Settling In

Dennis was cooking again. Well, he cooked every afternoon before heading off to work, but Mrs. Wolfe would smell those wonderful aromas and start salivating. Next thing she knew, she was cooking herself something nice to eat, and she had managed to put on five pounds in less than a month. She now kept carrot sticks in the refrigerator for these occasions.

She put together a pot of cinnamon tea to go with her carrots and sat down at the kitchen table with a copy of The Age newspaper. Before too long she could faintly hear the sounds of rock and roll music with the not so faint accompaniment of Dennis. He pounded in time on his pans with a set of wooden spoons.

Mrs. Wolfe really did not enjoy these afternoon serenades, but at least they were short and during the daytime. Today they were giving her a bit of a headache, so she thought she would ask him to cut the performance short. She neatly folded up her newspaper, put her keys in her pocket and wandered upstairs to Dennis' flat.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Wolfe. How may I help you?" said Dennis upon opening the door. His large genial smile melted the agitation Mrs. Wolfe had been feeling.

"I am so sorry, dear, but today I am finding your banging is giving me something of a headache. Would you mind terribly not doing it right now?" said Mrs. Wolfe attempting a smile of her own through pounding temples.

"Oh Mrs. Wolfe, I had no idea. I will cease and desist immediately. Tell you what, I'm in a celebratory mood. Can I make it up to you by fixing dinner this evening? I will in fact be home tonight."

Mrs. Wolfe thought for a moment, all of those delicious smells and now she had a chance to savour their accompanying flavours. Perhaps an aspirin and a lay down, and she would be in order for a pleasant evening? "All right," said Mrs. Wolfe, "I think I will join you. What time?"

"Make it eight and I shall concoct something wonderful for us," replied Dennis with a flourish.

Despite his one or two annoying habits, Mrs. Wolfe found she really did like Dennis and was willing to give him some space. "Yes, eight sounds like a good time. I will see you then."


Pigs in the City
Copyright © 1999 Katherine Phelps
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