The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 27 - The Party

I take a good look around me and sigh. I have never seen the living room look so festive.

I gave Sosa a hell of a time trying to convince me to throw a Good Luck for the Procedure party for Millie, but now, seeing the yellow and purple balloons strewn all over the floor and the big 'We love you, Millie!' banner Sosa drew by hand, I have to admit I'm glad she talked me into it.

"What do you think, Sunxajn?" Sosa chirps proudly as she twists a length of golden tulle ribbon into a large bow at the end of the bannister.

"It looks amazing, Sosa. Thank you," I reply warmly, going into the kitchen to check the time. 

It's six o'clock. Perfect! Carmen and Millie should be packing up from Bingo right about now. 

The oven timer goes off and before I can do anything, a sharp, anxious voice cuts through the air.

"Don't touch that! I'm coming!"

Jeremy whizzes through the door in Nanna's red and pink apron and makes a beeline for the oven. He swiftly puts on Millie's pink oven mitts and opens the oven door. The smell that engulfs the room is out of this world. I move closer to see what's inside the dish and almost get hit by the piping hot tray as Jeremy swerves dangerously, unaware that I'm right behind him.

"Step back, woman!" he snaps at me angrily as he sets the tray on the chopping board. "What are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Your kitchen?" 

"Yes! I'm the chef so it's my kitchen!" he announces moving around me to get something from the fridge. 

I can't help but mimic him as he returns to his workstation, but I do it silently and behind his back so that he doesn't see or hear me.

When I told him about the party, I was expecting him to dismiss the whole thing as gruesome and atrocious. But to my amazement, his response was, 'That's a great idea. I'll cook!' I told him he was just as bat-shit crazy as Sosa but, eventually, I gave in and let them have their way, figuring we could all use a distraction.

It's been two weeks of constant worrying and dancing on eggshells around one another. Maybe this party is exactly what we need.

I reach over past Jeremy and snatch what looks like a rolled speck, stuffing it quickly into my mouth before he can slap my wrist away. He glowers at me angrily at first but then his look becomes expectant.

"Oh, wow this is good!" I say, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice. I have been fortunate enough to have Jeremy cook for me several times over the past few days, but this is simply exquisite. There is no other word for it.

"Of course, it is!" he says a little too smugly. "Wait till you try the salmon and avocado tartines."

I snort back in response. He's wearing one of his designer suits and his usual arrogant expression, both of which contrast heavily with Millie's apron and oven mitts. He shaved off his stubble completely and he looks younger and sharper, making it impossible for me to ignore how good he looks as he carefully plates the roulades at an angle and equidistant from each other.

I turn my attention to the rest of the kitchen. What must be all of Millie's pots and pans, cutlery, plates and bowls are scattered along the kitchen cupboard or piled into the sink. But on the table, there is a wide array of assortments that look absolutely wonderful. He even placed tiny cards on each serving dish with the names of the items neatly handwritten in curly calligraphy.

Pizzotti, Garlic Focaccia, Gourmet Onion and Tomato Bruschetta, Marinated Crab Puffs with Mint Crème, Mozzarella and Cherry Tomato Delights, Mini-Quiche, Mini-Club Sandwiches, Assorted Canapés...