The Kitchen Witch

Once outside he settled into his truck and headed for the cottage. When he pulled into the driveway he just stared. Dave had said it was like nothing he had ever seen before but Viggo thought he had referred to the scenery or the feel of the place. The cottage itself however looked like something out of a fairy tale. It was made of stone, and had a large porch with a swing and was surrounded by a white split rail fence and trees and roses that seemed to spring out from everywhere. The fact they were blooming so late in the year this far north surprised Viggo but then what did he know about that sort of thing anyway?
Gardening was Beanie’s thing not his.

He started unloading everything and taking it into the house. A sports car pulled up within a few minutes and a very tall handsome math sth short wavy blond hair and startling blue eyes got out. “You must be Viggo…I am Darren Martin, Maria’s husband. Need a hand getting things settled?” He asked. Viggo thought about how he and Maria were so opposite her a dark goddess and Darren some sort of sun god.

“Sure, nice to meet you Darren.” Viggo said shaking the taller man’s hand.

After a few trips everything was in the living room and Viggo set the basket from Sarah on the bar in the kitchen.

“See you met our Sarah.” Darren said smiling at Viggo.

“Yeah, her muffins are wonderful, decided to get a few extra.” Viggo said taking off his jacket and tossing it on a comfortable looking blue upholstered chair.

“Yeah she is a great cook, the muffins are great but she does everything well…quite a pretty girl too…albeit shy as all get out.” Darren said laughing.

“She is that. Would you like something to drink?” Viggo asked walking toward the kitchen.

“Sure…glasses are in the top left cabinet over the sink.” Darren said as he settled on a barstool.

“Thanks.” Viggo said taking out two glasses and filling them with water from the tap. He handed Darren his glass and leaned against the counter.

“So you your accent you haven’t lived in Maine or the island your whole life.” Viggo said noting the man’s southern accent.

“No, no I haven’t. I am originally from Savannah, Georgia. Though I haven’t lived there in many years the accent has clung to me.” Darren said smiling. “You got quite an unusual accent yourself.”

“From living too many places in my life I guess.” Viggo said setting his glass on the counter and walking over to the fridge. He was a little curious about what Sarah had put in the freezer.

Darren noticed what he was up to. “Sarah told you she was here huh?” Darren asked. “She does that anytime we have a renter…not just here at the cottage we also have a few other rentals that she tends to stock the fridge each time we have a new guest. I guess coz she is so shy it’s her way of welcoming people without having to say much. Plus it’s a great way to advertise the café and her catering business.”

Viggo smiled as he rummaged through the freezer. There were several containers each detailed in neat block print lettering what they contained and how best to re-heat them. There was beef stew, vegetable soup, and clam chowder, as well as a small lasagna. The refrigerator had been stocked with eggs, cheese, milk, and a few fresh vegetables.

He turned back to Darren. “She certainly goes out of her way to make someone feel at home. Guess I won’t need to go shopping right away. Catering as well as working at the café and doing this sort of stuff? Does she do anything but cook?” Viggo asked.

“She gardens but the woman seems to live for cooking I suppose. She does know how to make a person feel welcome th evh even if she can’t always say it. I tease that she is like a quiet little fairy that just flits through the rental houses and leaves behind gifts. We had an old man staying in one of the other houses, he came here right after his wife died to get his bearings. One day he mentioned that his wife used to make fresh biscuits each morning for him. Well everyday he woke up to find a basket of fresh biscuits on the kitchen counter. We told him it was Sarah the kitchen witch, and he would just howl with laughter. I think that is how she got started doing it. So anytime anyone finds any food they didn’t expect in their kitchen they blame the kitchen witch as Maria calls her. I believe it was Mary Olsen’s birthday last week and she woke up to find a vase of fresh flowers and a delicious strawberry shortcake on her counter.” Darren said smiling at the memory. “Sarah has a key to all of our rental houses so she just lets herself in and leaves gifts. At first we found it a bit odd, well I did…Maria doesn’t find anything odd, but after a while I just got used to it.”

Viggo started to laugh. “Well then I won’t be surprised if I find blueberry muffins in the morning since I made such a fuss over them.”

Darren laughed with him and said, “Well I will leave you to get settled in…if you need anything…you know where to find us.”

Viggo nodded and walked Darren to the door. “Thank you very much for the help Darren…I appreciate all that you and Maria are doing for me.”

“We understand the need for privacy…and in your line of work we know it’s not easy to come by. Don’t you worry, no one will bother you here…except perhaps the kitchen witch.” Darren said winking.

Viggo laughed again. “I think I can handle that.” Viggo thought to himself he wouldn’t mind at all being bothered by the kitchen witch…Sarah was intriguing to him.

Once Darren left Viggo set about exploring the cottage and putting things away. When he finally sat down he realized it was already getting dark outside. “Damn didn’t realize it was so late.” He said to himself.

He started back into the kitchen to take out one of Sarah’s gifts she had left him when he heard a soft knock at the kitchen door. He went to the door and saw Sarah standing there wearing a sweatshirt that looked like she could practically swim in, bearing a basket. Viggo smiled as he opened the door.

“Hello again Miss Johnson.” Viggo said leaning against the doorframe.

“Umm hi…I…uh…I was wondering…have you had dinner yet?” She asked tentatively.

“No actually I was about to heat up the stew you left me.” Viggo admitted.

“Well then I am glad I caught you…I had some left over from dinner at the café and brought them over…thought you might enjoy a fresh warm meal, after your trip and getting moved into the cottage.” She said softly.

“Sounds wonderful...actually smells wonderful.” He said smiling as he caught a whiff of what was in the basket. He was surprised she was there, but he was certainly glad she was.

“It’s nothing fancy.” She said softly.

“Well come on in.” He said stepping back to let her into the kitchen.

She set the basket on the bar and took the cloth off the top. “It’s just salad, steamed asparagus, roasted chicken, and fresh scones.” She said laying the items on the bar.

“Just.” Viggo murmured a little surprised. Nothing fancy huh? He thought to himself.

She moved around the kitchen quickly and with an efficiency that made Viggo want to smile. She began to serve the food and he noticed she had only gotten one plate out of the cabinet.

“Are you not planning on joining me?” Viggo asked hoping she would.

“What? Oh…would you like me to?” She asked blushing a bit.

“Of course, you have been working all day, I am sure you are hungry and quite tired…why don’t you join me?” Viggo suggested hopefully.

“Well, I am a little hungry and a lot tired. I suppose so.” She said getting another plate and plating up food for herself.

They sat down and Viggo said. “Oh hang on, I have something I can contribute.” He went to the refrigerator where he had put a bottle of white wine hours earlier.

She smiled as he opened the wine and poured it into smalmblemblers. “Sorry I don’t have anything fancy.”

She laughed. “Actually there are wine glasses in that cabinet over there…but these are fine.”

“You should do that more often.” Viggo said smiling brightly at her.

“Do what more often?” She asked a bit wide-eyed.

“Laugh…it’s quite lovely to hear.” Viggo said hoping he hadn’t overstepped her bounds.

“Oh.” She said blushing furiously and looking down at her hands.

He handed her a tumbler of wine and seated himself across from her. “To new friends.” Viggo said lifting his glass.

“To new friends.” She said smiling and lifting her own.

The meal was delicious which Viggo pointed out after the first bite. She just smiled and thanked him. They ate and talked about the island and books. She did indeed warm up a bit as they talked…perhaps the wine helped a little. Viggo was fascinated that she had a master’s degree in English Literature. He told her about his art, poetry, and paintings, he avoided the whole actor thing.

“So you are published then…that’s how Maria knows you right?” She asked.

“Uh yes, ubliublisher is actually who told me about the cottage.” He explained.

“I see…so why aren’t you doing any book signings at the store then?” She asked.

“I came here to get away from my hectic life…things have gotten a little out of proportion for me lately and I needed some down time. I had been to Maine as a kid and got the urge to come back about six months ago…unfortunately I had too many commitments to take care of until a few weeks ago. I am so glad that Maria and Darren held the cottage for me.” Viggo said still carefully avoiding what those commitments were.

“I see. I had a somewhat similar reason for coming to the Island myself. Well I hope you are able to enjoy your time here on Mount Desert, I came for a visit and ended up never leaving.” She said smiling at him.

“I am sure I will enjoy it. I know what you mean about going somewhere for a visit and not being able to leave. I have a ranch in Idaho that I fell in love a y a year ago…I had thought about going there to stay but too many friends would be looking me up there…I didn’t tell anyone except my son Henry I was coming here.” Viggo saikingking a sip of his wine.

“You have a son?” She asked.

“Yes he is fifteen…his mother and I are divorced, but we are still close.” Viggo explained.

“I see.” She said taking a sip of her own wine. If he was still close to his ex wife then he was nothing at all like her ex husband she thought. Then she looked again at his hands, they were hands of an artist, of a poet, not of someone who would use them to control someone else like Brad had been.

After dinner she began clearing the table and Viggo got up and started helping her. She jumped a bit when he brushed past her carrying his plate and silverware to the sink. Her ex certainly would never help her clear a table. He said that was women’s and servant’s work.

Then Viggo started running water in the sink and rolled the sleeves of his plaid shirt up. She smiled at him.

“What?” Viggo asked.

“I don’t see many men so readily wash dishes.” She admitted.

“When you live alone, someone has to do them…I have a housekeeper but she always complains that she gets paid for doing very little. I think the last time she actually had to clean was when the hob…was when some friends of mine stayed over for a week at my place in L.A.” Viggo said…he had almost said hobbits and boy how would he explain that?

She smiled at him again and began rinsing and drying the dishes he washed.

“So you have a place in L.A. and one in Idaho, but you felt you had to come here to the cottage?” She asked.

“Yeah it’s hard to explain but it’s almost as if I was drawn here for some reason…memories from childhood I guess.” Viggo said draining the sink and then drying his hands.

“Well I guess I should be going.” She said walking back over to the basket on the counter and putting things back in.

“Really? I was hoping you would stay a bit longer.” Viggo said feela bia bit depressed now. He had wanted this time alone, away from every one; everything and now he desperately wanted this woman he hardly knew to stay.

“I have to get up early tomorrow, Saturday is a big day in the café.” She said continuing to load the basket.

“Oh…well please don’t be a stranger. I may have come here to get away from it all…but I don’t want to become a hermit.” Viggo said smiling.

He saw a small smile tug at her lips and then she said, “I couldn’t imagine someone as open and friendly as you becoming a hermit, Viggo.”

His heart seemed to tighten in his chest when she said his name.

“The island isn’t so large we won’t bump into each other in the next few days I am sure.” Sarah said picking up her basket and walking toward the door.

“Umm I didn’t hear a car…would you like me give you a lift home?” Viggo knew he was reaching now.

She laughed. “I rode my bike…I only live just down the road about a quarter of a mile.”

“Oh…well then, goodnight Sarah and thank you for dinner.” Viggo said smiling brightly at her.

“You are most welcome.” Then she opened the door and slipped out into the cool September air.

Viggo closed the door and then decided inspiration had struck. He rushed into the other room and grabbed his journal. He began writing furiously and when he looked up at the clock on the mantle, it read two thirty four. “Shit…I need to get to bed.” He thought closing his journal and stretching.

That night he dreamed of green eyes and flaxen curls.