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Of Skylines and Home-Cooked Meals
Mia was mature enough to admit that she’d probably gotten in over her head just taking off to the Big Apple like she did. She’d thought after her time in Panorama City--and as a Power Ranger, no less!--that an even larger city would be nothing. But she was mature enough to admit that she was wrong, and that wasn’t the case at all.
There was a ruthlessness to the city that she hadn’t expected, and that had scared her at first. There were constantly sirens going off, far more police officers roaming about, watching the state of things than she expected or was accustomed to, and while she hadn’t ever been in the middle of anything, she heard enough horror stories to walk briskly down the streets, and avoid being out after dark as much as physically possible.
But Mia was also aware there was a life to the city that she hadn’t expected, either.
She’d heard people say the city never slept, but she hadn’t dreamed it could possibly be true. No matter what the day, regardless of time or weather, there was always somebody out and about, doing their own thing, living their own life, and Mia found that more beautiful than anything.
As her cooking classes began, and her teacher began to see how serious she was about this, he took her under his wing and began to show her some of his secrets. Curtis showed her the best places to get ingredients, what signs to look for to spot a bad thing out of the bunch, how to haggle prices.
She was getting better with each class, and with his small tips and tricks, she was becoming a force to be reckoned with. Gone were the overcooked meals and disgusting flavors of her time as a Ranger, instead replaced with flavors that melded beautifully on the tongue and gourmet spreads.
Like now, as she walked down the street in a pink t-shirt and pale gray sweatpants in the dim streetlights at five in the morning, the sky pinkening overhead in search of only the best ingredients for a special occasion. She paused at a corner, back to the light pole, and looked up. Soft gray clouds floated over the colors mingling, meling together. Blue up high, deep and dark, fading to a pale pink as the day began. The yellow below, cast by a rising sun backlighting the deep green of the tree line in the park. Golden edges to a red sun sliding up over the horizon.
She couldn’t help it; she smiled, and headed forward, the lights of the farmer’s market pulling her in.
~&~
Kevin rolled his neck, listening to the joints pop nearly simultaneously. With a quick breath of relief, he quickly but carefully folded his trunks and wrapped them in his towel along with his swimming goggles before placing them in his drawstring bag. He waved to his teammates, but didn’t move closer; as much as he loved his team and swimming, he had somewhere to be, and was eager to get there.
He walked briskly out the door into the early sunshine of the morning. His small apartment wasn’t but a couple blocks from here, so he set off for it. He had plenty of time, as he wasn’t expected until eleven, but there were things to do.
He needed to shower, to wash the chlorine scent off. He still had to decide what to wear, because even though he’d known Mia for a long time, had been through so much with her, he wanted to make a good impression. The only two Samurai Rangers still on the east coast, they’d grown closer in New York, even with their hectic schedules. They texted nearly all day, every day, and called each other when they could, even if it was only for a few minutes. Kevin could always count on a funny picture to brighten his day when things were getting to be too much. They grabbed a meal when they could--usually an early breakfast, when the sun was just beginning to rise, sometimes coffee, the rare lunch or dinner--but this was the first time Mia would actually be cooking for him, and, now that he thought about it, the first time either of them would be going to the other’s apartment. That made him uncharacteristically nervous, but he pushed it aside.
All of Mia’s hard work surely deserved at least a bouquet of flowers, and so he had to stop and get those, too.
He jogged up the steps, unlocking his door with practiced ease, and tossed his bag to the side. Rubbing a hand over his short hair, he took a deep breath, and went to get ready.
~&~
Mia swiped a sweaty strand of hair from her face, placing the lid back down on the pot. The fried chicken was finishing in the oven, getting perfectly crisp, and she could smell the herbs she’d used in the breading wafting about the apartment. Rosemary, mostly, with hints of sage and garlic. She had fresh corn on the cob boiling in a large pot on the back of the stove, green beans--she had those snapped herself!-- in front of that. Fresh lemonade chilled in the fridge, and a low-fat blueberry cheesecake rested on the bottom shelf.
She hoped, despite his strict diet and exercise regimen, that Kevin could forgive the fried chicken since the rest of the meal was fresh and healthy.
She pulled her oven mitts off, going to the small cabinet she kept her few plates in. She pulled two plates off the top shelf, studying them a bit. She liked to shop, that was true, but it was all small and thrifty. These had been her only splurge so far in New York, and one she couldn’t deny herself. The china was a soft, creamy color, with pale pink flowers and a rim of gold around the edge. They were too beautiful, and useful. She could imagine them in a small house somewhere, used for holidays and special occasions.
She placed them on the island, which was her only kitchen table to speak of, and got silverware and glasses out as well. Napkins followed, and she checked the food one last time before going into her room to get dressed. She had the perfect outfit laid out; white skinny jeans and a pink sweater, the knit large so as to not be too hot in the summer air.
She paused in the mirror, looking at her face, playing with her hair.
Maybe she’d do something different with it today.
~&~
Kevin felt like a fool for being so nervous as he stood in front of Mia’s apartment door. He tugged on the collar of his shirt--which after so much deliberation, was still his favored blue polo that he felt most comfortable in--and smoothed a wrinkle out of his ironed jeans, before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door.
Mia answered it almost instantly, grinning brightly, and yet Kevin was momentarily distracted by the mouth-watering scent coming from inside. Mia was ever-observant, and missed nothing, winking, “Smells good, huh?”
Kevin blushed slightly, nodding, “Definitely. Oh, these are for you!”
He pulled the bouquet from behind his back, and Mia cocked her head, smiling gratefully, “Oh, Kevin! You didn’t have to do that!”
“It’s the least I can do,” He smiled, holding the door open and following her in.
The red roses, green carnations, blue delphinium, pink lilies, and yellow daisies looked lovely in the crackled glass vase with it’s gold rim, and she set them right among the setup of plates and dishes, between the picture of Emily and Mike at the state fair, and Jayden and Antonio bundled up in icy Russia. Kevin’s eyebrows rose, silently impressed, and Mia grinned shyly, shrugging, “It’s not much…”
Kevin noticed the line of her slim neck, revealed by her hair clipped to the back of her head, then smiled warmly, “It’s more than enough, Mia. And I’m sure it’s going to be delicious.”
“You said that last time!” Mia scolded, smacking his shoulder playfully, “Go on, have a seat. I’ll get the food.”
He obeyed, sitting on the far side, as Mia lifted the covers from the baking dishes. She grinned, “So, we have fresh green beans from the farmer’s market by the wharf, corn on the cob from a farm in the northern part of the state, and rosemary, sage, and garlic fried chicken--finished in the oven!--for lunch!”
Kevin looked over the meal, his stomach grumbling loudly, and he laughed, “Looks delicious Mia! Your training paid off.”
Mia laughed, “We’re not samurai anymore!”
“Old habits die hard.”
~&~
Kevin was stuffed. It was all completely delicious, and he’d had a serving more than he probably should have. Washing it all down with the homemade lemonade, the perfect mixture of sweet and tart, was just phenominal. He leaned back in his chair as Mia cleared the dishes, and then looked at him hopefully, “Dessert?”
He exhaled, “I don’t know, Mia…”
“Oh, just a tiny piece!” Mia argued, and Kevin knew he had no choice. She tugged the fridge open, pulling the cheesecake out, and he stood, “Dishes?”
“That cabinet,” Mia pointed, looking for a knife to cut it with. Kevin pulled two small dishes down, and turned, placing them on the counter. There was whipped cream dotted atop the blueberry syrup, and he just couldn’t resist. He drug his finger through a dollop, and waited for Mia to turn around. As soon as she did, he wiped it on her nose, laughing at her bewildered face. She pouted, and he grinned, “I’ll get it.”
He leaned down, kissing it off her nose, and she blinked at him. Then she got a mischievous grin, swiping her own dollop, and put it on his lips. He yanked back, and she followed, throwing her arms around his neck before crashing her lips to his. He instantly wrapped his own around her, and kissed back. It was soft and deep, full of longing and need, and had them bumping into the island.
When he finally pulled back, dazed and out of breath, Mia chuckled breathlessly, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner when you had a chance, but this works just as well.”
He chuckled himself, “All you had to do was ask.”
She grinned blindingly, “Good to know. But you still have to try the cheesecake.”