She's Not a Fan

Chapter 29

Saturday afternoon was a lazy afternoon.  The snow swirled madly outside.  Lots of shovelling ahead for tomorrow, but today Sarah could stay cozily inside and putter.

 Mike was coming for dinner tomorrow.  She put her hand on her stomach to settle the butterflies.  She could do something concrete and set the table.  It would mean one less thing to fuss over tomorrow.  Not that she minded fussing over a table. 

She had a bit of choice.  First off, the colour for the tablecloth.

Red?  No, too Valentine’s Dayish, too in-your-face romantic.

Black?  Too stark.

Pink?  Too feminine.

Pale Blue? Green?  Too summery.

White?  Too bland.

Yellow?  Too bright. 

Although, she did have one piece of yellow fabric that might work.  The darker burnt yellow was a background to printed black Chinese letters.   It looked classy, but she had no idea what was actually written on it.  Hopefully not something like “Eat this meal at your own risk” or “Bad luck to anyone who buys this without knowing what it says”.  She pulled it off the shelf, shook it out and draped it over the table.  Lovely, really lovely.  Finishing the edges wouldn’t take long.

Sarah hauled out the sewing machine and in half an hour had the seams pressed and sewn.  She draped it over the table and added black place mats, a scattering of small square candles in black and butterscotch and the bonsai plant from her bedroom in the center.  Perfect.  Cosy, intimate with a touch of romance and an aura of peace.  She’d hold onto that.

Now to decide what to serve.  Maybe a Chinese or Thai inspired dinner.  Something relatively foolproof that she could make ahead of time.  She didn’t want to spend an evening with Mike in the kitchen.  Although that did sound safe.

She flipped through recipe books.  A Thai Lemongrass soup looked easy and delicious.  Mango and spicy shrimp salad for the main course, star anise pork tenderloin, rice and snow peas.  She wondered how many calories a goalie has to eat.  Better pick up some dinner rolls, too.  And for dessert?  It was too miserable out today to go to the bakery, but she had seen a package of baked apples in filo pastry in the frozen food section of the grocery store.  It would be simple to heat them up and she could pick them up when she went grocery shopping.  She glanced outside.  If the snow ever let up. 

She went through the recipes and jotted down all the ingredients she would need to buy.  Sarah sat back and looked over the list. 

Mike was really coming over.  She was making dinner for him and they would talk.  It sent a shiver down her spine and had her heart racing.  She took two slow breaths to calm down.  For now, she could focus on not giving him food poisoning. 

Sunday dawned bright and clear.  A blanket of white snow a meter deep covered the driveway and walkway.  After breakfast, Sarah threw on old sweats, tugged on a jacket and boots and grabbing a hat, headed outside to shovel the driveway.  She waved to the neighbours as they all started to dig out from the storm.  Sarah scraped the snow down to the pavement and by the time she finished the walkway, the sun was beaming down onto the driveway, melting away any residual patches of ice.  Sarah chatted to the neighbours about the weather and then headed inside to shower and change. 

The grocery store was bustling.  Most people had heeded the advice to stay off the roads yesterday so the store was busier today.  Sarah worked her through the list, gathering what she needed.  The only item she couldn’t find was the lemongrass.

“Excuse me,” Sarah said to a young clerk unloading bunches of bok choy in the produce section. “Do you have any lemongrass?”

Without looking up, he responded in a bored voice. “Fresh or canned?”

“Ah, fresh.”

“Nope.  We don’t have any in right now.  Matter of fact, haven’t seen any in a while.”

“Oh,” Sarah said disappointed. “Is there any canned?”

“Nope. We don’t carry that either,” he responded without looking up.

“Crap.  It’s hard to make Thai lemongrass soup without lemongrass,” she mumbled ruefully.  She glanced at her watch.  She was already running behind and didn’t have time to pick another recipe.  Oh well, no soup today.

The clerk glanced over.  “They sell fresh lemongrass at the Asian Market on Rudder Street.”

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Thanks.”  She knew the little store.  She had cycled by it.  It was on a busy corner in the downtown core and parking was a pain, but it wasn’t far.  She checked the time again.  She may just have enough. 

Sarah paid for the groceries and after stowing them in the trunk, drove downtown to Rudder Street.  Traffic was busy, and some of the side streets were still snow covered and slushy.  The little side streets obviously weren’t a priority for snowploughs.

She came up to the Asian Market and slowed down, but the parking lot was full.  She circled around the block looking out for a parking space, but with the extra snow pushed up against the curb, cars were parked less efficiently and any space between them was too small to fit in.

Honestly, if she ever chose a super power, extra strength would win hands down.  She would be out there lifting those ill parked cars so she could fit in.  Look at all that wasted space.  She shook her head impatiently.  She arrived back at the Asian Market parking lot as another car pulled out.  Perfect timing.  She accelerated in to claim the spot. 

Shit.  It was reserved for pregnant women.  Sarah rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath.  She just needed to run in, buy one item and run out.  She would occupy the spot for less than five minutes. 

Except she wasn’t pregnant.  The spot was clearly marked.  Although, potentially she could be in the early stages of pregnancy.  With a bulky coat on.  Would anyone really know?  Would anyone really care?  

She sat biting her lip until the car behind her honked.  She looked up and saw a string of cars waiting to get into the parking lot. 

Fine. 

She pulled in, and kept her head down as she ran into the store. 

Alleluia, lemongrass. 

She paid for it and ran back to her car and accelerated out of the parking lot.  On the road back home she sat a little straighter.   There, she did it.  One small broken rule and the world didn’t end.  What wild thing could she do next?