Alchemy and Algebra

Chapter 14

Kennedy found that she so enjoyed working in the kitchen with Charlie that she was almost sad when dinner was ready. As she took steaming serving dishes to the table, Charlie went to the little stereo over the fridge and put on some music. A pianist played the first delicate and melancholy notes of Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata.'

"I would not have guessed that you were a classical guy," Kennedy said.

"I'm trying to create a romantic atmosphere. You'll have to tell me if it's working or not."

He held out Kennedy's chair for her, which did far more for her than the music. Her new knowledge of his skill in the kitchen was helping Kennedy feel even more drawn to Charlie than she already was. She loved finding out more about him. There was nothing she learned that didn't make him more appealing. His optimism, his curiosity, his self-confidence. His line of work was still a concern, but less so since they'd talked about his beliefs.

"Yes, I'd say it's working." Charlie rewarded her with one of those pirate-who-wants-to-ravish-his-maiden smiles. "Though to be honest, I find Beethoven to be a bit fussy. He tugs a bit too hard on the heartstrings."

"Oh? Who do you like, then?"

He set a thick slice of bread on Kennedy's bright floral plate next to her steak, then added a slice to his own plate. She spooned steamed Romanesque cauliflower next to the bread while she flipped through the musicians in her memory.

"I'd say Bach. Especially his guitar pieces. I don't have anything against violins in small doses, but they start to grate on me after a while."

"I can see that. Music from that era is almost mathematical. And it's funny you picked him in particular. I play exactly one classical piece on guitar, and I'm pretty sure it's Bach. Simplified, but his melody."

"You play guitar?"

"When I was a teenager, I wanted to grow up and be a rock star. I took lessons and the only thing I learned was how hard it is to play the guitar well. I was seventeen, and once I figured out that I wouldn't be world-famous by age twenty, I gave it up."

"Too bad you didn't start younger. You could have sold a million records with your 'come-hither' looks alone."

"If you keep saying stuff like that, we're not going to make it through dinner."

He nudged Kennedy's foot under the table with his own and looked at her expectantly. When she batted her lashes, then turned her attention back to cutting her steak, he sighed, then picked up the thread of the conversation.

"The best thing I learned from guitar lessons was how to really *listen* to music, you know? And a friend showed me how to play the darbuka, so I've kept playing music that way."

Kennedy rolled the unfamiliar word on her tongue, trying to remember if she'd ever heard it before. Finally, she asked, "What's a darbuka?"

"A hand drum. Shaped kind of like an hourglass. Mine's aluminum, painted up all pretty. You'd... actually, you'd probably think it was too flashy."

Kennedy glanced around the eclectic kitchen. "I'd say that flashy is growing on me."

"Speaking of flashy and exotic, what do you think of buffalo?"

She'd just put the first bite of her steak in her mouth, and took a moment to decide if she liked it or not.

"It's interesting. It's like lean beef, but a little different. Almost smoother. Once you get over the weird factor, it's not bad. You?"

"I love it. I'd have a buffalo in the back yard if I could get away with it. And if I had a yard. This cauliflower is good, too. Nice pick."

Kennedy realized she'd arranged the florets on her plate in the shape of the whole vegetable. "It's almost too pretty to eat."

"I'm surprised to hear you say that, since your taste tends to run to 'clean and simple'."

"Well, it's complicated, but it's simple, too. Like Bach. It's predictable. You're never jarred by any big awful surprises."

Charlie put his finger to his palm and mimed writing. "Note to self. Kennedy isn't in favor of surprises."

"Thank you! I've been telling some people that for years and they just don't believe that a person could not like surprises."

"I try hard to believe what people tell me. Not as hard fact, but as something that's true to them. Everyone's allowed to have their own feelings and beliefs."

"I can't tell you what a relief that is to hear. I've got some beliefs that other people have a hard time with."

"Like?"

Kennedy gestured to her nearly empty plate. "Like this dinner. As good as it is, I don't want to go to this much trouble every day. In fact, there's this company that's making a true meal-replacement drink from soy and lentils. I'm backing their Kickstarter campaign. I can't wait until they start production of Soy-Lent drink."

Charlie coughed on a mouthful of salad. "You'd drink something called Soylent?"

"As long as the ingredient list is detailed and accurate. I love the idea of getting all you need in one bottle. It's just so beautifully efficient. And before you ask, no, it's not green."

"And here I thought I was the adventurous one in this relationship." He shook his head, chuckling. "I suppose I should be grateful that you keep me around when there are vibrators for sale out there."

"There are times when getting what you need in the most efficient way possible is the goal, but I wouldn't want to give up...food...for good. Like I said, the meal is quite tasty. Besides, having someone to choose a meal with keeps things interesting."

Charlie put down his fork and looked at Kennedy with far more appetite than he had his meal. "Does that mean you'd be interested in experimenting with some new ingredients?"

"As long as you're not proposing we set another place at the table."

Charlie groaned. "There's a visual I didn't need right now. You, naked and writhing, another woman's hands all over you."

"Where did that come from?" Kennedy asked, feigning surprise. "Charlie Weston, you have a dirty mind."

He rose and, with the grace of a large predatory cat, moved to Kennedy's side of the table and leaned down to her level. Charlie then kissed her deeply until she was flushed and panting. "Don't you forget it," he murmured in her ear.

Charlie returned to his seat and picked up his fork like nothing had happened. Kennedy, however, was momentarily struck dumb. The kiss, plus Charlie hinting about 'new ingredients' had her squirming in her seat. What could he have in mind? A new position? A new location? She hoped he didn't ask anything too extreme, partly because she didn't want to turn him down, and partly because she was afraid she'd agree to anything that held the promise of more pleasure.

She didn't seem to be very good at saying 'no' to Charlie. Not that he'd asked anything of her that she'd later regretted, but he had such different tastes, and a much larger tolerance for the unusual, that she couldn't predict his next move. It was kind of exciting. She found herself looking forward to finding out.