Cooking Lessons

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just like to borrow them sometimes.

A/N: Kirsten and Ryan, together or separately, are my favorite characters. This was part of my hiatus assignment from the wonderful TWoPers with whom I'm priviledged to share lots of wonderful discussions and analyses. Special props to Wolfie, who came up with the idea during a discussion about potential Chrismukkah presents.

When Kirsten entered the kitchen on the morning of her 40th birthday, she wasn't in the best of moods. 40 is not old, she told herself, it's just...not young. Come on, it's not like you're about to be shipped off to a nursing home any time soon. What's the big deal? It's just a number, and I'm good with numbers. I can do this.

"Happy Birthday, mom!" Seth threw his arms around her excitedly, almost knocking her off her feet. When had he gotten so tall? She looked over his shoulder to see Sandy and Ryan, side by side, holding coffee cups in identical postures and grinning like a pair of maniacs. Seth stepped back and, with a flourish, presented her with a small, prettily wrapped box.

"It's from me and dad, but Ryan helped pick it out...I didn't know what to get you, I was desperate and Ryan suggested we go down to Laguna Beach and see what we could find...I was gonna get you another robe from Nordstrom's but...and dad was thinking about...well, honestly, I don't know what dad was thinking, but...Ryan already had his own present for you, which you'll get in a minute, but he totally had this cool idea for us...and then we found it..." Seth was babbling as she unwrapped the box and opened it, to find nestled within a small, delicate, filligree brooch dotted with semi-precious stones the exact blue color of her eyes. It was the same one that had caught her eye in the window of the little gallery a few months ago. Something, she thought at the time, that she would have worn in a different life.

"Oh, Seth, boys...it's beautiful! Thank you..." Visions of her younger self flitted through Kirsten's mind. Thunderstruck at her first Art History lecture, the first time she had seen true beauty, the design of the universe encapsulated in a small pencilled drawing. Head back, hair tossing in the wind, scarves flying as Sandy twirled her around and around the quad. Rushing to class after a late night at that blues club in North Beach, clutching the coffee that Sandy had gotten up early to fetch for her. The mad happiness of finally saying, "Yes! Yes!" to his oft-repeated question. The night Seth was born...the dimness of the hospital room, the pain, until finally she heard Sandy say, in a thick tone that she had never heard before, "Ohhhh...honey, look, look, look at our son!" She felt a sharp pang that she recognized as a sort of mourning for the loss of that girl, and vowed to herself that she would wear the brooch every chance she got. Give the ladies something to talk about! Kirsten Cohen wearing semi-precious stones! Quelle scandale!

"Ryan's got a present for you too, mom, and it's one that I hope we will all be sharing in in the near future because it's about time, and we all deserve it, and…"

"Seth, shut up! You're going to ruin it," Ryan warned, as he stepped forward and handed her a small envelope. She raised an eyebrow at him quizzically and opened it, pulling out a sheet of heavy cardstock that read:

This card is redeemable for

cooking lessons

from

Chef Ryan Atwood

grilled cheese a specialty

Cooking lessons? She raised her eyes from the card and looked at Ryan, who raised his eyebrows slightly as if to say, "Well? I'm game if you are." She blinked slowly, hearing Seth babbling something in the background about old dogs and new tricks, and Sandy admonishing him with, "Seth, your mother is neither old nor a dog…"

"Cooking lessons? I, Ryan, sweetie…that's so thoughtful, but I…" She couldn't remember the last time she'd undertaken an activity for which she was so woefully ill-prepared, and the thought of it made her more than a little nervous. She saw something move behind Ryan's eyes, then, a flicker of disappointment, maybe a little bit of shame, and it broke her heart. "That sounds wonderful! I…I can't promise you'll make a cook out of me, Chef Ryan," Seth snorted and buried his nose in his coffee cup, "but at least you're willing to try." She turned around in mock indignation and shook her finger at Sandy, "Which is more than I can say about some people in this kitchen!"

Sandy laughed, hands up, palms out in a conciliatory gesture and said, "Honey, honey…all I said was that Thanksgiving wasn't the day for you to learn! Today's not Thanksgiving! I even changed the batteries in the smoke detector for you! And Seth programmed the fire department number into the speed dial! We support you, honey, you know that!" As he and Seth passed by Ryan on his way out of the kitchen, Sandy whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, "You're a better man than I am, son. Just press *4 if there's an accident…"

Ryan had been following this exchange with his eyes, and as the kitchen emptied his gaze rested on hers again. "You sure you want to do this? 'Cause, I just thought…I mean, we can skip it if you want…"

Kirsten laughed then, feeling strangely lightheaded and adventurous, and said, "I should be asking you that question, Chef Ryan! Feeling brave today?"

"Brave enough, I guess…" and he gave her one of his rare, true smiles.

Seth burst into the kitchen again and said, "Oh wait, I forgot! Dad and I have another present for you…actually, we got one for Ryan, too. It just might save his life today, or at least the life of that new shirt." He drew his hands out from behind his back, holding an apron in each hand. "Mom, we felt this was appropriate for you," he said, as she unfolded the apron, which read: "Help Wanted". Ryan snickered and Seth turned to him and said, "Not so fast, my friend! We got this one for you. I wanted to get the Batman logo one, 'cuz it was a lot cooler, but for some reason, dad insisted on this one. I have no idea why," he finished airily, wearing his, "I'm so innocent I can barely stand myself" face and proffering the other apron.

"Oh, dear G-…Seth! There is no way I'm wearing this, like, ever!"

"What? What is it?" asked Kirsten, enthusiastically tying her new apron around her waist. "Let me see!"

Cheeks pink, Ryan turned the apron around so she could see the picture on the front. Snoopy, in all his glory, ecstatically engaged in his "Suppertime" dance.

"Oh, that's so cute! Seth, don't try to act like you didn't help choose this! You remember, you used to be obsessed with Snoopy. We had to take you three or four times every Chrismukkah to see "You're a good man, Charlie Brown". You dressed as Snoopy for Halloween three years in a row…you played that CD until I thought my head would explode!" Seth, who had been frantically making "cut" motions across his throat the whole time Kirsten had been talking finally said, "Mom, mom, mom…less talking, more cooking! I'm sure Ryan's not interested in my sordid past as a strange and lonely child with an active imagination."

Ryan raised his eyebrows and dead-panned, "Actually, I'm fascinated."

"No! No, You. Are. Not. Fascinated. You are Emeril, you are Jaime Oliver, you are Bobby Flay, but what you are not is fascinated…" Seth was rapidly backing out of the kitchen, waving his arms and making desperate, "don't even go there, dude" expressions at Ryan. He smirked in response, and then turned to Kirsten. "OK, you ready to get started?"

"Young man, we are not starting anything until you put that apron on. If I have to wear mine, you have to wear yours, deal?"

"Uh…couldn't you just take yours off?"

She put her hands on her hips and stared at him. "Or, I guess I could put mine on…"

Kirsten laughed again. She hadn't felt this free in a long time.