The Food of Love

Lucien had gone to handle his case. Those poor teenaged girls so caught up in all that silly music. There hadn't been music like that when Jean was a girl. At least not any that her father allowed her to have in the house. She'd heard some rather exciting jazz records in her day, some wonderful tunes from America particularly, but this new rock-n-roll was something else. Quite fun, actually. All the repetitive, foolish words didn't quite catch her fancy but the rhythm and melody certainly did.

Earlier, he'd played about on the piano, which she always loved and would never admit, and made her sing with him. And despite his complaints about her vibrato, she'd really enjoyed singing with him. Standing beside him, folding the sheets while she sang, his endearing warble as he played the accompaniment right off the top of his head. He was a well-taught musician with a natural ability. What he lacked in his father's discipline and skill he made up for with passion and flair. If the doorbell hadn't interrupted them, Jean might have been tempted to ask him to play something else they could do together. It might have been so nice to stand there for a bit longer to sing with him. Perhaps even sit on the bench beside him, feel his warmth and lean against him just a bit…

But it was folly to consider such things. Even when she was alone, Jean couldn't allow her mind to wander that way. Best get on with her housework.

She finished folding and putting away the laundry while Lucien was out. She dressed the roast for dinner and watered her plants in the sunroom. All that was left for the day was the dusting. The sitting room desperately needed a once-over.

In an impulsive move, Jean decided to put on some music while she worked. She'd been humming that Bobby Lee song while she worked that day, but Lucien's lovely ballad version. And that only served to remind her of singing it with him. Quite enough of that.

She put on the only record within easy reach. Bobby Lee. That tune was quite catchy, goodness! And before she knew it, Jean was singing along and dancing about. For just a few minutes that afternoon, all alone in the house, Jean felt free and happy like never before. Having a bit of fun to herself was just what she needed to clear the cobwebs from her soul as she did the same to the furniture.

Lucien wouldn't be home for quite a while. Perhaps she'd put the record on once more.