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"That's okay. I can."
I gulped, and I eyed his tall frame, the muscles moving under the sleeves of his shirt as he kept cooking the eggs. I guessed that he could.
He stirred it all together. I should be revolted by the idea of scrambled eggs stirred in bacon grease, but my stomach didn't care. It just wanted to eat something. "Are you ready yet?"
He open a cabinet to get a platter out again. He took the enormous quantity of eggs and put them on it.
"Yup."
He got out a serving spoon, and I served myself first. He took the rest of the eggs. He went back to the kitchen and brought me the plate of bacon. I took 5 slices of it. I bit into a crispy, fattening, salty slice. Bliss filled me.
"You're a good cook."
He laughed. "It's not a big deal. You're just easy to please."
I was the opposite of easy to please. I was the pickiest, most high maintenance girl that I knew. But somehow, here in the morning with this farmer boy, I felt like a different person. There was no one to impress here. It was just me and Jimmy. I didn't mind coming here. It was almost like a retreat from normal life. I would have told you even a few days ago that going to a house without any Internet or cell phone reception would be torture. Instead, it was a pleasant surprise. I had someone who cooked for me, and I washed up after. I could feel myself sinking into a rhythm after two meals, when we could work together as perfect partners.
No. I was only staying for six more nights.
"What are you doing today?"
"I'll probably be working outside. There's a lot to do in the barn. I will come in for a late lunch, around two or three. And you?"
That was a good question. One of my suitcases was filled with art supplies.
I looked at the quality of the morning light. "I think that I will paint."
"Sounds good."
I cleared the plates from the table. I went up to my room. I put on painting clothes. I set up my easel in the kitchen. I did not intend to make anything serious. However, there has to be some way to pass the time. I thought about the view out the window as my jet landed in Madison. It was beautiful, cold. It was unwelcoming. At the same time, there was the promise crops during the summer. It was a place where Demeter had turned her face away.
I started sketching it on my sketchpad. There was the curve her hips as she had her back to the desolate wintry wasteland. Behind her, corn was withered into the little stubble that I could see trying to poke through the cover of snow.
That was right, but there was something missing. I frowned at the sketch.
It was missing the sunlight. It was very bright in Wisconsin, especially with the reflection of the sunlight off of the snow. You had to be as afraid of snow burn as you would be sunburn if you lived in Los Angeles. I decided that the sun would be huge. It would be appropriate for how big the sun was here in Wisconsin.
I started drawing it on my canvas. I knew what I wanted. They were just the bones of what the finished product would be. When I was finished transferring my idea to the canvas, I was very pleased. It wouldn't be one of my best, but it would be something fresh and new.
I got out my paints, and I begin to mix colors that I wanted on my palette.
The morning flew by. When I heard the front door open, I looked at the clock. It said 2:30 PM.
I hastily turned my canvas around so that nobody could see it but me.
"Are you ready for lunch?"
"Yup, coming right now."
I walked into the kitchen, and his back was to me as he pull things out of the fridge. I admired how broad his shoulders were. He looked like a linebacker or maybe a quarterback. These corn-fed Midwestern boys had something to them.
"How does steak sound?"
"That sounds great."
I set the table, and I heard that delicious sizzling of the steak on the stove.
When he took the steak out of the pan, he added diced potatoes and onions. He sprinkled some black pepper and salt all over it. It smelled really great, and I took a good sniff of the scent.
