his superior pasta skills, although Marcus
would never admit it.

Mastering the delicacy of
working the dough was difficult for
several
of the students, but for some reason Rori caught on immediately. Perhaps it was
her artist’s control of her hands, or more likely the lack of pressure from having
Marcus ready to pounce on her every misstep.

“Very nice, Rori,” Jake
praised her. “Are you sure you’re not part Italian?”

“You’re so right,” Rori
admittedly mischievously. “What gave it away? Was it my long blond hair or the
blue eyes?”

Marcus cringed at the sound
of his friend’s laughter
. He knew without
turning around that Jake was working at Jess and Rori’s table right now. This
was what he wanted for tonight, so why did the good-natured camaraderie irk him
so much? He would have been even more upset had he overheard their conversation.

“So, you and Marcus are best
buddies, I see,” Jake teased her.

“Not sure that’s what I’d
call it,” she answered wryly. “We just seem to be destined to annoy each other.”

“You guys are as different
as night and day in some ways,” Jake said, “but bizarrely similar in others.”

“No way,” Rori laughed.
“Like how?”

“You both have the same
sense of humor,” Jake told her.

“Marcus has a sense of humor
?!
” she asked incredulously.

“Exactly.”
Jake laughed loudly, eliciting a glare from across
the room. He returned to his instructor duties with a grin on his face,
convinced that his friend should pursue this delightful young lady. It would do
Marcus good to have someone shake up his ordered world.

He and Jake had prepared
several sauces for the class to choose from for their pastas
. The skill of making, rolling, and shaping the pastas
would fill the two-hour class time, so they opted to do the sauces and filings
themselves. Only two of the groups were doing filled pastas, so Jake had shown
them individually how to prepare simple and quick fillings. Of course, Jess had
chosen a filled version for the challenge, giving Jake more time with Aurora.

Marcus finished up with his
last group and the
n returned to his
station to insure the sauces were ready. The pasta would cook quickly, so he
was waiting until everyone had ample time for instruction and feedback.


Okay, class,” Jake rejoined Marcus in the center of
the lab, “If your water is boiling sufficiently, go
ahead
and drop in your pasta. Fresh pasta cooks very quickly, so keep an eye on it,
paying attention to the details we gave you.”

“How you
doin
’?”
Jake turned
to Marcus using his best New Jersey shore accent.

Marcus just growled at him.

“Down, boy,” his friend
laughed. “So this little ‘ignore it and it will go away’ experiment - not so
successful, huh?”

“You seemed to be enjoying
it,” Marcus glowered at
him, his jealousy
giving a critical, almost accusatory, tone to his words.

“If this weren’t so funny,
I’d knock you out for that one, buddy,” Jake was exasperated with
Marcus. “You have a distinct green hue about your
entire being right now. Perhaps you need to see a doctor.” He walked away from
Marcus before he said anything he would regret later. He remembered how it felt
when he first met Carla and how totally ticked off he became at the charming
fraternity boy that hung around her all the time. That is, until he found out
frat boy was her cousin.

“A
ll right class,” the visiting chef called for their
attention. “Most of your pastas should be done. Get them out of the pot and
ready to serve. It smells delicious in here!”

The dishes were in fact very
delicious
. Rori was so proud of herself
for having conquered the difficult skill that she resolved
to
not let
the ill-mannered chef affect her mood. I can survive this,
especially if the benefits include eating like this every night.

-------------------------

It was an irresistible
addiction. She sat in front of the computer screen vowing not to reach out to
her nemesis, but it was if her fingers had a mind of their own. She chuckled to
herself and made a mental note to sketch her hand with faces on each of her
fingers.

Dear
Chef Charming

No, better not
go there. She backspaced to erase her secret nickname.

Dear Chef: Could you settle
an argument, well not really an
argument,
more of a disagreement... no really it was just a discussion… Is all Italian
food the same or is there a difference in regions? I thought I remembered
hearing about two regions…North and south, or east and west… not sure, but
John, Calvin, and I were talking about it and they think I’m crazy. Jess
wouldn’t settle it for us, because, well, I promised not to tell so never mind
why she wouldn’t help us. Am I right? Please, please, I hope so. The guys were
so smug! Thanks! Aurora

He could actually hear her
in his head.
Some would call it
flightiness; he found it intoxicating. Following her thought pattern was like a
roller coaster ride. The mention of the two young men who he was sorely tempted
to flunk brought a slight frown to his face. At least she’s still willing to
talk to me, even if it’s only via computer.
Better
make this worth it.

Dear Aurora:  (
this was the first time he had ventured to use her
first name. He always thought of her as Princess Aurora, not the nickname Rori
that everyone else seemed to love).
I
am happy to oblige.
Yes, you are very correct. The terrain in the Northern
part of Italy is quite different from the Southern lands, and therefore two
distinct cuisine styles have emerged. The Northern region is most similar to
France, its neighbor, and the Southern region is more like what an American
would think of as Italian food. But even within these two divisions, there are
smaller regions with their own distinct characteristics. This would be a great
choice for you and Miss Johnston for your final project. I would be glad to
assist in any way. ~Marcus.

He hesitated, considering
deleting his last sentence. I
n his
head
he heard Jake say, “Suck it up, big guy, and go for
it!” He hit the send button before he changed his mind.

A
Slice of Quiche

Marcus felt like a spy
. He was determined to locate the mysterious art
studio where Aurora spent much of her time. He had already stopped by the after
school program and glanced in to make sure she was teaching today. That way he
could scope out the dungeon, as Miss Johnston termed it, without the danger of
running into Rori.

He could smell the paint
fumes and hear the
music
as he got closer. He hesitated. Great plan Sherlock, what are you going to do
now?
Step inside and say ‘I’m stalking one of your students,
could you please show me her work?’

Before he could decide on
advancing or retreating, the head of the art department
who was also the professor in charge of the seniors
and graduate school students stepped out of his office, almost colliding with
Marcus.

“Professor Smith,” Marcus
offered his hand
. “We met at the incoming
staff orientation a couple months ago.”

“Yes, Chef
MacRae, isn’t it?” Rori’s favorite instructor asked.
“What can I do for you? We don’t normally see the culinary staff down here in
the basement unless they’re lost.”

“No, this was an intentional
foray,” Marcus laughed. Quick, think of something!

“Perhaps you need an
illustrator for a cookbook, or a piece of abstract art featuring large tomatoes
and cucumbers for your new digs?

Professor Smith had an outrageous sense of humor, which was endearing to some
and annoying to others.

Thank you, Lord! Marcus
breathed silently.
             


As a matter of fact,” Marcus latched onto the lifeline
the art teacher threw out, “Professor Hampton suggested we compile a cook book
each year from favorite recipes of our students. It wouldn’t necessarily be
anything fancy, but I think some nice, simple illustrations would add a unique
touch.”

“Well, the seniors and grad
students are up to the
ir eyeballs in work
because of the big art show next weekend, but I will think about who might be a
good fit. What’s the timeline on it?”

“Oh, we’re just i
n the thinking stages right now.” Thankfully, this was
not a lie since Jake did in fact mention this once, a long time ago. Actually,
it was a
really long
time ago, like six years ago in
culinary school.


Perfect.” The art instructor walked back down the hall
with Marcus, “you should come to the art show. I think one of my most promising
students is actually in your evening class.”

“Oh
, really?”
Marcus feigned surprise.

“Yes,” Dr. Smith continued,
“Rori Sinclair. Actually it’s Aurora Sinclair but most people call her Rori or
Princess, which I assume is a reference to some fairy tale.
” The elderly widower must not have a young
granddaughter, Marcus thought.

“Yes,” Marcus answered,
“Aurora is actually in my class. I appreciate you considering the
illustrations, but again, there’s no hurry.” He couldn’t really think of anything
else to say, afraid to give away a hint of his real level of interest in the
young lady.

“Would you like to look
around the studio at the pieces in progress?”

The professor’s offer
terrified and thrilled Marcus at the same time.

“I wouldn’t want to disturb
any of the artists,” Marcus stammered. He knew Rori was not in the studio, but
wasn’t sure he wanted any of her compatriots to know of his interest.

“Oh, no one’s in the studio
right now. Most of them are at lunch, except for Rori,” Dr. Smith explained.
“She’s teaching upstairs. Even if they were here, though, artists always
welcome an excuse to take a break and talk about their masterpieces.”

As they moved through the
chaotic art space, Marcus smiled at the similarity between Rori’s kitchen area
during class and the disarray of most of the art student’s areas. As he looked
around, he spotted Rori’s work immediately. Although he had just met the young
woman, he felt such a deep connection to her already that her pieces seemed to
scream for his attention.

The professor was pointing
out various works around the studio, but Marcus focused on Rori’s work, which
was nestled in the far corner. He did not hide his distraction well enough,
though, and the professor wisely led the way to Rori’s
area. It was obvious to the older man that the young chef was smitten. Dr.
Smith smiled to himself. It was also obvious that Mr. MacRae was trying
desperately to hide his interest. Ever the romantic, the art professor decided
to help the young man.

“Rori’s work in particular
is quite interesting,” Professor Smith said, “especially for those who do not
know the delightful young lady very well. Some of it is already wrapped up for
transport to the gallery, but there are enough her to give you a sense of her
style. It is quite eclectic. She seems fall in love with every new technique
she tries.”

Marcus was stunned. The
paintings ranged from large vibrant, abstract landscapes, to smaller, strangely
calming watercolors. They seemed to mirror perfectly what little he knew of
this fascinating woman. In her works he saw the lively Rori he saw in class
that railed against his instruction and drove him to the point of frustration
and the contrite, playful Rori he conversed with each night. As he stared at
her work, a smaller piece caught his eye.

“This one looks quite
different from the others. Is this going to be part of the show?” The title of
the piece made him smile.

“She did that one afternoon,
on a whim, apparently,” Dr. Smith said. “It is quite haunting at first glance,
but the more you look at it, the more a sense of hope comes over you. I find it
fascinating. Rori doesn’t want to sell it for some reason. I think it holds
some sort of meaning to her.”

“Fasc
inating,” Marcus said quietly.
Aurora’s Castle.
Haunting was a good description. An overwhelming
desire to find a coat of armor and a white stallion popped into his mind.
Realizing that he may not be able to hide his feelings much longer from the
astute professor, Marcus moved on to some of the other students’ work, hoping
his questions did not sound as insincere as they felt. Being so close to what
was obviously an extremely personal space for her was making it hard for Marcus
to think of anything but Rori.

“Thank you, Dr. Smith,”
Marcus finally said, hiding his panic as he heard students in the hallway. “I
appreciate the tour. I will get back to you on the other matter.”

“Certainly,” Dr. Smith said.
Trying to better gauge the level of interest, he added, “I think you would
really enjoy the art show, too. Many of the pieces will be available for
purchase, too, if you’ve seen anything you like here. It’s at five o’clock next
Saturday at the downtown art gallery. Hope to see you there.” Dr. Smith
couldn’t help but laugh at the hasty retreat the chef made. Too bad Rori wasn’t
in the group of artists Marcus passed as he fled the scene. That would have
been an interchange worth witnessing.

As the students entered the
building that evening, they
were once again greeted
with the marvelous aroma of bacon.
The topic of tonight’s class was quiche. Marcus was hoping to teach them all
the art of a perfect piecrust and have them hone their cutting and mixing
skills on the relatively easy recipes. He definitely was not of the chauvinist
opinion that real men don’t eat quiche.

The fabulous foursome as
Marcus thought of Rori, Jessica, and the two young men stalking them, arrived
together, laughing at some inside joke.
The instructor had never taken two students in such dislike before. Hopefully
John and Calvin did not sense his annoyance.

“Tonight, class, we will be
making quiche,” the chef began. “This will entail you mastering a perfect
piecrust, which, if you follow the instructions carefully, can be done, I
promise!
” He tried to keep his tone
light, hoping that pretending to be in a good mood would translate itself into
actuality.

Glancing over at Aurora and
Jess’s table
, he saw her dramatically rub
her stomach. He completely lost his train of thought. She’s an enchantress.
Stay away! His mind warned him. He could almost hear Jake’s voice laughing at
him.


We will begin with a piecrust demonstration and then
you will find eight different recipes and the ingredients for each of the
fillings, here at my station. You may come and choose which to make. Each one
will involve some practice with your knife skills and I will be coming around
to check on your progress.”

For the
piecrust instruction, the class gathered around John
and Calvin’s station, because it was the biggest of the student areas. Chef
carefully showed them the steps to mixing the flour, butter, and water, and how
to delicately roll
out the dough. Each partnership
would make two pies and the crusts would chill in the refrigerators while they
prepared the fillings.

Making piecrusts was a skill
that didn't worry Rori.
Even Jess agreed
that she made a marvelous apple pie. The roommates decided to each make one of
the crusts, and were placing their creations in the refrigerator when Chef told
the class they should be completing their crusts and should move on to the
quiche fillings.

R
ori and Jess had chosen a quiche Lorraine recipe and
had gathered their ingredients. Hoping to avoid
being
scrutinized
by Marcus over her cutting skills, Rori chopped her chives
and bacon first. She glanced at the chef out of the corner of her eye and
realized he had started his inspections on the other side of the class.


I’m sure he started over there on purpose, so he can
save my awesome skills for last,” she whispered to Jess, who couldn’t hold back
her bark of laughter. Marcus glanced at the pair and raised a suspicious
eyebrow.

Because this was such an
important evaluation time, it did in fact take
the chef most the class time to get to their side of the room. By then
many of the groups were removing their cooked quiches from the oven. He ended
his evaluations two stations away from them with the Watkins, an older couple
who were taking the class purely for enjoyment. Since their vegetable quiche
was already baking, he asked both of them to chop a carrot so he could evaluate
their skills, praising both for their progress.

“Al
l right, class,” Chef announced, “that evaluation took
longer than expected. If your quiches are ready, please cut a piece and I will
come around and give you some feedback. Those that did not get to show me your
improved knife skills, I will get to later.” He looked pointedly at Jess and
Aurora.

“Anyone else that wants to
taste the creations may do so, too,” he added as he cut a piece of John and
Calvin’s quiche. He scribbled some notes in the grade book and nodded to the two
young men. “Flaky crust, vegetables cooked well
. You might consider a little more salt next time, but overall quite
nice.”

His evaluations of the next
few quiches were similar
. Each pair was
able to take any leftover quiches with them and leave when Chef finished
tasting theirs, but most everyone stayed so they could try all the delicious
creations. 

Only three
groups’ quiches
were left to be
tasted
when he moved to Aurora and Jess. They had already cut a piece
for him and placed it neatly on a plate. Aurora remembered hearing, “You eat
with your eyes first,” and being an artist this statement made perfect sense to
her. She had taken special care to cut a neat piece and had added a garnish of
a couple of green onion sprigs.


Nice presentation,” Marcus noted. “You two ladies did
not get to show me your knife skills, but it looks like these ingredients were
cut by a pro,” Marcus tried to keep his tone upbeat. 

Thinking to make a joke, he
continued, “Are you sure
, Miss Sinclair,
that Miss Johnston didn’t do all the work here?”

Her exhaustion from the
studio hours she was keeping, and the fact that he seemed determined to dislike
her, set the normally cheerful coed on edge.

“Excuse me?” she blurted. “I
will have you know I did
all
the chopping for this recipe, thank you very much.”

“Prove it,” he snapped as
his frustration over his reaction to this woman won over his determination to
remain calm and pleasant. He could always blame it on his Scottish ancestry and
stereotypical redheaded temperament. He
grabbed a carrot and slammed it on her cutting board.

Thankfully, the rest of the
class had decided this was a perfect time to clean up their stations and
quietly moved away from the clash of personalities playing out before them.

Rori’s hands were shaking
with anger and she attempted
to finely dice
half the
carrot and julienne the other half.

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