All In A Day's Work

“Fork on the left, knife on the right, spoon at the top,” Nel mumbles. “Fold the napkin three times. Smooth out the folds to make it stick. Place in wine glass. Put handmade menu on the plate.” He provides the commentary for every move he makes.

The table is not impressive in the least but he works with what he has. He places the table for two right in the entrance hallway. No way for them to miss it. It is the place with the best lighting and within easy reach of the kitchen and without any windows – just the full length mirrors on both sides, it was bound to maximise attention on the beloved.

It is a lovely house, Nel thinks to himself as he walks back into the kitchen. Picture perfect with no visible stains and cracks, every piece picked for its price and the impression it put forward.  A little cold with its bland tones, empty frames and dead personality. Its walls announced ‘herein lives a fractured love story.’  It was the kind of house that was only a stopover, not the destination.  He doesn’t dwell much on any of it. The kitchen, where he is to spend most of the night, is state of the art. Clean and white with black undertones, a large island and clear marble countertops, no lingering aromas and no cooking stains – the tell-tale signs of a neglected room.

Nel ignores it all and gets to work. Slice, slide. Slice, slide. The vegetables end up in enough pans and its hell’s fire from there on out. He doesn’t notice the lady of the house till she is behind him, her strong perfume causing him to wrinkle his nose before his eyes can take her in. She doesn’t bother with greetings; she walks right to the stove and checks his cooking. He reins in his sharp comment. She looks the part she is supposed to play; a striking beauty, aloof and self-centered.

“Did he do this?” It’s a mix of wonder and regret laced with longing, a testament to the many times ‘he’ has supposedly not come through. The only answer here should be yes because Nel doesn’t have the heart to crush her happiness with the truth, that she had her secretary call him to whip up something special at the last minute and he had been promised triple his going rate if he pulled this off. The lie weighs heavy on his tongue and refuses to roll out. In the space he should have given the answer, he considers how some people are crazy enough to do things for themselves and fake the shock at the reveal. She takes his silence for affirmation.

She walks out and stops by his poor setup. “Should I change out of this?” She asks herself in the mirror but turns to him for an answer. Nel makes a movement in between a nod and a shake and she seems to take an answer from that. She dashes upstairs and leaves Nel to make the finishing touches on his evening. If he is to bag the money, this evening must go well. And well is a couple deeply in love singing his praises.

“Did she do this?” He comes in shrugging out of his jacket. His voice is rich with arrogance and disinterest with a hint of amusement. Like there was no way she would ever think this up. The lie/half-truth/truth comes easier this time in Nel’s nod. The man slumps into his chair with a sigh that can’t decide whether it’s happy or hard-pressed. He pulls out his phone immediately.

“And I will be waiting on you for the night,” Nel finds his voice, “As we wait, perhaps you want to listen to some mood music? Any favourite love songs.” He gets a grunt for all his trouble. Nel pulls out his phone instead and plays something off his playlist. It’s a relief too because with this job, he has learnt that he can only trust his music taste.

She returns in a little red number highlighting all the right curves, her hair cascading in soft curls till her shoulders and her lips screaming mercy for a kiss.

Nel waits two beats too long for her husband to pull out her chair before he reaches out and does it himself.

“We’ll start off our evening with some soup and bread rolls. Wine?” They both lift their glasses and Nel delivers the starter.

Nel had never before witnessed such a quiet sober dinner between lovers, if that was what you could call the two people at the table; no longing looks or casual touches or overwhelming attention on the beloved, no inside jokes or scooting closer as though they could never be close enough or innuendos for an after, no drunken laughter or odd giggles and especially no soppy nauseatingly-romantic compliments. All their talk seems focused around undetailed replies about their work. They appear as the sort of people who had forgotten the simple joy of being together, where even conversation that should have flowed naturally is an uphill task.

Where did they get lost, Nel wonders?

Nel carries in the plates with the main course and they seem relieved to have someone else to pay attention to. The man asks Nel to sit and she nods like he is pure salvation. They wave away his insistence that he should be going about his work and Nel pulls up a chair.

He considers as he approaches the table that maybe he could swing this to an advantage, give them a few prompts to drive the conversation in a place that ensures maximum payment and maybe even a bonus at the end of the day.

They beat him to the conversation starter and ask about Nel’s love life instead. Probably in need for hope that outside there exist love stories that don’t fall into the depths of familiarity and lose their wonder. The ones that stand the test of time.

Except that for Nel, there is no one which is the reason as to why he could afford to work late today. He tries to divert the questions and ask after them; remind them of better times when they were so heady in love they said yes to the rest of their lives together.

But they drone on ‘What’s she like?’, ‘I bet she loves your cooking.’

And Nel weaves a story for them because they seem to need it more than he does.

“We met on a cold afternoon in April.” she sighs and Nel makes up more detail. “a cold Tuesday afternoon. I had just gotten out of a real rotten interview. Didn’t even get the job. Sat next to each other in the bus and got off at the same stop. We went in to the same café, purely coincidence, I swear,” she chuckles, “She approached me and said I was following her then added a wink to it. And I said I would follow her to the ends of the world if it would earn me her attention. Her name is…” Nel blanks as he looks around the room for a clue.

“Can’t remember her name, lover boy,” He jokes as he sips his wine with a smug smile and she sneers.

“Oh I haven’t used it in a while. Since our second date she has always been ‘Sunshine’ to me. Or ‘Sunny.’” Nel saves the story.

“Ah, young love.” He says it like it is a distant land where you vacation once in a lifetime. And they both go quiet, probably thinking about that time. When their love was young and forever had nothing on it. Nel sees his opening and cashes in on it.

“Right,” a nervous chuckle there, “If you don’t mind my asking, what were your nicknames for each other?”

“No need to go into that now,” he says at the same time she whispers, “Flamingo and Mustang.”

The silence that follows stretches till it is thin enough to cut with a sigh. Nel gets back to his task of saving the dinner, his money. There is a story with the nicknames, Nel can feel but can’t decide how best to draw it out and moves on to other things.

“Well yeah. I guess we are caught up in young love then. But it is a good time though. If I could hold onto it forever, I would. You know, where every experience is heightened just because she is next to me. Like before her, I used to take my tea standing up and barely tasting it. I couldn’t wait to get to move on, but since we decided to make it a habit to have breakfast together, tea in the morning is one of the best things in my life. Seriously, who is the genius that thought up the rich idea of tea in the morning?!” Chortles all round as they resume their eating, “I savour every taste and notice every ticking second wishing that tea in the morning could turn into tea all day. I could write a thousand poems about tea with the sunrise at my back gazing into the eyes of the most beautiful woman.” He gives a short laugh. And they laugh along with him. “Sorry, sometimes I just get carried away.”

“That’s okay.” She smiles and he gives a curt smile that suggests he is thinking, ‘pure idiot, he doesn’t know that it goes so fundamentally wrong so soon.’

He can’t decide who of them was ‘Flamingo’ and who was ‘Mustang’, these romantic pet names followed their own rules. So he sticks to the safe ‘he’ and ‘she’, this will also help keep them at the necessary professional level.

“What was the best part of your days,” back to the mission, “Of course back when your love was still young and as ridiculous as ours?”  He refills their wine glasses.

They are not very forthcoming with information about themselves but Nel waits them out.

“The late night phone calls that would go on for hours.” He goes first, now with his phone mostly forgotten, “It was the part of the day I looked forward to with all eagerness.” He looks at her, like looks at her, and Nel feels himself shrinking away as he hears the coins hitting his account. She doesn’t offer her favourite part and Nel is forced to push on.

“So you know how it goes. The hardest part right now is having to say goodbye and counting the seconds throughout the night till I see her again. I want to make it more permanent. I know I have only known her for ten short minutes…pardon me,” he coughs, “I meant months. It feels like minutes though. And that doesn’t seem like a lot of time for most people, and certain people may have spoken out against it, but there is a certainty I feel deep down when I look at her. Like she is the one. It sounds absurd, I know, but I can’t help how I feel. I want to fall asleep and wake up with her by my side. So I’ll ask her to risk it all and spend the rest of her life with me.”

“Oh you are going to propose!” She beams.

“Yes ma’am,” Nel smiles shyly.

“Was it supposed to be today?” he asks.

“No sir, but soon. I have planned it all already. Keep making adjustments to it every day. Which is probably why I keep pushing it for later. I’m a walking basket of nerves.”

“Don’t I know it,” he guffaws and hits Nel on the back, “Do you have the ring with you?”

“Oh no, can’t risk anything happening to it. I’ll pick it from the jewellery store that morning. But I already picked it out if that’s what you mean.”

“How are you going to go about it?” she asks, leaning in a little.

“I’m going to take her to the place where we first kissed.” Nel gives them time to react to this bit of the story, nodding his assent to the lady’s “Aww, how lovely. Very romantic,” and smiling wickedly at the gent’s “You devil, that’s how you do it.”

“Yes,” Nel finally continues, “It is a special place for us. It’s where she first told me she loved me too so I hope to draw on that memory to secure a ‘yes’.” They both nod and sip some more of their wine. “I hope I won’t make a fool of myself then. I’m writing and rewriting the poem I want to read to her before I pop the question.” Nel also leans a little, falling in love with the story he is weaving, “The evening will go something like this, we’d get tea at the café where we figured this thing was worth a shot. Then we’d walk to the place with me telling her my vision of our future and letting her drop her ideas. She’ll think this is all hypothetical because we’ve done it all before. We’ll get to the place, I’ll play our song on my phone and we’ll dance. On her last turn, I’ll drop to my knee and pull out the box. I’ll recite the poem, hopefully it will be ready by then, then I’ll ask her the question.” They say nothing but keep the same ridiculous, jaw-hurting smiles on their faces. “I hope it’s not so much of a cliché,” Nel laughs nervously and wrings his hands, “I want it to be very special for her.”

“I think it’s a wonderful plan,” she says, “It has to be a ‘yes’.”

“Brilliant,” is all he ventures.

“If you don’t mind my asking…” Nel leaves it hanging. It’s almost time for desert and then he’ll have to go away. His money was on the line. If need be, he’d beg them to re-enact the proposal to kick-start all the right feels. Was there ever such a thing as a love beyond redemption? Nel didn’t even want to think of that.

“How did our proposal go,” they both finish and Nel nods.

They start to tell their story and somewhere in those details they find themselves, they remember what that love felt like – familiar and novel all at once. Their hands reach for each other as their words trip over each other, racing to the finish where it is a ‘yes’ and ‘I do’s all round. They dive deep into each other’s eyes and Nel leaves the table unnoticed. Maybe he should take a photo to ensure that bonus.

Nel returns with their desserts.

 “Bet she has missed having you for the day. Hasn’t she, with work and all that.” She chances some empathy his way.

“Oh we’ll be sure to make up for it all night.” he lays the insinuation on heavy and smiles behind his glass when they throw knowing glances their way that hold a promise of more. “Dessert will be served on the couch. You could finish off your night with a movie or talk for insane hours or have your own private dance or a game. Chef’s pick leans mainly towards a game.” They laugh a little and he helps her out of the chair.

“I had my doubts about tonight.” He says and Nel nods.

“I could tell. But you know if you really liked it,” he hands over his business card, “maybe I could do this again for you sometime. Or you could recommend my services to someone else.”

“And perhaps you could bring Sunny too, to just sit and chat,” the lady continues to poke her way into his private affairs. Nel gives a tight smile in response, there was no ‘Sunny’ to bother.

They walk off to the living room, her hand firmly in his. Nel counted that as a win for a couple that could barely stand to look at each other, about thirty minutes ago. It doesn’t answer where their love got lost and all he can do is hope they never wind off on that road again. Nel leaves them to their quiet evening and goes up to clean up.

In putting everything away, Nel comes across a frame turned upside down in one of the drawers. He turns it round to see a wedding photo of the two. They can’t take their eyes off each other in the shot, sharing a secret that no one else in the world can get in on. The picture freezes the moment where she threw her head back in laughter and her hands on his face, like it was the happiest day of their lives. He is paused with a cocky smile, like he was the luckiest man in the whole world. 

Nel places it on the counter, near the sink and below the window. They were sure to see it there if they ever bothered to come into the kitchen, remind them of that moment frozen for all eternity.  

And he leaves through the back door with drunken laughter and odd giggles in the background.