Bernice was waiting when Edwin came down to the kitchen.
“Morning, lazybones! I thought you were going to stay in bed all day.” Her smile was wide and cheery, but she didn’t get up from her chair at the counter. She had a bunch of vegetables and ingredients laid out in front of her but obviously hadn’t done any cooking yet. The only smell to the room was the coffee brewing next to the stove. It was what had lured Ed downstairs in the first place.
“You should feel all rested and ready to take on the world,” Bernice continued, still with that same broad smile. She laid her right hand on the counter next to a bottle of cooking oil and tapped her fingers too loudly. Her smile got even wider.
Ed grimaced but didn’t say anything. He moved toward the coffee, filled his favorite cup, dropped in the sweetener that wouldn’t cause cancer. For the spoon, he had to crowd her to get it out of the silverware drawer, but he didn’t say a word about the set-up on the counter. When he carried his cup to the fridge and opened the door, he stood there for a long moment. He moved a few things around, juice, milk, bottles of water. Looking back at his wife, she still was smiling and had both hands tapping on the counter now. Finally, he had to break his silence.
“Where’s the good creamer, B?”
“Early bird got it, Ed – hours ago,” she laughed as he grunted and closed the fridge. “There’s the powdered kind in the cabinet. You like the hazelnut. It’s in the brown wrapper. And I’ve already added creamer to the grocery list.”
“I know, B,” he moved to the cabinet and shoved stuff aside until he found the brown plastic jar. It was brand new, of course, so he had to set down his coffee to rip off the protective seal. He wanted to use his teeth to get a good grip but knew that she would fuss. Finally, he got it off and glared at the dust inside. He needed to get a new spoon but decided to just pour some of the powder in. He poured too much and cursed under his breath.
“Ah, ah, Ed! You’ll have to put a quarter in the cuss jar!” She laughed and scooted the kitchen chair closer to the counter. The legs squeaked loudly against the yellow linoleum. She giggled and grinned just like she did back when they were dating. As he stirred the lump of creamer around in his cup, she started shifting the vegetable arrangement on the counter with busy little movements that brought wrinkles to his own face, but on his forehead instead of around his mouth and eyes.
The first sip wasn’t entirely satisfying, but he let out a long sign anyway. She looked up, winked at him, giggled again, and kept moving things around. He banged his spoon around in the coffee and took another sip. It was getting better.
“Hazelnut’s not too bad,” he grunted. He leaned his back against the far counter and took his third sip. He stared at his wife’s white hair as she pretended to be busy. He remembered when it was brunette and curled on her shoulders. She caught him looking and winked a second time.
“Okay, B, what’s with the vegetables and the oil? You setting up shop?”
She laughed. A full-on laugh that shook her shoulders and closed her eyes. Their grandkids liked to play grocery when they visited and would spend hours in the kitchen shuffling cans and produce back and forth. Ed knew that she loved that time with the kids. He liked to sit on the deck and listen to their fun when they visited. Tom had taken the family to Florida though, so he knew that wasn’t it.
“Not shop, Ed,” Bernice said, still laughing. “Even better – it’s Soup Day! And I want you to take the pictures!”
Ed covered his grimace with another sip of coffee. Now, the whole day was shot. Darn Bernice and her Cooking Blog!
“Morning, lazybones! I thought you were going to stay in bed all day.” Her smile was wide and cheery, but she didn’t get up from her chair at the counter. She had a bunch of vegetables and ingredients laid out in front of her but obviously hadn’t done any cooking yet. The only smell to the room was the coffee brewing next to the stove. It was what had lured Ed downstairs in the first place.
“You should feel all rested and ready to take on the world,” Bernice continued, still with that same broad smile. She laid her right hand on the counter next to a bottle of cooking oil and tapped her fingers too loudly. Her smile got even wider.
Ed grimaced but didn’t say anything. He moved toward the coffee, filled his favorite cup, dropped in the sweetener that wouldn’t cause cancer. For the spoon, he had to crowd her to get it out of the silverware drawer, but he didn’t say a word about the set-up on the counter. When he carried his cup to the fridge and opened the door, he stood there for a long moment. He moved a few things around, juice, milk, bottles of water. Looking back at his wife, she still was smiling and had both hands tapping on the counter now. Finally, he had to break his silence.
“Where’s the good creamer, B?”
“Early bird got it, Ed – hours ago,” she laughed as he grunted and closed the fridge. “There’s the powdered kind in the cabinet. You like the hazelnut. It’s in the brown wrapper. And I’ve already added creamer to the grocery list.”
“I know, B,” he moved to the cabinet and shoved stuff aside until he found the brown plastic jar. It was brand new, of course, so he had to set down his coffee to rip off the protective seal. He wanted to use his teeth to get a good grip but knew that she would fuss. Finally, he got it off and glared at the dust inside. He needed to get a new spoon but decided to just pour some of the powder in. He poured too much and cursed under his breath.
“Ah, ah, Ed! You’ll have to put a quarter in the cuss jar!” She laughed and scooted the kitchen chair closer to the counter. The legs squeaked loudly against the yellow linoleum. She giggled and grinned just like she did back when they were dating. As he stirred the lump of creamer around in his cup, she started shifting the vegetable arrangement on the counter with busy little movements that brought wrinkles to his own face, but on his forehead instead of around his mouth and eyes.
The first sip wasn’t entirely satisfying, but he let out a long sign anyway. She looked up, winked at him, giggled again, and kept moving things around. He banged his spoon around in the coffee and took another sip. It was getting better.
“Hazelnut’s not too bad,” he grunted. He leaned his back against the far counter and took his third sip. He stared at his wife’s white hair as she pretended to be busy. He remembered when it was brunette and curled on her shoulders. She caught him looking and winked a second time.
“Okay, B, what’s with the vegetables and the oil? You setting up shop?”
She laughed. A full-on laugh that shook her shoulders and closed her eyes. Their grandkids liked to play grocery when they visited and would spend hours in the kitchen shuffling cans and produce back and forth. Ed knew that she loved that time with the kids. He liked to sit on the deck and listen to their fun when they visited. Tom had taken the family to Florida though, so he knew that wasn’t it.
“Not shop, Ed,” Bernice said, still laughing. “Even better – it’s Soup Day! And I want you to take the pictures!”
Ed covered his grimace with another sip of coffee. Now, the whole day was shot. Darn Bernice and her Cooking Blog!
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