AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chris finds glasses, opens the wine, and sits at the counter, a safe distance away from knife activity, while I work on the vegetables.
I glance up from my pile of minced mushrooms and see Chris staring at me. “What?”
“Are you a trained chef? Because I would be missing two fingers if I tried to do that.”
“No, but I took a knife skills course. Actually, Zoe and I took it together.”
“Okay, smarty pants,” he says, twisting the cap off the wine. “Why do you use that knife?”
I explain while I work, and Chris pours me a glass, leaning across the counter to put it next to my workstation. He asks questions while I work and listens intently. The topic wanders from my knife skills to cooking, my yoga, my plans.
It’s domestic in a way that I’ve never experienced before. Kit and I were high school sweethearts, and before Zoe was born, we lived with my parents. When we moved out and Zoe was young, meals were quick. I wasn’t a vegan, and it was all about whatever I could get on the table the fastest.
Then, when Zoe was growing up and I was trying to eat healthy foods, it was all about teaching her good habits. Just the two of us. She loves cooking just as much as I do now, and while I expect she isn’t a strict vegan, when she’s home from college, we try out new recipes together and work in the kitchen, a well-oiled machine.
This here, with Chris, is something different. His gaze is intense like I’m under scrutiny. It’s almost too much. It feels intimate, cooking for him.
I try to ease his attention. “If you’re renting this place, where do you actually live?”
He thinks about it for a bit too long, just enough to make it weird. “London,” he finally says.
“Is that for work?”
“Yeah. There’s a lot going on in London, and it’s a bit of an epicenter. Plus, I can fly anywhere from there.”
“But you’re German?”
“Yes.”
“What brings you here, then? Why rent a place out in the middle of nowhere?”
Chris raises his voice as I scrape the onions and mushrooms into the pan, and it sizzles. I turn the heat down, not used to a fancy copper pot like this one. “I’ve been struggling with my creativity lately. And I thought I could use a change of pace.”
“How long have you been here?”
He grimaces. “Four weeks.”
“And I take it things aren’t going well?”
“No,” he says. “But I’ll figure it out.” He says it with confidence, but I wonder how much he believes himself.
8
Chris
Watching Sara cook is amazing.I had no idea everyday people cooked like this.
With her focusing on what she's doing, she’s more willing to talk about herself, too, so I pepper her with questions. She tells me about her yoga videos and her friends, who she chats with almost every day—I’ve seen her sitting out on the back deck and video chatting in the early evenings sometimes.
The past few years of my life have been . . . not exactly isolating, because I am surrounded by people all the time, but the people I’m around are always demanding something of me. They’re my bandmates who want leadership and cooperation, or the roadies just trying to do their jobs, or the fans and media, people whose expectations are heavy.
Sara is the opposite. She’s fascinating, and her passion for yoga shines through. I remember once feeling that kind of passion. Hell, three months ago, I felt that kind of passion during our first tour after winning Eurovision, playing to packed venues and screaming fans.
That passion has slipped out of my fingers as I try to hold it tighter and tighter.
Sara puts a plate in front of me with a flourish. The chopped veggies and hummus are ready. She plucks a carrot up and scoops it into the hummus.
She talks about her Patreon and the struggle to get followers on YouTube, which parallels a little with the band and how we were putting songs out on music platforms before we got popular with smaller venues.
