THE FOOD OF LOVE

PROLOGUE

"Do we have to stay ALL night ?"  Isobel asked, hopeful she and her husband Rowan could leave this "party" soon.  It had lost it's spark already, and then some, if it ever had one in the first place.  It was Christmas Eve, and she would much rather be curled up in front of the fire with her new husband, lights out, drink in hand, gazing at the mesmerizing sparkle of the Christmas tree lights in the corner of their sparse living room.

They were at a neighbour's house party, having moved into the little house of their dreams just down the road, only a few months ago.  They were here because they were keen to get to know their neighbours, and to become part of this well known and well liked community.  They had taken Rowan's mother's advice, and had bought the worst house on the best street, modestly remodeling it as and when they could afford to.  The kitchen and bathroom were just about fit for human habitation, the rest of the house, not so much.  Yet.

Through backbreaking and gut wrenching hard work and sheer determination, plus their savings, they owned three small grocery stores placed strategically in the centre of burgeoning, but already thriving communities.  Rowan had wanted his stores to be a meeting place, a communal free for all where friends and neighbours could meet and chat, and get to know new friends and neighbours, and most importantly, to Rowan anyway, support and lift one another, help one another whenever, and however they could.  The spirit of Christmas, but year round.  That was his dream of a better life, a better neighbourhood, a better world.  He had even gone so far as to have a few little tables in the front corner of the shops by the window, where his patrons could sit and chat, and enjoy a free tea or coffee, encouraging the community hub he was becoming well known for being.  And this made him more than happy. 

Rowan was a handsome man by any standards, some would say pretty even, with dark caramel skin, and now in his mid twenties, he had dreads already to his backside.  He carried a swimmers build effortlessly, with broad, strong and muscular shoulders sloping to a slim waist.  Long slim legs finished off his 6 foot height.  College educated, with a business degree, an extrovert with a smile that always graced his face and a warm heart that beat in his chest, he had been, and was still to some, quite the catch.  And Isobel had caught him.  They met in college, and she reeled him in hook, line and sinker.  Not quite love at first sight, but it didn't take them long to realise that they were each other's "one."

Tall and willowy, with delicate, elfin like features, she was a blonde fairy like creature, but her sweet face and perceived vulnerability belied her steely determination and iron will.  She was as strong a woman, as Rowan was sweet a man.  She was pursued relentlessly in college by much more affluent and persuasive boys, who had more money and position and where-with-all than Rowan, that they could offer her all this and more.  But she made it very clear that she was only ever interested in kindness, intellect, emotional intelligence, and the mutual respect she found in Rowan.  No other boy ever really stood a chance.  

So, here this gorgeous young couple was, a few homes up the street from their own, at a neighbourhood party that was dying a slow and agonizingly painful death.  It wasn't quite midnight, and they desperately wanted to be in their own home to see in their first Christmas together.  

"Let's make our excuses and leave, shall we ?"  Rowan planted a soft kiss to Isobel's forehead.  Her eyes shone back at him with love and gratitude as she clung to his arm, kissing his shoulder.  

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"Not great", Rowan mused as he hugged his wife to him on this cold and frosty night as they walked the half a block home.  "But it was still good to go.  I liked Michael, he was funny as hell".  Isobel smiled, hugging him back.