she relinquished his hand. “So, has Terry invited you over for Thanksgiving yet?”
“Alison!”
“Terry’s only the best cook in the whole wide world. You’re not busy, are you?”
“Well, no, but …”
“Good. Then it’s settled. Don’t worry, Terry,” Alison cautioned, “I’ll help.”
I’m not sure exactly what happened after that. I remember wanting to wring Alison’s lovely, swanlike neck. I also wanted to throw my arms around her and jump up and down with joy. At any rate, perhaps sensing my ambivalance, Alison muttered something about meeting with me later to discuss all the necessary details, then made a hasty retreat, disappearing into a swirl of pink sand. Josh drove me to my house, waiting in the car whileI ran upstairs, towel-dried my hair, and changed out of my wet clothes. Then he drove me back to work. Neither one of us said anything until he pulled up in front of the hospital. Then we turned simultaneously toward one another.
“Josh …”
“Terry …”
“You don’t have to come to dinner on Thanksgiving.”
“You don’t have to invite me.”
“No, I’d love to invite you.”
“Then I’d love to come.”
“Really?”
“Jan’s taking the kids that night, so I have no particular plans.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be anything fancy.…”
“I don’t need fancy if I have the best cook in the whole wide world.”
I laughed. “Well, that might be a slight exaggeration.”
“She’s quite a character, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is.”
“A real whirling dervish. Slightly fey, very charming.”
Charming, fey, I think now. Not the words I would use to describe her.
What words would you use?
I hear Alison whisper slyly in my ear.
“You’ll explain to my mother why I didn’t come back to see her?” Josh asked, indicating his wet clothes.
“Can I leave out the part where I almost drowned?”
Josh laughed. “What time next Thursday?”
I quickly mulled over everything I had to do to prepare. It had been years since I’d cooked anyoneThanksgiving dinner. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bought a turkey. It’s not something you normally buy when you’re cooking for one. “Seven o’clock?”
“Seven o’clock,” he repeated. “I’m thankful already.”
I stepped out of the car and skipped up the hospital’s front steps, turning back as I pulled open the door. My hero, I thought, watching Josh drive away, my head pleasantly dizzy with anticipation, the sound of the surf still ringing in my ears.
E IGHT
“O kay, so are you ready for your whole new look?”
Alison, wearing blue shorts, a white halter top, and hot-pink nail polish on her bare toes, stood outside my kitchen door, her arms loaded with an interesting array of bottles and tubes. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She looked about twelve.
My own hair was freshly washed, as per her instructions, and wrapped in a white towel that matched my white terry-cloth robe. “What’s all this?” I stepped back to let her inside.
“Creams, oils, emulsions.” She deposited the various items on my kitchen table and arranged them to her satisfaction. “What’s an emulsion anyway?”
I thought back to my years at nursing school. “Any colloidal suspension of one liquid in another liquid,” I said, almost by rote, startled by how easily such long-forgotten nuggets resurfaced.
“Colloidal?”
“A colloid is a gelatinous substance which when dissolved in a liquid will not diffuse readily through either vegetable or animal membranes.”
Alison looked at me as if I were some new form of alien species. “Could you try that again?”
“It’s a liquid preparation that’s the color and consistency of milk,” I said plainly.
She smiled, lifted a medium-sized glass bottle of white cream into her hands. “That would be this one.”
“How can you buy products when you don’t know what they are?”
“Nobody knows what they are. That’s why they cost so much.”
I
“Alison!”
“Terry’s only the best cook in the whole wide world. You’re not busy, are you?”
“Well, no, but …”
“Good. Then it’s settled. Don’t worry, Terry,” Alison cautioned, “I’ll help.”
I’m not sure exactly what happened after that. I remember wanting to wring Alison’s lovely, swanlike neck. I also wanted to throw my arms around her and jump up and down with joy. At any rate, perhaps sensing my ambivalance, Alison muttered something about meeting with me later to discuss all the necessary details, then made a hasty retreat, disappearing into a swirl of pink sand. Josh drove me to my house, waiting in the car whileI ran upstairs, towel-dried my hair, and changed out of my wet clothes. Then he drove me back to work. Neither one of us said anything until he pulled up in front of the hospital. Then we turned simultaneously toward one another.
“Josh …”
“Terry …”
“You don’t have to come to dinner on Thanksgiving.”
“You don’t have to invite me.”
“No, I’d love to invite you.”
“Then I’d love to come.”
“Really?”
“Jan’s taking the kids that night, so I have no particular plans.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be anything fancy.…”
“I don’t need fancy if I have the best cook in the whole wide world.”
I laughed. “Well, that might be a slight exaggeration.”
“She’s quite a character, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is.”
“A real whirling dervish. Slightly fey, very charming.”
Charming, fey, I think now. Not the words I would use to describe her.
What words would you use?
I hear Alison whisper slyly in my ear.
“You’ll explain to my mother why I didn’t come back to see her?” Josh asked, indicating his wet clothes.
“Can I leave out the part where I almost drowned?”
Josh laughed. “What time next Thursday?”
I quickly mulled over everything I had to do to prepare. It had been years since I’d cooked anyoneThanksgiving dinner. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bought a turkey. It’s not something you normally buy when you’re cooking for one. “Seven o’clock?”
“Seven o’clock,” he repeated. “I’m thankful already.”
I stepped out of the car and skipped up the hospital’s front steps, turning back as I pulled open the door. My hero, I thought, watching Josh drive away, my head pleasantly dizzy with anticipation, the sound of the surf still ringing in my ears.
E IGHT
“O kay, so are you ready for your whole new look?”
Alison, wearing blue shorts, a white halter top, and hot-pink nail polish on her bare toes, stood outside my kitchen door, her arms loaded with an interesting array of bottles and tubes. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She looked about twelve.
My own hair was freshly washed, as per her instructions, and wrapped in a white towel that matched my white terry-cloth robe. “What’s all this?” I stepped back to let her inside.
“Creams, oils, emulsions.” She deposited the various items on my kitchen table and arranged them to her satisfaction. “What’s an emulsion anyway?”
I thought back to my years at nursing school. “Any colloidal suspension of one liquid in another liquid,” I said, almost by rote, startled by how easily such long-forgotten nuggets resurfaced.
“Colloidal?”
“A colloid is a gelatinous substance which when dissolved in a liquid will not diffuse readily through either vegetable or animal membranes.”
Alison looked at me as if I were some new form of alien species. “Could you try that again?”
“It’s a liquid preparation that’s the color and consistency of milk,” I said plainly.
She smiled, lifted a medium-sized glass bottle of white cream into her hands. “That would be this one.”
“How can you buy products when you don’t know what they are?”
“Nobody knows what they are. That’s why they cost so much.”
I
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