Ever since Eduardo and I had dinner with Lucinda we’d been bickering. I wanted to chalk it up to the difficulties getting used to living with someone when you are used to living by yourself. I didn’t like to think that our minor disagreements meant any more than that.

In an effort to make things better I decided to try to up my wife game by making him a special dinner. If it seemed a bit fifties housewife, I didn’t care. Something told me my husband would appreciate the gesture.

And he certainly went above and beyond performing his husbandly duties every night. Most mornings I awoke with a sweet soreness between my legs reminding me how good I had it in the bedroom.

I could see now why Eduardo must have wanted a wife so desperately. The man had a huge sexual appetite and a cock just as large. Even when we argued, we always found a way to come together in bed at night before we went to sleep.

There was something so intimate and rich about our sexual relationship that I almost wondered if I bickered with him during the day to keep a little distance between us. I wasn’t used to the kind of intimacy we shared in each other’s arms.

Tonight I was making beef Wellington—succulent beef hopefully cooked to perfection in a puff pastry along with a vegetable.

As I put the food in the open, I heard Eduardo’s key in the door.

He walked in looking haggard, but smiled when he saw me.

“You’re home! How was your day?” My enthusiasm was sincere. I had genuinely come to look forward to seeing him in the evenings. Even if we did sometimes fuss at each other.

“Long.” He set his briefcase down and collapsed in his favorite chair. For some reason I thought it was completely adorable that he had a favorite chair. It was blue and on the ugly side. But he loved it, and that was what mattered. My comfy old bathrobe wasn’t exactly stylish.

“I’m sorry. Can I get you something to drink? I’m making dinner now.”

His eyes lit up. This was only the second time I cooked dinner since we got married so it was more of a treat than an everyday occurrence. I envisioned a time when I would cook more frequently. I did love being in the kitchen, but these days I was so busy trying to get the bakery going that by the end of the day I usually didn’t have much energy left.

“A drink would be great, thanks. What’s for dinner?”

“Coming up.” I headed into the kitchen to get a beer out of the refrigerator, calling over my shoulder, “Beef Wellington and asparagus with hollandaise sauce.”

When I came back into the room and handed him a beer he said, “Thanks. That sounds delicious. I feel like you spoiled me with a fancy meal like that. But please do.”

I laughed. “Well it’s the least I can do for you. The way you spoil me,” I said pointedly.

He gave me a knowing grin and his mood had already improved, and I congratulated myself on that. In moments like these I felt like we had the potential to be the happiest married couple in the world. I pictured us celebrating our fiftieth wedding anniversary, surrounded by a dozen grandchildren.

I sat down next to him. “You said it was a long day. Dare I ask?”

“It’s no big deal. Just some trouble with a few disgruntled vestry members who don’t like anybody else having more power than they do so they like to make my life miserable.”

“Ugh, I hate that. That’s one of the reasons why I am so looking forward to working for myself, not having to deal with crappy coworkers.”

He nodded. “I hear that, but then you may have to deal with difficult employees. And then Kay’s husband George checked himself into rehab which is great because we want him to get help for his substance abuse. The AA meetings don’t seem to be doing the trick, but it does make it harder for her to get childcare because he helped pay for it. So, her mother is going to have to come in from Lake Charles to be able to take care of the twins while she’s at work.”

“So, he was taking care of the kids?”

“No, but he worked construction, and if he’s not working she doesn’t have enough money to send them to daycare.”

“Got it. Well let’s hope once he gets the help he needs everything will start to improve for them. It seems like she loves him a lot.”

Eduardo nodded. “She must. I’m not sure I would be as patient as she has been.”

“I’ll remember that before I become an alcoholic,” I teased.

He placed a hand on my knee. “I think if you were going to become an alcoholic, you would’ve already done it, honey.”

I liked that—the casual way he connected with me through touch. The way he called me honey so casually like we had been together for years.

“You’re probably right. I’ll be back in a bit. I need to go start the vegetables. Be back in a few.”

As I went into the kitchen, he reached for the TV remote, turning on a sports channel.

I busied myself preparing hollandaise sauce atop the stove and steamed the asparagus. While everything cooked, I set a pretty table with some of the new dishes and flatware we’d gotten as wedding gifts, and I added some cloth napkins.

A half hour later, we sat down to dinner. Eduardo took my hands in his and blessed our food. It was something he always did and I was beginning to appreciate the custom. It was just one more way that I felt connected, not only to him, but also to a higher power. I might not be ready to go evangelizing yet, but I was adjusting to the religious rituals that made up my new life. This Sunday I even planned to go to church.

Baby steps.

Near the end of our meal I asked, “Anything good on the sports channel?”

He shook his head.

“Anything about Nick or the Fever?”

He grinned. “Careful. It sounds like you might be becoming a fan.”

“Of course I’m a fan. He’s my brother-in-law, right?”

Eduardo nodded. “I guess he is. That seems really weird though.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. “And speaking of the Barnes family, I had an unusual visit today.”

Eduardo gave me a funny look. “Where?”

“At the bakery.”

“I thought that’s where you were all day, but who was your visitor?”

“Lucinda.”

Eduardo made a growling noise.

That wasn’t what I’d been expecting. “What’s wrong?”

“That woman! She’s infuriating.”

“Just because she came to visit me? That bothers you that much?”

His hand resting on the table balled into a fist. “She’s so intrusive. So manipulative and controlling. I don’t need that in my life. We don’t need that.”

“Okay.” I hadn’t expected him to get this upset before I even told him about her offer. Now I dreaded telling. At the same time, I knew if I was going to attempt to create a TV show with Lucinda, I had to tell him about it.

Steeling myself for his response, I just blurted it out. “She made me an offer I’m not sure I can refuse.” I paraphrased the famous mafia movie in hopes of lightening the tone of the conversation.

“Oh, I’ll just bet she did. What are you talking about?”

I gulped. His anger seemed highly exaggerated for the situation.

“She offered to make a TV show with me.”

Setting his elbows on the table he dropped his face in his hands. “She what? What kind of TV show?”

“A cooking one probably. She said we could talk to her developmental programming guy and see what he came up with. But Eduardo, she’s talking about paying me three hundred thousand dollars just for the first season. She said that if the networks pick it up for a few seasons we can make millions.”

He stared at me. “You know what she’s doing don’t you?”

“Trying to help me.”

“No. She’s trying to get to me through you.”

I shrank back in my chair. “Thanks a lot.”

Couldn’t he even entertain the possibility that maybe I was talented enough to be worthy of a TV show?

“Come on, Chloe, has she ever tasted anything you’ve ever made?”

“No,” I admitted quietly.

He threw his napkin on the table. “See? She has no idea if you can cook your way out of a paper bag, but she’s willing to pay you three hundred grand to be on her TV show. You don’t find that a little suspicious?”

For the second time that day I felt my heart sink. “Well you know, I am a good cook. In fact, you’ve told me that yourself. Maybe she trusts your judgment, and maybe all I really need is a chance to prove myself. Sure, I might fail, but I could just as easily become a success. Don’t you understand, Eduardo, this could open up a whole world for me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“TV chefs. They can open their own restaurants, sell products. Once you have a name, you can write your own ticket. I can’t believe you’re suggesting I say no to this once in a lifetime opportunity because you don’t like Lucinda!”

“Chloe, it has nothing to do with me not liking Lucinda. It has to do with me wanting to protect you from a predatory person. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“You know, Bishop, I have been used by people most of my life, particularly in how I’d had to earn a living and never once during that time did anyone offer to pay me that kind of money. So you can just keep your pride and your suspicions and I will do what I need to do to further my career.” I stood up and started to clear the dishes.

“So, you’re spending all this money renovating this bakery and you’re going to what . . . run off to LA to be a TV star?”

I snatched up his plate and stormed out of the room, yelling, “Maybe I am!”

Dishes clattered in the sink as I tried washing them off. How dare he expect me to pass up an opportunity like that simply because he has some sort of issue with his long-lost family? From what I could tell they’d never done anything to him. At least the ones that were alive.

When I walked through the living room towards the bedroom he sat in the same chair watching the same sports show. He didn’t look up when I passed by.

Fine, I thought as I closed the bedroom door behind me.

I took a shower and got ready for bed. By that time I’d cooled down and I kept hoping that Eduardo would come through the door and we could make up. I wanted to get back to the newlywed-like nights we’d been sharing.

But I waited and waited, and he never came. Finally, I picked up a book and read until I fell asleep. When I woke up in the middle of the night the blue numbers on the clock telling me it was 3:50 a.m., I noticed he still was not next to me. I could’ve gone in the other room and gotten him off the couch, but a stubborn streak inside me wouldn’t budge. Instead, I flipped off the light and fell back asleep alone.