To Love Somebody
A/N: I have a song recommendation to go along with this as you are reading: Nina Simone's rendition of To Love Somebody by the Bee Gees. There is a reference to her version in this chapter. You can find it via Spotify, YouTube or your music platform of choice. I highly recommend it.
Elsie bustles about her kitchen, peering into cupboards searching out just the right ingredients. She has decided that this could technically count as their fourth date; she has reasoned out that they have had a luncheon date (courtesy of Alice), a nice night at the Fox, dinner at the bistro, and now brunch. At least that is how she is justifying the feeling that she wants to cook for him, to have brunch at her place instead of some restaurant. She hopes that Charles will not mind, that she will not offend him by her presumptuousness; that he will not think her too forward.
She smiles as she changes the channel from Radio 4 to something she can sing to; she loves to sing while she cooks; it calms her nerves, sets the rhythm for her culinary tasks. She phones Thomas, begs off, and tells him that she needs to cancel their plans. He notes the happy, lyrical tone in her voice, notes that she does not sound sorry at all when she apologizes for waiting last minute. It doesn't take him long to figure out why his friend is canceling out on him, why she is humming along in the background while he assures her that it is all right and there are a hundred other things that he can take care of, things that he has put off. He knows that she is not really listening; he can hear her rummaging around, can hear the radio on in the background. "You know I ought to be offended," he says harshly, just to see how she will respond. "Umm, hmm," she says back. Thomas smiles. Elsie has not been this happily distracted in a while and he does not even need to ask the what, why, or who she is bumping him for. Thomas tells her that Charles (at mention of his name, Elsie asks, "How did you know?") had better be worth it and that she owes him a round of homemade crepes next time.
With Thomas sorted, she'll make it up to him, she's promised, Elsie sets about laying out the items she needs for her brunch with Charles. Fruit, eggs, sausage, mushrooms, cheese, a tomato, the ingredients for American-style pancakes with syrup, and juice. She wonders if he takes coffee or tea in the mornings. She's already had a large cup of tea and will have another with her brunch and orange juice. As she assembles the ingredients, she thinks back to Saturdays on the farm when she helped her mother ready breakfasts for the family. How her mother sang tunes from the war years while she cooked, while she taught Elsie how to organize the kitchen, assemble the family's favorite recipes. She remembers her dad sitting at the long farmhouse table, pipe between his teeth, newspaper in hand, foot propped on one of the rungs of his chair. Becky sat beside him, drawing, or coloring, playing with a doll or two. The easy banter between parents and children filling the air. She smiles fondly in remembrance, is thankful for the childhood she had, wonders if she will have the chance for such a scene with her own husband and children. Knows that she could have had it with Joe, that it was there for the taking, but that it was not really hers, it is the chance, the opportunity for some other woman. Her chance is yet to come she thinks.
The knock at the door comes precisely at 10 and she opens the door to find Charles standing there impeccably but casually dressed in dark jeans, a dark plaid shirt, and a cardigan. Perfect, she thinks for a nice Saturday morning. She asks him in, tells him that if does not mind she would like to cook for them, that she has a nice spot in her back garden where they can enjoy their food. She notices that he seems genuinely pleased, tells her that he does not mind at all, that he is quite handy in the kitchen himself if she would like some help. The pretty blush that flushes across Elsie's face is answer enough for him.
"You don't really expect me to wear this do you?" Charles asks, looking skeptically at the frilly apron that Elsie holds out to him. She laughs, holds the apron against his chest, motions for him to put it on.
"Come on, I dare you," she giggles, catching her breath. Never one to refuse a dare, Charles takes the apron and ties it around his waist. It is one of Beryl's old cast offs, something that Elsie found in the deep recesses of a cupboard drawer. She catches herself before she asks him to take a turn, to model it for her, but it is enough that he looks all domestically delicious.
They set about preparing their meal. As Charles slices the tomato, Elsie notices his attention to detail, that the slices are uniform, that he is humming softly with the radio as he goes about his task. She watches as he plates the tomato slices, delicately centered, and fanned out as if they alone are the centerpiece for their meal. He cubes the cheese, pops a bite into his mouth, and savors it.
"Would you like a bit?" he asks her, as he hold a piece of the cheese forward on a toothpick. She smiles and answers in the affirmative. She reaches up to take the toothpick but he surprises her, holds the bit of cheese just before her lips, feeds it to her. He smiles, a lopsided grin that makes her weak kneed. He turns back to his task while she stands there, just for a moment, struck by such a small thing as this. How this bear of a man, a man she has known only a short while, is gentle, strong, and stirring strong feelings in her.
Charles offers to mix the pancake batter, ladle it out onto the griddle as Elsie tends the eggs. They are standing so very close together in Elsie's small kitchen. Charles watches as she turns the eggs in the skillet, checks them to make sure that they do not burn, that they cook to fluffy perfection. He longed for times like this with Alice, simple, uncomplicated times. Honest and pure, without pretense. Just two people living life in contentment.
Elsie finds herself mesmerized by the man next to her. He has begun to hum along with the radio and she does not know if he realizes it or not. Does not know if he is even aware of the tune, the singer, or the lyrics. But Elsie, whose mind is a steel trap, knows the singer, knows the sultry tones and pangs of longing with which she sings the lyrics. It is the same longing that Elsie has, to love someone, to have the blinders lifted, to find a man who loves her for who she is, who she was, and who she still can and wants to be. Elsie knows that Joe would have been a good husband, treated her well. But she knows that Joe needs someone to help him run the farm and mother his child. Elsie knows that she could have been those things but she wants more. She wants a companion, someone with whom to share secrets, someone to snuggle with under the covers on a cold rainy night, someone to walk hand in hand with through the park, to make Saturday brunch with, some to share life with in every single way; a man who is interested in listening to her problems and her concerns and she wants something she never had with Joe, passion. She glances over to Charles, wonders if he is the man that she has been waiting for. She certainly feels stirrings of something, wonders if he feels the same.
"You know," Charles begins, "every time I hear Nina Simone sing this, well, it just…" he pauses, turns to look directly at Elsie.
"…I think that I know what you mean," she finishes, worrying her lip. "It is a very powerful song of life…"
"…and love. And what good is life without love," he finishes. And suddenly, the air in the room is filled with a static charge and Charles wants to reach out and touch her, even just to touch her hand, to feel her fingers interlace with his or to smooth his thumb across her cheek. He thinks that with Elsie he may be able to have everything that he has missed; he certainly wants the opportunity to find out. He is looking down at her, she is standing there, all high cheekbones, and deep blue eyes that are looking up at him, and plump lips, and he bends down slightly. He wants to kiss her, wants to take a chance, here in the safe confines of her house, but he stops just short. Finds that he isn't quite ready, is worried that he may offend her or that she may reject him, and he cannot face that. He remembers Beryl's advice to take things slow and steady. So instead of pressing his lips to hers, Charles makes some inane comment about burning the pancakes and just before he turns, he notices the ragged breath that Elsie releases and he realizes that he just might have missed his chance, that she just might have accepted his advance.
TBC….thank you all for continuing with this story. I appreciate your reviews, reblogs on tumblr, etc. x