A Twist in My Story

Walking into their expansive kitchen, Kevin walked straight to the massive stainless steel refrigerator. He yanked the right side of the door open and perused the contents inside the flashy fridge. There was your standard milk, juice, fruits, raw vegetables, condiments, ingredients for sandwiches, and dozens of bottles of Vitamin Water…Dani was obsessed with the drink. And as his luck would have it, there were various containers of leftovers from the previous week. Danielle always cooked more than enough food for them both, always thinking he would be starving after a long day at work. Looking around, he frowned when he realized that there were no remnants of the dinner Danielle had prepared the previous night. He was disappointed by that—he had been watching her with a forlorn look during their argument as she dumped the meatloaf and potatoes she had prepared for him into the trash can.

Releasing a sigh he pulled out the massive aluminum foil pan that held the lasagna Dani had made for the neighbors that came over for dinner on Wednesday. Opening a cabinet above his head, he pulled out a white porcelain plate, then rummaged around a drawer next to the oven and pulled out a spatula. He cut off a large chunk of the lasagna before walking it over to the microwave. He put it in and stared blankly at the numbers before him. “How long do you cook leftovers for?” he asked himself. Debating this for a second, he ended up putting it in for five minutes. Pressing ‘Start’ he walked away from the microwave and back towards the refrigerator. Once more opening the right door, he pulled out the bottle of wine he had seen in there earlier, walking over to a cupboard and pulling out a wine glass. He poured himself a healthy dose before sitting down on the island counter, staring mindlessly at the glass of merlot in front of him. He rarely had leftovers for dinner—having gone straight from his mother’s daily home-cooked dinners to his wife’s meals. But any time he did have leftovers, he was reminded of the week after his wedding to Danielle.

“Okay sweetie, what do you feel like eating tonight? Pasta? Salmon? Chicken?” Danielle’s muffled voice was asking from where her head was stuck in the refrigerator.

Kevin groaned to himself, the thought of eating any one of those things ever again making his stomach churn in an unpleasant manner. “Dani, can’t you just cook something else tonight?” he asked from where he sat in the breakfast nook of their Trump Towers apartment.

Danielle brought her head out from the refrigerator and gave him a stern look. “Kevin, we have enough food in our refrigerator to feed all of Manhattan. We need to get rid of all these leftovers!” she exclaimed, motioning to the wide refrigerator.

He released a sigh and walked over to her. “You know, we really should have tried to pawn off more of this food on our families. I’m sure you’re uncle Tony would have been more than happy to take all of the pasta from the reception,” Kevin teased, a playful smirk pulling at the left corner of his lips.

Danielle pretended to be offended at the jab he made towards her favorite uncle, but she failed at biting back her smile, knowing he had a point. “He’s a big Italian man—you should know that when it comes to Italian men, they don’t joke around with their appetite,” she teased back.

“Oh, I know,” Kevin said with a wicked smirk, wrapping his arms around his new bride once he finally made it over to her. “For that reason, I beg of you, please don’t make me eat any more of the food from our reception,” he pleaded, pouting at her and widening his hazel eyes in attempts to sway her with his puppy dog eyes.

Danielle smiled at him, looping her arms loosely around his neck as she shook her head. “Kevin Jonas, those moves didn’t work on me when we were dating and they’re not going to work now that we’re married,” she stated, her smile widening at their current status. “Your family was the one that didn’t show up at the last minute, leaving us with all this food.”

“How were we supposed to know they would get snowed in and be unable to fly in for the wedding?” he asked indignantly.

“Hmm, considering you were the one who insisted we get married in the middle of December, you would have thought you might have considered the possibility of a snow storm,” she teased. She was just saying that for the sake of their argument, but the truth was that the snow storm that hit the day of their wedding only added to the fairytale quality of her winter wonderland wedding.

“Well I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could have waited another year to be married to you,” Kevin said, leaning in and pressing a gentle peck to her lips.

Danielle smiled into the kiss, staring adorningly into his eyes once they pulled away. “I know what you mean,” she whispered. “But I know what you’re doing. You’re not going to make me forget what we were discussing. Now, pick an entrée, because until all these leftovers are gone, I’m not cooking you another meal,” she stated, pulling away completely from him.

Kevin pouted once more; disappointed that his evasive maneuver had failed. “How about take out?” he questioned hopefully.

“Kevin,” Danielle said reproachfully, crossing her arms across her chest much like his mother used to do when she was reprimanding him.

“Fine,” he said, releasing a sigh. “I guess I’ll go with the chicken,” he grumbled. Danielle beamed widely at him once he finally conceded, turning around to fetch his meal of choice. “I would have gone with the salmon, but after a week, I don’t think it’ll be so good anymore,” he commented, holding the refrigerator door open for her.

Danielle set the platter of chicken on the counter next to the fridge before lifting the lid to the salmon. The poignant stench that greeted her made her recoil and crinkle her nose. “You know what babe, I think you’re right,” Danielle said, pulling out the container to dispose of it. “Do you mind going to the chute and throwing this out? I don’t want it to stink up the entire apartment.”

“Why don’t we just leave it out for the neighbor’s cat?” he asked, only half teasingly…he really hated that thing. Danielle didn’t say anything, but she gave him the look. “Fine, fine,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’ll throw it down the chute.”

Danielle handed him the container, pressing up on her tip toes and pressing a quick kiss to his lips as he took the eroding fish. “Dinner will be warmed up by the time you get back,” she said with a smile. Pulling away, she slapped his butt so that he’d get out of the kitchen while she got to work on once again, warming up leftovers for dinner.

The sound of the microwave beeping interrupted Kevin’s thoughts on how they ate leftovers for two weeks after their wedding. Pushing those memories aside, he took one more sip of his wine before going over to the microwave to fetch his meal for the night. Opening the door to the small kitchen appliance, he let out a loud groan at the sight before him. Apparently, five minutes had been too much time for the meal because there was tomato sauce spattered all over the inside of the microwave. “Great. Just fucking great. I so don’t need this right now,” he yelled in frustration, grabbing the plate and forcefully setting it down on the counter next to the appliance. Walking over to the sink, he grabbed a few sheets of paper towels before soaking them in water, walking back over to the microwave and scooping up the red goop. He went through a few more sheets before all the sauce was cleaned up.

Dumping them in the trash bin, he walked back over to the plate of lasagna that had exploded sauce all over it. He took the plate and walked over to the stool he had been sitting at before, dumping the plate in front of his glass of wine before plopping himself down on the stool. Frustrated by his situation, he forcefully shoved his fork into the steaming plate of food before bringing it up to his mouth. “Fuck,” he yelled, dropping the fork onto his plate and allowing the food to fall out of his mouth and back onto the plate. He hadn’t realized how hot it was and had burned his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Tears flooded quickly to his eyes from the pain and as he blinked them away, he couldn’t help but think that had Danielle been here, she would have warned him against eating too quickly.

Two days later, Kevin was walking back into his office in the city. “Good morning Mr. Jonas,” the young receptionist greeted him as he walked through the double glass doors.

“Morning,” he grumbled in return.

“Mr. Rich would like to see you in your office once you’ve settled,” she called after him as he walked towards his office. Kevin hesitated in his next step and his shoulders deflated a bit as he continued walking. The boss calling him into his office this early in the morning could never be a good thing. Walking into his office he settled his briefcase on his chair. His desk was littered with paperwork that he was supposed to do Saturday, but since he hadn’t shown up to work, he hadn’t been able to get it all done. Shoving his hands through his curls, he left his office once more and walked down the hall to where his boss’ office was.

“Good morning Kevin,” his boss’ secretary chirped at him. She was a woman in her early sixties that reminded him a lot his nonna, his grandmother. She had shown him the ropes when he was just an intern during his college years, telling him everything he had to know about the people that worked there. It was really because of her help that he was able to climb the ladder in this business and become one of the label’s best producers.

“Hey Eleanor. Is he in there?” he asked, pointing towards the door.

“Yes. I’ll just let him know you’re here.” Pressing her finger against the intercom, she announced his presence. He heard when his boss gave her the okay to let him in. She smiled warmly at him as she flicked her head and allowed him to walk in.

Mr. Rich’s head was buried deep in his paperwork; his dark hair gelled neatly away from his face. “Good morning Mr. Rich,” Kevin said announcing himself.

His boss held his finger up, scribbling something quickly before looking up at him with a smile. “Kevin, just the man I wanted to see. Please, have a seat.” Kevin did as he was told, sitting down in the chair across from Mr. Rich. His boss was fairly young to be the president of such a big label—he was only in his thirties—but as far as boss’s went; he was a pretty decent one. “We missed you here on Saturday.”

“I know. Something came up and, I had to take the day off,” Kevin said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He had had a feeling that he was going to be chastised for not showing up two days prior, regardless of how laid back his boss tended to be. But he just couldn’t bring himself to leave his house after the news Danielle had dropped on him.

The thought of her made his heart pang in his chest.

“I hope everything is alright,” Mr. Rich commented.

“Yes, everything’s okay now,” he replied quickly, knowing that it was best to leave his family matters out of the office.

“Good, well, since you weren’t here on Saturday, I can only imagine you have a lot of paperwork to catch up on,” Mr. Rich stated good-naturedly.

“I had some things with me and was able to work on them while I was home, but you’re right, I do have a bit of paperwork stacked up on my desk,” Kevin said back.

“Good, well I’ll let you get to that, but before I do, I have some news for you.” Kevin, who had been about to get up, sat back down in the chair, waiting for his boss to continue with the news. “Since you were the one that got Brittany Nicole’s mother to let her sign with us, I’ve decided to make you the producer for her contract. You know that she has to record three albums, so you’ll have your work cut out for you.”

“Wow, Mr. Rich, thank you,” Kevin said. Up to this point, he had been co-producer to a few artists, but never the one in charge. This was a big deal.

“No need to thank me. You’ve been working hard lately and you deserve this. Now, I know this gives you a bit more work, so I’ll let you go,” he said, picking up his pen and continuing what he had been doing before Kevin walked in.

Kevin walked out of the office and leaned back against the door, letting it all sink in. A part of him was ecstatic with the news—this is what he had been working towards since he became an intern here the summer before his junior year in college. But another part of him was a bit sad—being the head producer of an album was a lot of work. This meant he would have to spend a lot more time at the label, working one on one with the artist. He had just had an argument with his wife about how he spent too much time working to begin with.

“Kevin, honey, are you okay?”

Kevin’s eyes snapped open when he felt Eleanor rest her hand on his forearm. He looked at her and smiled feebly. “Yea, I’m fine,” he stated, leaning away from the door and composing himself.

“Are you sure? You looked a bit sad. Is everything alright?” Eleanor pressed.

Kevin released a sigh. He couldn’t break down on her right now. He had a lot of work to do. “Yea, yea I’m okay,” he repeated. “I have to go. I have a bunch of work to get done today.”

“Okay. But honey, you know I’m always here if you need someone to talk to,” she offered.
“Thanks,” he said, smiling warmly at the elderly lady. Her offer was comforting to him, knowing that she was there. With that, he walked away, locking himself in his office for the remainder of the day and working harder than he had in a while.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, the papers that had been on his desk that morning had diminished. “Heading home early tonight, huh Mr. Jonas?” the bubbly receptionist asked.

“Yea, it’s been a long day,” he stated. “Have a good night,” he called out to her, waving as he opened the doors.

“You too,” she called after him. Kevin walked to his car and released a sigh, the tiredness setting in. It took him longer to get home than usual because of all the rush hour traffic. As he sat on the Henry Hudson Parkway, he couldn’t help but think that leaving the office later always guaranteed him a traffic-free drive home. Then he started thinking about his home and how he was going home to an empty house. He really hoped that he didn’t though. Part of him was holding out hope that after two days, Danielle would change her mind and realize that it was ridiculous for her to leave him. He hoped that when he got home, she would be there waiting for him, willing to apologize for leaving him after dropping such a bomb on him.

But when he finally pulled into their driveway, it was as empty as he had left it that morning. Kevin’s heart dropped at the sight—he had managed to convince himself on the drive that Danielle would be waiting for him when he got home. Dropping his suitcase at the door of his office, he walked through the large, barren house and into the kitchen. He went straight to the refrigerator in search of dinner, even though he knew exactly what was awaiting him. He had eaten the majority of the leftovers that had been in the refrigerator for lunch and dinner both Saturday and Sunday and now his choices had depleted.

Kevin frowned to himself once he’d perused the contents in the fridge—all the food there was had to be cooked and he wasn’t very good around the kitchen, as he had been finding out. One of the advantages of marrying his high school sweetheart was that she was a wholesome Italian girl and was an excellent cook. He missed her and her magic cooking hands. As if to accentuate the fact that he was starving, Kevin’s stomach grumbled loudly.

Pushing thoughts of Danielle aside, he decided to find something besides leftovers to eat. He rummaged around in the freezer before finding a box of DiGiorno pizza in the back. “Aha,” he said to himself, pulling out the box. Frozen pizza… that couldn’t be too hard to make. Bringing the box over to the island counter, he read the instructions. “Preheat oven to 350 degrees,” he read to himself. Walking over to the stainless steel oven, he opened the oven door, looking around it. He then closed it and looked at the knob-y things on top of the stove. The one in the middle read ‘oven’ and had numbers around it, so he figured that’s the one he was looking for. Twisting the knob, he set the line at 350. “There. Now, what the hell do I cook this thing in?” he mused to himself. Rummaging around a few cupboards, he found a cookie sheet and figured it was flat, so it was good enough. He removed the plastic wrapping around the pizza, plopped it on the baking sheet and shoved it into the oven regardless of whether it was hot enough. Glancing back at the box, he saw that he had at least fifteen minutes to kill.

He decided to go up to his room and change out of his work suit. Going into his closet, he tried to ignore Danielle’s empty side as he picked out an old pair of jeans and a gray thermal shirt. He slipped out of his work clothes and into the second comfortable outfit. Pushing the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, he walked back towards the door of the walk-in closet. As he walked by the bit of clothes Danielle had left, her scent radiated off her clothes and into his nostrils. He stopped for a second and closed his eyes, taking in her scent. It had only been two days, but he already missed that smell. It was only a lingering fragrance in this closet, but so much more acute on her. He missed waking up to that smell and catching lingering bits of it in rooms she had been in around the house.

Kevin groaned to himself. It was useless thinking about her. He had done everything he could—he had reached out to her and asked her to come back home. It was up to her now to decide if she would come back or not. Thinking these things about her wasn’t doing anything but getting him more worked up. Pushing thoughts of her aside, he walked out of the closet. A sharp scent met him when he walked out into the hallway.

“Shit,” he cursed to himself once he realized he smelt smoke. Racing down the stairs, he walked to the oven, opening the door. The odor was much more pronounced in the air around him. Making sure to grab oven mitts so that he didn’t burn himself, he pulled the pizza pie out. The edge of the crust was charred black and the cheese and pepperoni that had layered the top had been well on their way to blackening as well. Kevin dropped the cookie sheet on top of the flat stove top, his meal for the night officially ruined. He removed the oven mitts and dropped them next to the burnt pizza, bracing his hands on the edge of the counter and dropping his head.

He really was getting frustrated with himself. He knew he wasn’t good around the kitchen, but he didn’t know it was possible to burn frozen pizza. This failed attempt at making a meal reminded him of the first and last time he had tried to cook a meal.

“Kevin, what’s going on in here?” Danielle asked, running into the kitchen.

Kevin looked over at her, his thick eyebrows scrunched together as his eyes widened at the sight of her. “You’re home early,” he responded.

“Yea, there was no traffic. Now what in the world is going on?” Danielle asked, looking at her boyfriend since high school. He was in jeans and a baseball shirt that was pushed up to his elbows. His torso was covered by an apron that her mom had given her when she was younger and first started learning to cook. It was her favorite apron and it had splotches of food all over it. Kevin had a dish towel in his hands and was standing on a kitchen chair, trying to flap air into the fire alarm, which was ringing loudly. She crossed her arms and stared at him pointedly. He gave her the puppy dog look as he continued to flap the towel in his arms, successfully stopping the loud blaring of the alarm. With a sigh he hopped off the chair and set the towel down. “Kevin,” Danielle probed.

Kevin released a dejected sigh. “I’m sorry the kitchen’s such a mess baby. I was trying to make a special dinner for you, since I knew you would probably be tired by the time you got back from visiting your sisters. I tried making spaghetti and meatballs because it’s your favorite and it seemed simple enough. But then I couldn’t find a pot deep enough to cook the spaghetti in and once I did, not all the spaghetti fit, so I tried breaking them in half, but they broke into too many pieces. Then I tried to warm up this Ragu sauce, but it was ready before the pasta was soft so it kept bubbling and just got everywhere. And did you know you have to actually shape meatballs out of ground beef?” he ranted.

Danielle looked at him with a straight face before bursting out laughing. Kevin frowned at her reaction and she could tell he was hurt that she was laughing at his attempts, so she tried her best to compose herself. She walked over to him and placed her hands on his cheeks. “Baby, that is the sweetest thing you have ever tried to do for me, but really, you shouldn’t have,” she said, giggling once more and looking around. She could see bits and pieces of raw spaghetti on the floor and there was red sauce all over the oven. There was ground beef in a skillet and it was still crackling, meaning the meat was burning to the bottom of the pan because Kevin hadn’t turned off the stove before trying to shut off the alarm.

“The meatballs set off the alarm,” Kevin said in a small voice, catching what her gaze had landed on.

Danielle turned back to look at him, amusement glistening in her eyes. “I love you, but the next time you want to cook for me, don’t,” she teased. Kevin tried not to let her teasing get to him—he had really wanted to do something nice for her—but found that it was impossible to pretend it didn’t. Danielle knew him better than anyone and she could tell it was too soon for her to tease him about this. She turned his gaze so that his hazel eyes met her brown ones. “How about we cook something together?” she questioned.

“Really?” Kevin asked dubiously. “You still want me around your kitchen after the mess I’ve made?”

Danielle looked around the room once more before looking at him with a playful smirk. “Well, maybe you can stick to cutting up raw vegetables for a salad and I’ll do the rest,” she teased good-naturedly. Kevin couldn’t help but chuckle and nodded, signaling he was okay with that task. “Why don’t you go clean yourself up,” Danielle suggested, pulling at his curls to remove a piece of spaghetti, “while I clean up in here. Then we can make dinner together.”

Kevin looked adoringly at his girlfriend. “I love you,” he murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips.

Danielle smiled into the kiss. “Ditto,” she replied before pushing him down the hall towards their bedroom. When Kevin walked back into the kitchen a little while later, he saw Danielle in another apron, standing over the stove. Her small hands were working on molding meatballs and placing them onto the skillet, which had been cleaned off of burning ground beef. Kevin crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her small waist. “Jesus, you scared me,” Danielle cried, jumping a bit in his hold.

“Sorry babe,” he apologized, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “So, I see we’re still having spaghetti and meatballs,” he commented.

“Yea, the meat was already out and the pasta was salvageable. The sauce definitely wasn’t though, so I have a new batch simmering on the stove,” she replied. She really was amazing.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, standing next to her and watching as she stirred the sauce.

“I set out some lettuce, cucumbers, and tomatoes for you. Why don’t you use your manly muscles to cut up the salad?” she suggested.

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” he questioned.

Danielle smiled up at him. “Not at all,” she replied. With a shake of his head, Kevin walked over to where his task was set up and got to work. Once he was done, he followed Danielle’s instructions and melted a bit of butter with garlic then spread it on a loaf of bread before placing it in the oven. Danielle didn’t trust him with anything else, so he just watched her work. He got an idea and walked over to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of wine and then two glasses from a cabinet. He walked back over to his girl and handed her a glass. “Oh, thank you babe,” she said, taking it from him and taking a sip. She allowed the bittersweet wine to swirl in her mouth a bit before swallowing it. She glanced up at Kevin briefly and saw him staring at her with a glazed look in his eyes. “Are you okay honey?” she questioned.

Kevin nodded, still staring at her with that same look. “You really amaze me, did you know that?” he asked. Danielle blushed at his words, and the fact that he can make her do that made a wide smile tug at Kevin’s lips. He brushed her mocha bangs away from her forehead before placing a kiss there. When he pulled back he saw her eyes were closed, so he leaned in again and placed a kiss to her nose, which crinkled under his lips. Finally, he brought his lips to hers in a slow, gentle kiss. Danielle sighed into his mouth. Kevin blindly took her wine glass from her and placed it on the counter along with his. He pulled her closer to him and rested his hand on her waist while the other held her head in place. He moved his lips expertly against hers.

“Kev,” she murmured when they pulled away for air.

“I love you Dani,” he breathed against her lips, ignoring what she was going to say and bringing his lips back to hers. She leaned in closer to him and took a deep breath once he pulled away again.

“My meatballs!” she cried once the smell of something burning hit her nose. She pulled away from him and hastily turned down the heat on the stove, dishing out the tiny balls and adding them to the spaghetti in tomato sauce. She ignored Kevin while she finished preparing the meal and set it on the table. He was content just watching her at work. He had learned from his mother that when an Italian woman was working in her kitchen, it was best not to interfere. However, once their meal was on the table and she turned to look at him, he couldn’t handle it for much longer.

He walked over to her and pressed his lips to hers once more. “Kevin, we should eat before the food gets cold,” she chastised a bit breathless from his kisses.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” he murmured against her neck. Danielle’s resolve faded just a bit—he just had a spell over her like that. “Actually,” he started, pulling away from her neck once more, “that’s a lie. I am hungry, but not for spaghetti and meatballs,” he stated, leaning down to her once more. He captured her lips in a breathless kiss and she squealed out in surprise when his arms went around the back of her legs and he picked her up bridal style, carrying her down the hall.

“Kevin, our food!” she cried, watching the steam rise from their plates as they got closer to their bedroom.

“We’ll warm it up later,” Kevin stated, closing their door behind him and settling her on the bed. Danielle would have protested but his lips found hers in such a deep, passionate kiss that all protests died in her throat and she just let him have his way.

Kevin groaned at the memory and stared around him, the burnt pizza now cold next to him. He pushed away from the counter and ran his hands down his face. He grabbed the pizza and dumped it in the trash on his way out of the kitchen. Once he reached the front of the house, he pulled on a pair of Tom’s shoes and grabbed his keys. He was eating out for dinner tonight.