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Mr. Canada’s Visit Part 5: Cooking at Larry’s

January 27, 2017

My favorite part about Mr. Canada’s visit was the night of Larry’s party.

When I knew that he was coming I asked Larry if he would have one of his dinner parties. Larry’s a great cook and he loves to make a big pot of something and have everyone over for wine and food. So we settled for the 29th. Since he had to work that day, Larry tasked his new girlfriend, Tracy with the cooking. I like Tracy. When she met Mr. Canada the night before at the Blue Moon and found out he was a chef, she asked him if he wanted to come over and help her. He asked me what I thought about it and I said, “sure.”

So the next afternoon I packed up my laptop and we went over to the compound. Tracy had her three kids there. Her son sat on the couch playing a video game on Larry’s big screen tv and the two adorable little toddler girls took turns crawling in and out of the doggie door.

I set up my laptop on the big kitchen table and starting working on some freelance work and watched as Mr. Canada naturally took over the kitchen. Tracy was thrilled to have someone to cook with and talk shop. Apparently her ex didn’t like cooking with her.

She would periodically handle some need of one of the kids and I happily helped her out, enjoying being around bubbly little girls.

I had seen Mr. Canada cook already in my kitchen but there was something about watching him in Larry’s kitchen…..he was in his element and since he was sort of teaching at the same time, he talked through what he was doing. It was nice to see him doing what he loved.

He was leaning over a bowl, slowly smushing a potato through a strainer when I looked up from my computer, took my glasses off and watched him for a minute. He was such as odd combination of traits. Tall and handsome. Goofy and silly. Obnoxious and fearless. Tinder and sentimental. He had a voice that could go screechingly high when he was loud……..”but why” he would demand…..and get low and smooth when he was quiet, saying beautiful things to me in my ear. He made me feel like no one had before. I’ve never felt so desired as when I was with him.

I watched his face as he concentrated on smushing potatoes. He looked at me and said, “What?”

“Nothing,” I said.

I think that’s when I really fell for him. At that moment. Something switched. The part of me that might have been holding back, unsure and frightened, decided to let go and jump off the cliff with him.

After a while, I went home to shower and change. When I got back, Larry was home and he was fixing something under the sink. The refrigerator was pulled out from the wall.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Is there some kind of plumbing emergency?”

“Yes, a big one.” Larry replied.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Mr. Canada said lounging on a bar chair, “but whatever it is is causing Larry to put wine in pot.”

Larry had begun to empty a few boxes of wine into a large pot and apparently Mr. Canada was at the bottom of his first or second glass of wine and feeling pretty good. I immediately recognized that look on his face. Drunk Mr. Canada was back.

“Who gave Mr. Canada wine?” I asked. Tracy put her hands up in surrender. “Erik gave it to him.”

When Larry was all done, he pushed the fridge back and revealed what he had been up to. He pushed a glass against the lever for water in the freezer door and wine poured into his glass.

“Oh my God,” I said. “Larry’s Jesus. He turned water into wine.”

For the rest of the night, when Larry saw me pouring wine from a bottle he would direct me to the wine tap on the fridge. “Yeah, but I know what you put in there,” I said. The bottles had the good stuff.

Guests arrived and Tracy, Larry and Mr. Canada revealed their meat extravaganzas. Garlic and rosemary crusted prime rib and black pepper crusted tenderloin wrapped in bacon. I think there was some cheese and bread involved but nothing green to be seen.

Everyone loved the food and complimented Mr. Canada, who was primarily responsible for it’s preparation. It was quite delightful. One of Larry’s friends was extolling the virtues of the meal in very loud and very cajun terms. “Dat meat is tinda tinda.” It doesn’t make sense if you’re not cajun. 

It was an eclectic group of people, including Amy and Lisa. I invited Mr. Canada onto the balcony. There were other people there, smoking. We went off to a corner and I kissed him and told him how happy I was that he was there.

It had not been long after his arrival that he had proclaimed that he loved me. Of course, I thought he was crazy. In that moment, part of me wanted to tell him I loved him too, but I wasn’t ready yet.

When I was standing next to Erik, he told me he liked Mr. Canada. That they had chatted when I was gone. About rowing and traveling and me. And Mr. Canada really liked them too. That made me very happy.

I was standing next to him in front of the sink, my arm around his waist when he said, “Go mingle with your friends.”

“I can see them anytime,” I said. “I want to be next to you.”

He kissed me and Larry said, “Get a room.”

It was a night I will never forget.

When I fell asleep that night in his arms, I felt content and happy.

 

The next day, we were intertwined on the sofa. He held my face kissed me and said, “I love you so much, Marie.”

“Oh Mr. Canada,” I said. “I love you too.”

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From → Rantings

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