The next instalment
Karen busied herself about the kitchen. First she made the ricotta gnocchi, mixing the ricotta, flour, eggs, parmesan cheese and a little mozzarella together in a bowl, seasoned with salt and pepper. She combined it, made it into a ball, wrapped in kitchen plastic and put it in the fridge. She thought about making the puttanesca sauce and decided to wait until she'd rolled out the gnocchi and cut it into pieces. Instead she reached for her iPhone and searched for Talking Heads on the music app and selected Little Creatures. Karen has been 17 when the album was released and while her passion in music was classical she sometimes craved the demotic energy of rock; besides the was attracted to the intelligence of David Byrne and, when a girl and young woman, she rather fancied him too.
She swayed her hips to the rhythm and did a few star turns of the kitchen. No one was watching, she felt free and unconstrained. The Heads' critique of consumer America was as pointed as ever, but it was when the album hit its penultimate song, Road to Nowhere, Karen was brought up, well, sharpish.
We're on a road to nowhere
Come on inside
Taking that ride to nowhere
We'll take that ride
I'm feeling okay this morning
And you know
We're on the road to paradise
Here we go, here we go
Am I on a road to nowhere? Karen wondered. Her thoughts turned to the previous night and her encounter with Allegra and the prospect of her dinner with Erika tonight. Erika is the woman she'd refused to take money from, someone for whom she had feelings and stirrings within that she could not put into coherent words. Maybe I'm on the road to Paradise and just haven't realised it yet, she wondered.
She wandering in to the large sitting and dining room and tidied it up. She puffed up the cushions on the chairs and sofa, straightened the magazines on the table in front of the sofa, and returned a dildo and a tube of super glide lube to the drawer under the table. I'd never have left something like this laying about a year ago, she unbraided herself, and then she consider that a year ago she hadn't owned that eight inches of silicone pleasure. She felt herself blush. Her tidying became more furious as she straightened, banged and pushed the room into the shape she wanted. Next, her bedroom needed the bed being made. Fresh lightly-starched linen sheets, she thought, and immediately went to the linen cupboard for a pair. Erika will like these, she though. So nice the feeling of fresh linen on one's skin. In the bathroom she laid out a fresh set of towels and cleaned up from her morning bath.
*
Later that afternoon Karen began the preparation for the meal. She retrieved the ball of unformed gnocchi from the fridge. She cut it in half and placed one portion on a heavily flour-dusted surface and began to roll it into a thin snake, a little bit larger than the diameter of her index finger. Once she had achieved the desired thickness she used a pastry cutter to cut the snake into inch and a half long pieces. She placed them on a lightly dusted tray and covered with a tea towel. The remaining lump of gnocchi she prepared in the usual way, placed in a bag, and put it in the freezer for another meal. She tidied up and then set about to make the puttanesca sauce. She had a recipe she liked for this, and it consisted of anchovies, garlic, chilli, which you fry in four tablespoons of olive oil until the garlic slightly browns. To this she added a tin of tomatoes, two tablespoons of capers and 20 pitted black olives, and brought the combined sauce to a boil, simmering it for 15 minutes. All was done, she'd trow together a green salad later, and it was 5 pm.
Karen had bathed in the morning so she didn't really need to wash again but she decided on a short shower. She stripped and put her shower cap on, ran the water, and stepped into the shower. She loved the feeling of the water on her shoulders and breasts. She had some highly fragrant soaps from the provencal soap maker, Fragonard. It was their orange blossom soap and she used it everywhere. She got out of the shower and dried herself, and then naked returned to her bedroom to dress. First she chose her underwear. For her bra she selected a black, non-wired La Perla item called Exotique. It was made with see-through Leavers lace. It held her breasts but didn't corral them, or cut into her skin. For panties she chose La Perla's Zephyr thong. She was far too old to wear it but hang it, she thought, I love it. It was in black lycra and embroidered tulle cantered on and about her mound. She was tempted to open the door dressed in just her lingerie, but decided to wear a full length black Sonya Reikal clingy dress; it accentuated her curves. She'd wait until later to put it on so she grabbed a lightweight gown to wear.
It wasn't quite 6 PM and, guiltily, Karen was considering her first drink for the evening. She's finished tidying up, her apartment looked immaculate. The dining table was set, a pair of candles waiting to be lit. She felt the need to collect herself. So many thoughts about Erika. She's never been in a relationship with a woman. Was that now in prospect? What would that mean for the way she lived her life. There were a lot of rich women out there who appreciated her services, and she found the activity (it wasn't really work) quite rewarding. Would that have to go? Probably, she thought. She was conflicted.
She padded over to the fridge and took out the open bottle of chardonnay, of no particular distinction, and poured herself a glass. With her iPhone she selected some of the solo piano work by Poppy Ackroyd and routed it through her Sonos speakers. She cut the volume, sat down and took a generous sip of the chilled, too chilled she thought, white wine. She sat there in deep rumination, Ackroyd's music helping to settle her, but not resolving much. You can't when you play one woman tennis. Soon it was 7 PM and Erika would be here. Karen went into her bedroom to complete her dressing. The Reikal looked great her, a clingy dress that came to just above her ankles. She'd decided she wouldn't wear any shoes. She brushed her hair and applied minimal makeup, just eyes, and lips.
*
She was in the kitchen preparing the green salad when Erika rang the doorbell. Heart all a flutter Karen removed her apron and moved quickly to open the door. There was Erika as attractive as ever, though showing visible signs of a hard day of travel and meetings. They smiled at each other, Karen asked her in and when she closed the door they fell into each other's arms and kissed for the longest time. Holding Erika feels to good, so right, Karen thought. Their welcome to each other over, Karen stepped back and asked
"Would you like a drink? Freshen up?"
"Could I have shower and a drink, but in that order?" Erica asked.
"Of course, of course," Karen said as she fussed about Erika, taking her suitcase into her bedroom and then giving her some towels and a gown to wear after.
"The bathroom is through there, everything you need, I think, if not call," she said as she kissed Erika again.
"You are a lifesaver," she said between kisses.
They hugged.
Karen returned to the kitchen to finish the salad preparation. She bought a selection of green and red salad leaves, they were sitting in the water-filled spinner waiting to be spun. She made the dressing. In a very shallow, almost flat, bowl she poured three measure of olive oil and one measure of her special vinegar, to which she added a sprinkling of salt and three or four turns of here pepper grinder. The oil and vinegar stayed separated, a big red formless blob of vinegar in a golden puddle of oil. She dried the salad leaves, then spun then repeatedly until all, well, virtually, all, the water had been removed. She then upended the basket with the leaves into the dish and with her salad servers lightly tossed the leaves in the oil and vinegar. Done.
She went to see how Erika was getting one. She was out of the shower and removing her hair from a shower cap when Karen knocked and entered. She was still dripping water. Karen noticed her nipples stiffen. Erika had lovely breasts.
"Dinner won't be long. Did you bring any wine?"
"Oh fuck! I completely forgot. Sorry."
"No problem, my dear. I'll go and remove a cork from something splendid. I'm glad to see you are keeping trim," Karen smiled and winked.
Erica patted her tummy.
