Title: Foodplay (Clever, huh? Ugh. lol)
Rating: PG -just 'cause
Author: Heath07
Summary: Kirsten on "hunger" and midnight "snacks". Kirsten/Sandy
Disclaimer: I don't own anything...
Notes: I was bored. I started a drabble and before I knew it I had this...whatever it is. lol
Kirsten woke from a sound sleep, her stomach growling. She slipped on her robe and plodded downstairs making minimal noise.
Standing in front of the refrigerator door for a solid minute, letting the coolness envelop her, she looked for something to eat.
Kirsten didn't want to risk cooking something when everyone was sleeping and unaware, she saved the experimental recipes for the daytime when her sons and husband were fully dressed and prepared for an easy escape should a fire erupt.
Bagels seemed to be a good option. A tasty one, too.
She spread the cream cheese on thickly and tried not to think about all the calories. She consoled herself with the fact that it was the light brand and the bagels were whole grain.
She felt mildly guilty for eating without Sandy; he loved bagels. Jimmy, on the other hand, had never been too fond of them.
Sitting down on one of the stools around the island, something on the table caught her eye. Picking up the book, she felt her face flush and her hunger shift.
Kirsten writes her final essay in English Literature on Ethan Frome. The essay is about food. Food as a metaphor for sex, to be more precise. She doesn't let anyone else read it and hands it in.
To her horror, the professor reads passages out loud two weeks later as she squirms in her seat, praying for time to move faster...or some type of disaster to occur so she can get out of this situation.
The class is caught up in whistles and hollering by some of the more immature pupils, by the time he gets to the large chunk dedicated to "foreplay"-as it should be- and how "appetizers" act as starters that awake sexual hunger.
She slips out the back and waits until next class to ask her T.A. for her grade.
She gets an A.
The final break up comes the day before she must leave for college. She isn't a mess. It has been a long time coming and she doesn't feel the same way she used to. She can't lie about it anymore. Jimmy has all ready moved on. She will, too. She's heard the rumours about the girl from Riverside. Her only hope is that someone can make him happy the way she couldn't. He deserves that much.
Kirsten meets a nice Jewish boy the first day she arrives. Sandy. When he speaks to her, it's to her face and not her boobs. She likes that.
Two minutes listening to him speak and she realizes she's made a mistake. He's not a boy. He's a man. So different from Jimmy.
He's rough and unpolished, but charming. Quirky.
He has a great smile. An even better laugh.
He's smart. Funny, sarcastic. Sweet.
He's going to be a lawyer -the good kind, he assures her. She thinks she might want to marry him after ten minutes of looking into his eyes. Honest eyes. Blue, but so different from her father's eyes. She doesn't even mind that his eyebrows could have a zipcode of their own. They're powerful, refined.
She likes him. A lot.
They trade numbers. He calls when he says he will. And that makes her happy. Happier than she's been in a long time.
They see each other at parties and around town, trading quips and coupons. Sandy gives her a few tips on doing laundry when her whites come out pink and Kirsten shows him how to tie a tie on his first day at a job in an office.
They play a game of cat and mouse for months until he finally asks her out.
Sandy takes her to a French restaurant for their first date. It's too fancy; it reminds her of her father's stuffy parties...and Jimmy. He tenses when his pronunciation falls flat and she has to order for them. While he looks at his water glass and his cheeks redden she speaks fluently and tells the waiter to buzz off. They go to the burger joint down the street instead.
For dessert they split a sundae and talk about everything. Back at his place they share a kiss and she feels like her life has finally begun.
Kirsten was a lousy cook.
She knew it.
Sandy knew it.
Everyone knew it.
However, her ability in the kitchen had no baring on her ability in the bedroom. Vaguely, on her way back up to bed --the other half of the bagel on a napkin-- she recalled a paragraph from that essay she wrote so long ago, something about pickles and other phallic symbolism concealed in food and wondered if she might be hungry for more than just a midnight snack. By the time she reached the top stair she was starving.
Sandy was sitting up in bed when she poked back into the room. His eyes lit up at her sudden appearance.
Coyly, she set the snack on the night stand...and gave him the main course instead. They ate until they were both full.
Yeah. She had deserved that A.
end
