I am in the Kitchen While Charlie is in the Parlor
I thought it odd that I was sitting in the back of the limousine by myself. I should have known at that moment something was going to go wrong. I fumbled with all the buttons and felt that all the extravagance this monstrosity of a vehicle provided was wasted on me. I discovered the control that brought down the privacy window between me and the driver. “Today’s my wedding day.” Of course he already knew this and acknowledged this with a perfunctory nod and “mm hmm”. “Do you like Azure Ray?” I asked. “Never heard of them.” I found ‘Sleep’ from their self-titled album on my iPod and told the driver the name of the song. “I am going to go ahead and close this window as I best concentrate on the road.” I thought that was a polite way of saying “Leave me alone.”
With a sigh, I sulked into my chosen spot and listened to the music as I watched the familiar scenery of trees and all the natural beauty not affected by urban growth fly by. It seemed odd to be traveling toward The Manor as one who was going to attend an event as opposed to being the person in the kitchen cleaning dishes. The Manor was such a boring name for such a beautiful place I always thought. The whole facade was one of grandeur in the hopes of luring people like me and my soon to be bride into shelling out thousands for weddings and other events. My years of working in the kitchen were blessed years for I truly loved my job. Everyone I worked with was so kind and I had the hope of learning the art of being a chef someday. Nancy was the head chef and she was always very kind and always took time out to teach me a bit of this and a bit of that. I took pride in keeping her kitchen looking immaculate and ensuring every dish that left her kitchen was perfectly spotless. The last I heard, Nancy still worked here so it will be nice if I get to see her.
The last turn in the road would be coming up soon and that led to the long walnut tree lined driveway to the beautiful estate. I had heard a rumor once that when The Manor was built in the late 19th century it was done so in the style of old manor houses from England – hence the name I suppose. The whole place was built of a cream colored stone with large carved stone figures adorning the long cascading porch that led to the heavy oak doors one would walk through to enter. Just above the doors were cathedral windows adorned with stained glass. The estate really was magnificent in every way but as I left the limousine I felt awkward as I ascended the staircase about to go through the main doors. I felt as if I should be going around the back through the staff entrance thinking all the while that was where I truly belonged.
As I stepped closer to the entrance the typical sounds and aromas of a grand event captured all of my senses. Everyone was engaging in polite, trite conversation and I heard the usual ‘Oh, it has been way too long” and the “Really, after this, we need to do something together.” There I was decked out in my tuxedo clearly standing out like a sore thumb and not one soul acknowledged my existence. My ‘best man’ and ‘groomsmen’ if you will were all in the corner flirting with the bridal party. They were my accompaniment not because I chose them nor that I was close to any of them in any way, but because a perfect wedding needed such people, so these friends of my soon to be wife were here to ‘represent me.’ Yet, not a one took any notice of me which further reinforced my thoughts of not belonging here.
I sulked off into a corner and gazed at the blueberry pancakes that were left over from breakfast intended for those who were overnight guests of The Manor. I started to make a plate and was pleased to see that all the accouterments were also available which included apple sausage and hash brown potatoes. Looking at this, I knew for sure that Nancy would be here for no one else could create such a beautiful breakfast ensemble. I grabbed my loaded plate, made my way to the juice station, poured a glass and was about to make my way to the kitchen when I heard my future wife. Of course it is bad luck to see your bride before the wedding so I thought I best make haste.
I then realized something. Her voice was that of exclaiming someone’s name and it was not mine. Charlie. Good old Charlie. As he walked through the doors, everyone made such a fuss. Hands were extended and shaken. Arms were flung open and hugs were given and the longest hug of all was that between him and my wife. Charlie was my wife’s ex-boyfriend. She mentioned him often as did everyone else for that matter. Charlie was wealthy, classically good looking and well, was basically everything I was not. Not to say I am ugly but let’s just say if we were movie characters, I would be someone like Ben Stiller and he would be someone like Brad Pitt. I stood there and stared as if I was having an existential episode. I started thinking of all the moments that led me to this time and place and none of it seemed real. I saw Charlie lean in and there was the kiss.
I was a few feet away from the kitchen door and I exited the parlor. All around me were the familiar faces of everything I had once known. The Hobart dishwasher with its silver gleaning, shelves and shelves of dishes and large counter tops for preparing the most exquisite meals were all there like old friends. I spotted my favorite chair in the corner, grabbed a fork and sat in silence eating the delicious food I just knew Nancy made. Inside the kitchen I was real and mattered while outside I was the fool playing someone else’s part – a part that belonged to Charlie it seemed. I was hoping I would see Nancy but she never showed. I took my plate, fork and glass and washed them in one of the side sinks just like I had washed so many over sized pans in the past. I then dried them, wiped down the counter, put everything away and walked out the back entrance. I started down the dirt path that led to another world and another life and did not look back.