20. Oskar
To: OskarOlsonChef
From: AustinSmith1656
Subject: Further charitable suggestions
Oskar,
Thank you again for your suggestion to improve my efforts in courting Kelsey. Unfortunately, I could not find the website for San Francisco Hamster Rescue when I searched online. Perhaps the organization is too small for a website. Not that I am implying that it is unimportant, of course.
If you could, would you be able to offer any other suggestions for other organizations that Kelsey supports? I confess, I had no idea that she was so involved in local charities. It only makes her more admirable.
Sincerely,
Austin Smith
To: AustinSmith1656
From: OskarOlsonChef
Subject: Charitable suggestions
Austin. I’m so glad you emailed me. Of course I’d be happy to offer some suggestions. Here are a few charities that I know she has mentioned in the past:
Heterochromia Iridum Awareness Foundation
Bay Area Rutabaga Preservation Society
Domestic Rock Adoption Services
I’m sure you’ll be able to find any or all of these online. Please let me know if you need any other suggestions.
Best of luck,
Oskar
“Oskar.”
“Yeah?”
Josh scowled at me. “What the fuck, man? You’ve been staring at that fence for, like, ten minutes now. Do you want to hear about the pruning or not?”
I shook my head, clearing the memory of kissing Kelsey on the fence at Josh’s party. I was walking through the vineyard with Josh on Monday morning, learning about the various ways he pruned different vines in order to produce the kind of fruit he wanted.
“Uh, sorry. Just remembering something. Go ahead.”
I’d been so nervous to meet her that day. I had been hearing about her from Josh for months. After realizing that Josh Rankin—local winemaker—was related to Kelsey Rankin—food writer I’d been reading obsessively for years—I was further surprised to learn that far from being a tiny image on a website, she was the smoking-hot blonde in all the pictures at Josh’s house.
After that, I looked up everything she had ever written.
When I decided that could be considered slightly stalkerish, I subscribed to the California Food and Wine Journal. That was perfectly acceptable. I was a chef. With a restaurant that served food and wine. In California.
And I pored over every new column she wrote and paid attention to her reviews. And I listened for every mention of her name around my new friends. While I was intrigued by her writing and her picture, the stories Josh and Kurt told about her made me want to meet her even more.
I was impressed by her kindness, which was unusual for a restaurant critic. She never seemed to take pleasure in giving a bad review and always seemed to find something positive to say. She could be brutally honest, but her takes were often more indictments of a self-impressed food industry than the individual chefs or workers she met.
“Oskar?” Josh threw up his hands. “Seriously, man, I’m done. Let’s go to the house and get some lunch.”
“What?”
He pulled off his leather pruning gloves. “You’re still fucking staring at that fence. It’s like talking to a wall. You need to get laid or something?”
I stared at him, my head cocked to the side and my eyes narrowed. “Uh…”
Josh winced and rubbed his forehead. “Can we?—?”
“Pretend you never said that?”
“Yeah.” Josh nodded vehemently. “Let’s pretend I never said that.” He muttered something under his breath.
“Forgotten.”
“Good.” He stalked toward me. “Let’s get some lunch. I brought a tri-tip to barbeque.”
“Great idea.”
He punched my shoulder a little harder than might be considered friendly and walked up the hill to the house. I followed, taking a last look at my favorite stretch of fence.
I was a distracted idiot these days.
When I walked into the house, Josh was already grabbing a beer. He tossed me one from the open fridge and flipped on the radio that was sitting on top of it. The sounds of guitar filled the old kitchen.
Almost everyone around here listened to country-and-western music. I guess when you spend a lot of your life on a tractor, you want to hear about redneck girls who think that’s sexy. I didn’t like most of it, but I liked Johnny Cash.
Josh sat down at the kitchen table and got out some of the papers we had been using to throw around mixing ideas for the wine. I grabbed the tri-tip out of the fridge, placed it on the counter to rest, and walked out to the front to start up the barbecue. After I had the coals going, I walked back in to find Josh staring this time. He was looking at a picture on the refrigerator of Kelsey and him posing by the Golden Gate Bridge.
He stared a bit longer before turning to me as I joined him at the table. He smiled a little, an amused expression lighting his tanned face.
I sat back in the chair and drank my beer, content not to say anything. If he wanted to talk about his sister, he was going to have to start the conversation.
“I really don’t mind the two of you. It’s just fucking weird.”
I nodded, still drinking my beer quietly. All of a sudden, I was really thirsty.
“Oskar.” Josh sighed. “You can talk about my sister. I won’t hurt you or anything.”
“What do you want me to say?” I set down my beer. “You know we’re in a relationship, right? I’m assuming the gossip chain has worked effectively.”
“Fuck yeah, everybody knows that shit now.”
I shrugged. “So?”
“I’m just saying you can mention your… girlfriend around me without thinking I’m going to overreact.” He rolled his eyes a little when he said girlfriend.
I stared at him. “Do I need to braid your hair while we talk about it?”
Josh leaned forward and put his chin in his hand, crossing his legs and batting his eyelashes at me. “Soooo, are you excited to see her this weekend? Have anything special planned?”
I snorted. “Dickhead.”
He leaned back and uncrossed his legs. “Damn, that’s uncomfortable. How do chicks do that?”
I just shrugged and stood up, finishing the last of my beer. “Those coals should be ready. I’ll put the steak on.”
“Want another beer?”
“Sure.”
He brought me another Pacifico while I was standing at the grill. “How did you know my sister? I know there’s a story there.”
I laughed a little. “I’d actually read her writing and recognized her name.”
His mouth made a small O and he pointed at me. “Oh yeah. Her writing from the Journal. That makes sense.”
I frowned and turned the tri-tip, trying to give it an even sear on the grill. “No, from her work at the paper when she was in high school.”
“What?” He looked confused. “You were back in Denmark then.”
“The internet exists, Josh.”
His eyebrows went up. “Oh. Oh yeah.”
“I was taking a vegetables class in school and we were talking about artichokes, so I looked up how they harvest them, and an article she’d written popped up.”
“Right.” Josh nodded but didn’t say anything else, so I took that as a cue to continue.
“I’d been thinking about the harvest in the Mediterranean countries, so when it mentioned California, I was curious. I clicked on it, and I was very interested by what she wrote about the area. After that, I read some of her other stuff and… I guess the rest is history.”
Josh thought long and hard about what I’d said.
He was a bright man in very specific areas, but unless the topic was wine grapes or women, he wasn’t always the deepest thinker. “You had a whole class about artichokes in school?”
That was his first question? “Yes. I had an entire class about artichokes.”
“Weird.” He kept nodding, and his eyes narrowed. “Oskar, are you telling me that my little sister writing about artichokes made you move thousands of miles away and start a whole new life?”
I cleared my throat and took another drink. “Not exactly. I knew I wanted to move from Scandinavia. I was initially thinking about France or even Italy, but when I started reading about Central California…” I looked at Josh; I was losing him. “Yes, Josh. Your sister’s column about artichokes made me move to the United States.”
He lifted his beer. “Epic.”
Josh was such a surfer sometimes. “Epic?”
“Oskar, that shit is epic. If I were a chick, I’d be talking about destiny or some crap like that. That’s fucking amazing.”
“So you don’t think it’s strange?” I was a little worried that he might react the same way Kelsey had at first.
And Josh had guns. A lot of them.
“Oh, it’s fucking strange. But awesome. You guys are like… meant for each other or some shit like that.” He just shook his head and looked off into the distance. “The world is a beautiful and strange place, Oskar.”
I tried to hide the smile that wanted to creep across my face. “Yes, it is.”
“So you think things with you guys are pretty serious?”
He wasn’t looking at me, instead choosing to stare over at the old bunkhouse that he kept talking about fixing up.
I stood over the tri-tip, watching it intently while I answered him. “Pretty serious for me. I don’t want to speak for her.”
“Yeah, sure.” He stood quietly, drinking his beer and staring off into the fields, his hands hooked in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels a bit. “That’s good. Good that you’re serious about her. You guys… doing okay with the distance thing?” He glanced at me briefly before taking another long drink and looking out toward the barn.
Maybe he couldn’t have conversations about important things without looking at something else.
“I miss her,” I confessed. “That part is not great. We talk most days though.”
Josh nodded. “You realize she’s going to drag her ass about moving back here, right? She’s stubborn as hell and real independent. Lit out of here like a cat with its tail on fire after our grandmother died.”
“Do you know why?”
Josh tipped up his beer, finishing it in one gulp. “I guess you’d have to ask her about that. I got my own ideas, but we’ve never really talked about it. Everyone deals with shit like that differently.”
I thought of Hanna and how she left Copenhagen right after our parents’ deaths. “When did your grandmother die?”
“A little over five years ago. She was ninety.”
“What happened? Kelsey’s never said.”
“A heart attack. She had been out with the horses the day before, helping Sergio out, and she went to bed early. Said she was worn out from all the sun. The doctors said she probably died in her sleep. Kelsey found her the next morning. I was already at work in the vineyard when she called me.”
Hanna had also been alone when she received the visit from the officers telling her about my parents’ deaths. She was still living at home when she was in university, while I had gotten an apartment with some of the guys I knew from culinary school. I wanted to be closer to the restaurant where I was working, so Hanna had received the news and had to call me.
“Why are you asking?” Josh was looking at me.
“My sister Hanna is the one who found out about my parents first. She had to call me. She left for New York a few weeks later.”
Josh headed toward the house. “We’re a messed-up crowd, aren’t we? Hell, Kurt’s the only one who has parents who are both alive and not fucked up, and they live two hundred miles away.”
“I suppose it’s a good thing we can do our own laundry and feed ourselves.”
“Speak for yourself about the laundry thing. I hate that shit. Half the time I just go buy new underwear when I run out.”
“Josh?” I poked at the tri-tip and put the cover on the grill.
“Yeah?” He paused at the door. “You need another beer?”
“I know you must feel close to me after our awkward man talk, but I really don’t want to know about your underwear.”
He grinned. “Fuck you, Olson. You better be nice to me if you want to marry my sister someday.”
I choked on my beer. “What?”
Josh was laughing his ass off while he walked back into the house. “Like you haven’t thought about it, asshole. You’re fucking perfect for each other. Sort of makes me want to puke. Or punch you. Can’t quite decide.” He disappeared into the kitchen.
The steak had finished in the time we were talking. I put it on the plate I had brought out and went in the kitchen, where I set it on the counter to rest for around ten minutes while I sliced the loaf of sourdough I brought.
“You have any butter?”
He nodded at the fridge. “Yeah man, there’s some on the counter.”
“You want anything else with this? A salad or anything? I could throw something together.”
“Do I look like a chick? We have tri-tip, bread, and beer. We don’t even really need the bread to have that be a complete meal if you ask me.”
“Fine by me.”
Josh grabbed the bread and butter, and I brought the tri-tip to the table. He’d set plates out, so I grabbed one and helped myself to the meat. We ate silently for a while, sopping up the juice from the steak with the fresh sourdough bread.
I stared at my plate. “So I did something that’s guaranteed to piss your sister off, but it’s going to be fucking hilarious. Want to know about it?”
“Absolutely.”
“Remember Austin with the puffy hair?”
“I like the sound of this already.”
To: OskarOlsonChef
From: FabFelipe
Subject: You are a genius, asshole.
Oskar,
Our girl just got a fucking card from Save the Rutabagas foundation or some shit like that. How the hell did you even hear about that one? I convinced her it was probably from a reader since the card just said that a donation had been made in her name. She brushed it off. I don’t think we have to worry about that one.
Any other obscure charitable donations I should be aware of? How the hell did you convince Austin to do this? He’s not that dumb, though he does have a distinct lack of common sense.
You must be one charming SOB.
Felipe
My phone rangwhile I was typing a response to Felipe from the computer in my office at home. I smiled when I saw Kelsey’s name. “Hey, Schmoopsy. How was the drive home yesterday?”
“Boring for me. Long for Talia. She texted me that she got home late last night. I’ve just been typing up my notes and starting on my pieces for the magazine.”
“How was the rest of the weekend?” I shut off my computer. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you where else you went.”
“It was great. The food was great. The wine was great. We should go sometime, just the two of us, and stay someplace really nice. I bought some cheese for you, by the way. I’ll bring it down next weekend.”
“I can’t wait to see you.” I felt a growl at the back of my throat. “I miss you so fucking much.”
I heard her sigh. “Me too. I sleep much better with my giant Oskar pillow.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “As long as you don’t plan on getting much rest. I’ve waited weeks to get you back in my bed.”
“I do have very fond memories of the last time I was there.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “You have such a comfortable mattress.”
“If you noticed my mattress, I was doing something wrong.”
She giggled.
I sighed when I heard her voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just had a long day today.” I rubbed a hand over my eyes. “I miss sleeping next to you.”
“You do like to cuddle.”
“Only with you… and your breasts.”
“It’s a good thing they come with me then.”
“Yes, it is.”
We were both silent then.
She finally spoke quietly. “Thursday morning. I’ll try to get everything done in the next two days so I can leave early on Thursday. I’ll have to bring work with me.”
“Fine with me. I have to work too. Bring it all and come tomorrow for all I care.”
“Can’t. I have a meeting on Wednesday in the city.”
I sighed. “Fuck, Kelsey.”
“Please don’t. My job is important to me, and I’ve worked very hard to be taken seriously. If I just take off so I can go see my sexy chef boyfriend?—”
“No, stop.” I could sense the frustration in both of us. I took a calming breath. “I know. I’m sorry. I just wish you didn’t have that meeting. Then you could just come and do your writing here, and I could see you sooner.”
“Oskar, I’m not asking you to skip work to entertain me, so please don’t expect me to skip out on my job. I’m coming down early as it is.”
“I’m skipping work on Thursday night so we can go to the market like you wanted.” I jabbed at a notebook with a pencil. “And you know how difficult that is right now what with how I feel about Victor and the restaurant.” I sounded whiny, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
“You know, I didn’t ask you to do that,” she shot back. “You offered. But if you’re going to hold it over my head like that and try to make some sort of bargain, let’s just skip it.”
She was pissed. I was pissed.
Wow. Phone fights were so fun, and with absolutely no chance of makeup sex afterward.
I let out a hard breath. I was angry with myself because I knew I was being unreasonable. I shouldn’t have tried to talk about it then because I was being cranky, and she was right. It wasn’t fair for me to try to bargain for time with her.
“I’m sorry,” I bit out. “I’m being an asshole.”
“Yeah, you kind of are.” She still sounded pissed off.
I grabbed the back of my hair and tugged on it. Hard. “And you’re right. It wasn’t fair to bring up the market. You took a ton of time off when I came to visit. But you do realize I’m going to have to work every night except Thursday, right?”
“Oskar, I get it.”
“I just don’t want you to think I’m?—”
“Do you think I don’t know how restaurants work?” She huffed out a breath. “I’ll bring my computer with me; I can write while you’re at work. I’m finally going to be doing the profile on Jarvis Ranch that I’ve wanted to do, so I’ll be busy on Friday night over at their restaurant anyway.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Then I can finish up the rest of it on Saturday and Sunday nights while you’re working, and we’ll have most of the day together.”
I relaxed a little when I realized how well she’d thought things out.
I felt guilty I couldn’t take more time off, but I still had some misgivings about leaving Victor by himself. I only agreed to take off on Thursday because he would be cooking a familiar menu and I would just be a half an hour away if anything went wrong.
“Oskar?”
“Yes?”
“Does that sound like it will work out?”
I realized I hadn’t said anything after she described her schedule for the weekend. “Yes. That’s fine. That’s great. As long as I can wake up to you every morning, I’m happy.”
“I think you just like the way I wake you up in the morning.”
I remembered a particular morning at her house in San Anselmo. “Really? What was it you did again? I don’t remember; you may need to describe it in detail.”
“You need it in detail?”
“I think you need it in detail too.” I could feel my blood rushing south, and my voice grew husky and lower as I whispered, “Tell me.”
“Yes, Chef.”