Chapter 5

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The kitchen was huge, and it had every cooking gadget you could imagine, including a pizza oven.

Claire went to the fridge and pulled out two frozen pizzas. Meanwhile, Roger was checking the pantry. Then he did a cursory once over the contents of the fridge.

"Claire, are you famished?"

"Not, particularly."

"Then, if you'll give me a couple of hours, I'll make fresh pizza."

Without waiting for a reply, he pulled bread flour, kosher salt, olive oil, sugar, and yeast and started to combine the ingredients in a bowl. Then he folded the dough.

Claire watched, fascinated, as her husband displayed his culinary prowess. I wasted three months.

"When I was 19, I spent a year working at Totonno's out by Coney Island. You ever been?" he explained.

"Uh.. no, never." I can only imagine how hard your life has been.

"This won't be as good as if I could make the dough the day before, but it's much better than frozen pizza."

"I'd love to hear how you went from pizza chef to orderly at the hospital. It must have been difficult for you all alone." I want to get to know you and for you to know me.

"Yeah, there are a lot of fun memories... A lot of bitter ones, too. You see me calm now, but I used to be a hothead. Got into a lot of fights. Trouble. Then, I met a priest out of St. Mary's on Grand. He helped change. He passed two years ago." He stopped kneading for a few seconds, his eyes closed.

Claire was lost in thought. Could we grow to love each other? We have such different backgrounds. He's focused on his career. But, the way he is... it's so alluring.

After a few minutes, he set the dough aside to let it rest.

I've had men cook for me on dates, but it was just that, an effort for a date. He just... I don't know. He's so genuine.

Then he started on the tomatoes, "There's nothing better than fresh pizza sauce. If you want to help, you could start on the vegetables. Some bell peppers, mushrooms, onion, maybe?" He looked at the silent Claire.

"Uh.. yeah, sure. I'm just enjoying watching you cook." She commented.

If he only knew that, I would have no idea how to do any of that. I'm definitely not wife material in that regard.

"If you want to watch, that's fine too. It'll only take a few minutes. The wait is for the dough to rise and the sauce to cook." He explained and continued working, with the practiced motions of a line cook, on the ingredients for the sauce.

See, that's just it. No arguing. No games. No agenda. Just quiet, courteous, unassuming Roger making me happy. One of the most powerful humans on earth making me pizza while I watch.

Claire sat watching him. Then she took out her phone and typed briefly.

"I noticed you have some Pecorino Romano, so this is going to taste exquisite. I normally can't afford it, so I use whatever parmesan I can find." Honey, from now on, you can afford anything you want.

Twenty minutes later, he cleaned the island top with a satisfied look and turned to a silent Claire.

"You could pick out some wine? I'm not very good at that. Where I'm from, they make Tequila. I would normally have beer, but I didn't see any in the fridge."

"Sure, I have a wine I'm sure you'd like, but if you want beer, there's a variety in the bar. Can you leave this for a few minutes?" She said, gesturing to the simmering pot, "You can pick out one you like." She smiled, grabbed his hand, and pulled him toward the bar.

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