Wednesday Stories: Satin
Pink, just as she wanted. She nodded in satisfaction as she admired the pink satin that hung from ceiling to floor. She squinted as the sun leaked through. It must be about 4pm, she thought. She took the roast out of the oven and arranged it on the cooling rack she had placed across the stove. She checked the boiling garlic and potatoes and turned to the island upon which she had laid out her ingredients.
She set about her baking as more sun leak in turning the kitchen orange. She scraped the vanilla beans from their pods and flicked them into the cream she had whipped. She carefully sliced the skinned peaches and began cracking the eggs, separating them placing the yolk in the white bowl and the whites in the mixing bowl.
That was what he had always liked about her. She had a system, with the kids, with the cleaning and especially in the kitchen. She would have all her steps planned in her head so she could execute efficiently. First the pastry, then the cream, then the merengue. Every time. He looked at his watch, quarter to. She would be laying out the table and pouring out the wine. He turned the keys. He popped his head into the kitchen as he walked past.
“Curtains have arrived huh honey?”
“What’s for dinner?”
He poured himself a whisky and sipped.
He nodded. Wednesdays, lamb shank and peach pavlova as predicted. He took another sip and glided up the stairs.
She was so perfect.
So easy. The clock struck six.
He smiled and slipped into the shower.
Right on the dot.