Page 34 of The Facilitator: Part 2
“It’s probably your own, or one of those bloody Plug-In things Kerry likes when she does thecleaning.”
I heard the rattle of the cupboard, pots and pans, metal clanking on metal and the swish as the fridge dooropened.
“Steak good for you?” heshouted.
“Sure, thank you.” I slipped off my Converse and walked around thehall.
The scent was stronger by the front door. It was fainter elsewhere. I scanned along the base of the wall looking for plug sockets. I couldn’t see any Plug-In air fresheners anywhere. The more I sniffed, the less I could smell it. I knew it wasn’t my own perfume; I rarely wore any. Mackenzie didn’t like the ‘taste’ of it, so he’d tell me when he kissed my neck. I shook my head. I was beingdaft.
I joined him in the kitchen and was allowed to slice some mushrooms. Mackenzie was preparing a steak with a creamy mushroom sauce and chunky chips. My mouth watered at thethought.
“Did you teach yourself to cook?” Iasked.
“No, my mom did. I know it sounds strange, but she was a big believer in teaching me independence. I can even make a bed with hospital corners on the bottom sheet if I have to.” The level of pride in his voice made melaugh.
“Can you iron?” I asked, washing the chopping knife in thesink.
“Isn’t preparing you a gourmet meal, knowing the difference between a cheap or decent wine, making beds, enough? Iron! No, who the fuck ever needs to know how to iron?” he said, laughing as heworked.
He took an already opened bottle of red wine from the counter, a bottle we’d sampled the night before, I believed, and poured two glasses. He slid one over to me as he took a seat at the breakfast bar. The meat was under the grill and the sauce was simmering on the hob. There was a dish of vegetables in the steamer, waiting for him to press abutton.
“My mom had this thing that I was never to be reliant on anyone for anything. My dad, too, I guess, although he was always too busy with the factory. She came from a poorfamily.”
I raised my glass. “Then I toast the fact you’re a self-made man, it means so much more than to be handed it all on aplate.”
“It also means I fight harder to keep it, because I know the blood, sweat, and tears it took to get it.” He clinked his glass against mine. He checked his watch and then the food. He started the steamer, and while he waited, he rested the meat on a wooden board. A couple of minutes later, we were side by sideeating.
* * *
Jerry didn’t callthe following day; I sat in my office with my mobile by my side, and carried it with me whenever I had to leave. I sent him a text asking him to let me know what day he’d be free for lunch. I thought—if he were so in love—I wouldn’t get an evening with him. As the day wore on, and as the evening came to a close, my frustration levelrose.
I didn't hear from Jerry the following day either. In fact, it was midweek before he graced me with hispresence.
I was sitting at my desk when the largest bunch of lilies appeared at the door. I didn’t need to look to know they were lilies. I was allergic and the onslaught of sneezing was all I needed to know what was within a few feet ofme.
“Oh, babe, I forgot,” I heard. Jerry’s head appeared aroundthem.
I held one hand over my nose and waved himout.
“Get rid of them,” I said, although muffled I was sure heunderstood.
Already my eyes had started to water and swell. In approximately ten minutes, I’d look like I’d spent hours and hourssobbing.
“Here, for you, from my heart,” he said, handing them to a passing woman. He held his hand over his heart and gave her a wide smile. She flustered, coloured, and then rushed off withthem.
“I am so sorry,” he said dramatically, as he took the seat oppositeme.
“Don’t apologise for giving me flowers you would have long forgotten I was allergic to, since you’venevergiven me flowers anyway. Apologise for standing me up, leaving me in a bar feeling very uncomfortable, and then not answering my calls or text messages. Then promising to ring and not…again.”
“My darling, Lauren. I. Am. So. So. Sorry.” He got down on one knee and held out one arm as if recitingHamlet.
“Sincerely,” Isaid.
“Oh, fuck off.” He laughed as he winced when rising and then sitting back in thechair.
I laughed along withhim.
“I have so much gossip, except it’s not really gossip. Have you got time forlunch?”
