Under the Table(24)
“I’m ashamed to say it’s been on for days and I can’t tear myself away.”
“Watch anything good?” she said, covertly trying to see how much damage control was going to be needed.
He scrunched up his face in thought. “Hmmm. Well, apparently housewives exist all over the country and they spend all their time together, even though it’s clear they despise each other. There are people who weigh over six hundred pounds and I guess there is only one doctor in Texas that wants to help them, and he does it by removing part of their stomachs. I found out there are people who are called hoarders that have so much nasty stuff in their homes they can’t move around. I like how people come to the rescue and help them, but I’m still worried for them. Oh, and there’s a crazy lady who owns a dance school for young girls who spends most of her time being mean to them and screaming. And the mothers tolerate it!”
“Look, those are called reality shows, but there is nothing real about them. Those shows are mostly staged. They have directors and producers and make sure that no matter how much film footage they take of the people, they only broadcast the parts that are outrageous. Do yourself a favor and stick to game shows or comedies.”
“There was one other thing I noticed. People on this channel right here? They go to see plastic surgeons a lot. Don’t like your face? Change it. Breasts or backside too big or too small, go under the knife and wake up with your heart’s desire. Apparently, there is no ugly, there’s only poor. Tragic really, since most of them look just fine. Nobody seems as concerned with being a good person.”
He sounded sad. Zoey wondered if she had done the right thing, trying to break him out of his media blackout. It was starting to feel like she was the one in need of a makeover.
“That’s enough of that,” Tristan said, grabbing the remote on the mantel and turning the television off, bringing them both back to the moment.
“What do you feel like having for dinner? There are some great restaurants in Chelsea near where Ruth is meeting us later. We have plenty of time.” Zoey rolled her eyes. “The club doesn’t open till eleven.”
Tristan’s reaction was nothing short of glee. “We may stay out all night! Very exciting.”
Zoey smiled at his delight. She just couldn’t help it. His enthusiasm was infectious.
Tristan’s smile instantly faded. “Do you feel all right?”
She gave him a bemused look and then remembered. “I’m fine. I fell asleep with these strips that make your teeth whiter in my mouth. I ended up bleaching my gums.”
He didn’t laugh. “Your teeth are already white. And you can barely notice it. I’m just captivated by your smile. It lit up my whole apartment the first time I met you.”
Zoey had heard about how happy people only see the good in others, and Tristan was living proof. Then she smelled it, dumbfounded that she hadn’t noticed before. The faint smell of onions and garlic and . . . was that thyme? She actually lifted her nose in the air to see if she could decipher any other spices.
“I can see you answered your own question about dinner this evening,” Tristan said with a grin. “I haven’t completely lost my roots. Tonight, I want to show off some of the first things I learned to cook from the islands.”
They went into the dining room, and it almost took her breath away. The table once again was beautifully set. The floral arrangement was new, a huge glorious bouquet, not of romantic roses, but tulips and sunflowers, purple asters and daisies. It was placed directly in between and above the two place settings at one end of the table. In another life, she might have swooned.
“Sit,” he said, pulling out her chair. “It’s all ready and in the warming tray.”
He dashed off, returning with two bowls and setting one in front of her then taking his own seat.
“This is callaloo soup, although I used spinach. I got the idea a little too spur of the moment and had spinach left over from the other day.” Tristan stopped when she raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I used week-old spinach, but it’s a soup, for crying out loud.”
“Didn’t seem to affect it,” Zoey said after taking a spoonful. “This is delicious.”
He brought out the main course and Zoey was blown away. “This is unreal!”
Tristan grinned with pride. “This is Fish and Okra Fungi. Normally, you would cook the fish in a saucepan, but I broiled it. The fish is fresh, but I didn’t want to run the risk of stinking up my kitchen. And I love the smell of the cornmeal cooking, so, yeah, I’m selfish like that.”
Then he took his napkin and tucked it into his shirt at the neck like a bib. Zoey laughed behind her napkin.
“If I drop something on these clothes, I’ll kill myself. It took me all day to pick out this outfit.”
He was onto something there. Zoey tucked her napkin into the neckline of her dress as well.
The fungi wasn’t as spicy as Zoey thought it would be, but there was plenty of pepper and onion. The cornmeal had a marvelous texture, and Tristan proved his love of butter. Instead of her original plan to only pick at her food to keep from bloating, Zoey once again was cleaning her plate while their easy conversation flowed.
“Do you miss home?” Zoey asked.
“I used to.” Tristan smiled at her from across the table. “I wanted to make a change, but I had no idea just how big a change New York was. Or just how well my grandparents had sheltered me. Lately, I don’t miss it so much. I have you to thank for that.”