"What do you mean, you can't drive?" Daniel said by way of greeting as Sophie came tearing out of the house and leaping into his idling car.
"I can't drive," Sophie replied easily. "I mean, I can in America, but the whole 'other side of the road, teeny tiny lane thing' freaks me out here. Hi," she said brightly as he put the car in gear and they drove away from the farmhouses.
"Hi," he replied, smiling at her as she settled into the seat.
"Good day?" she asked, and he rolled his eyes a bit, regaling her with the difficulties of dealing with country solicitors, making her laugh at his impersonation of his legal counsel.
Within minutes, they were parked in front of a small grocer, where boxes and boxes of fresh fruit and vegetables were spilling over onto the tables they were sitting on.
"Ooooh…" Sophie breathed. "This is fantastic!" Without waiting for him, Sophie leaped from the car, hurrying over to the boxes, and immediately began grabbing and sniffing the fruit. Daniel smiled as he climbed from the car, caught up in her enthusiasm for simple groceries.
He patiently pushed the cart as Sophie practically danced up and down the aisles, exclaiming over items from her childhood time spent in England, things she heard of by never tried, and stocking up on kitchen essentials. Before long, the cart was close to overflowing, and Daniel was having a hard time keeping up with Sophie.
He'd never seen someone take such pleasure in shopping for food.
He liked it – he liked seeing Sophie like a kid in a candy store.
It… restored his faith in humanity in some small way, somehow.
She paid for the packed-to-the-gills cart, and helped him struggle all the groceries into the boot of the car, talking a mile a minute, and occasionally pausing to catch her breath. Though he'd been nervous about conversation between them, he saw he had no reason. They were able to keep up a steady stream of banter and conversation between them with no struggle at all.
What a relief.
Daniel knew he was painfully shy around new people, but somehow Sophie made it easy.
"So now that you've bought most of the store, what are you going to make for dinner?" he asked, putting the car into gear and reversing out of the parking lot and onto the narrow lane behind them.
Sophie's brow furrowed. "You know, I'm not sure. Something fabulous, without a doubt. And definitely a salad – I'm dying for a fresh salad. What do you cook? Do you have a signature dish? The Daniel Special?"
He laughed a little, glancing over at her. "Well, I was at the top of my class at Le Cordon Bleu, so…"
"Really?" Sophie breathed, her eyes wide, and he burst out laughing at her wondrous expression.
"No."
"Oh. I thought you were serious."
"No."
"Well, do you cook?"
"Yes."
"Well?"
"Yes."
"How well?"
"Well, I'm not dead yet, so well enough for me."
"Good," Sophie said, settling back in her seat, the matter decided. "You're in charge, then."
Daniel laughed, and they chattered the entire way home – about Hay, about their respective farmhouses, about Sophie's updates to Belletristic and the expected profit increase. They unloaded the car in record time when they returned to Fairfields, and then Sophie stood in the middle of the kitchen, her hands on her hips, facing the Aga as though she and her three hundred Spartans were facing the Persians at the Hot Gates.
"I just don't trust that thing," she said seriously, her gaze firmly fixed on the enormous iron oven.
"It probably doesn't trust you either," Daniel said easily, nudging past her to place a pot of water onto one of the burners. "Let's do something easy, and just boil water. Pasta alright?"
Sophie nodded. "Think we can we make garlic bread in that evil looking oven too?"
Daniel grinned over his shoulder. "We can do that. You prep, I'll cook."
They moved easily around each other in the kitchen, Sophie slicing a loaf of French bread and whipping up a garlic butter while Daniel prepared his own tomato sauce to go with the pasta. They talked easily, but also worked in companionable silence – a rare balance, Daniel thought with a hidden smile.
Particularly for a talker like Sophie.
"So you were last spotted in Indiana before fleeing to the Welsh countryside," Daniel said, picking up an earlier thread of conversation. "What was Indiana like?"
"Well, it's a bit like here, but with a lot more corn and cows. Lots of it is rural like this, but then there are these pockets of urban life that…"
Sophie trailed off, her gaze lifting and her nose sniffing. "Uh, Danny? I think something's burning…"
"What?" Daniel asked, his knife still trained on the garlic and onions before him.
"Uh… burning!" Sophie yelped, yanking open the oven door, releasing a billow of black smoke. She jumped back, and then grabbed a second pot holder to try and wrestle the cooking tray from the oven. "Almost… got it…"
With a squawk of triumph, she got the tray out, throwing it in the sink, the bread still smoldering slightly. Daniel was still frozen in place, watching her acrobatics. She looked at the oven, a wounded expression on her face. "I thought I had the hang of it. I mean, how do you turn it down?"
"You don't," Daniel said with a soothing smile. "It's a constant temperature… you'll get used to it. You just have to keep a closer eye on things when they are cooking in there…"
"But…" Sophie protested. "How can the Aga tell if it's cooking a twenty eight pound turkey or just a loaf of bread? Does it have mind reading capabilities? Are there magical elves running it?"
Daniel snorted with laughter. "No magical elves, I'm afraid. Maybe a gnome or two, but no elves. It's just an older technology… practice makes perfect."
"Well, this bread is far from perfect," Sophie pouted.
"Whip down to the grocer and pick up another loaf then," Daniel said, his tone serious. "Oh wait… you can't. You don't know how to drive either. It's a wonder you've made it to the ripe old age of 26 at all," he grinned, teasing her.
"Danny?"
"Yes, Sophie?"
"Bite my ass."
Daniel barked out a laugh, and then his eyes turned softer, meeting hers. "That's the second time you've called me Danny."
Sophie swallowed, suddenly uneasy. "Do you like it?"
"Yes. As a matter of fact, I do," he answered with a smile. He took her hand in his for the briefest moment, giving it a squeeze. "I do."
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