Epilogue
Rose and Fannie were everywhere at once, or so it seemed, as they welcomed in the public for the open house of Miss Farmer's School of Cookery. Housed a stone’s throw from the old school full of staff who wished them well, their school had three new teachers and shining stainless steel counters, and was perfectly prepared for their new mission stressing practical cooking over theoretical.
Bursting with excitement, tugging at her newly starched apron, Rose greeted newcomers and gladly talked about the cookbooks for sale with precise measurements. She had spent many hours transcribing recipes herself. No more dash of this and pinch of that. Teaspoons and tablespoons and measuring cups were the order of the day.
As regular middle-class women mulled about tasting the free samples, picking up schedules, and speaking with the teachers, Rose knew Fannie’s dream of teaching housewives instead of would-be teachers was going to be a roaring success.
Incredibly, she had helped. More than helped. She was doing something authentic and useful with her life.
When she turned and saw Finn, the single male amongst the ladies milling about, she didn’t even startle. Seeing him there in the middle of her happiness was almost expected, and she wanted to run up to him, hug him, and share her delight.
Oh, the scandal that would cause!
Instantly, his face lit up in a grin that must have matched her own. He strolled over to her.
“Isn’t it wonderful? I won’t even ask how you knew to come today, I am so happy to see you. The shipyard is going well? I knew it would with you at the helm.At the helm, ha. That’s funny, is it not? Anyway, this school is going to be a shining example of practicality, usefulness, and, of course, deliciousness.”
He laughed. “Take a breath, love.Youare deliciousness, do you know that?”
She laughed along with him, her pleasure at their mutual success lifting her to giddiness.
“Come taste this,” and she grabbed his hand and took him to one of the sample tables. “Try this. It’s known as Turkish Delight.”
When he pulled back slightly, she added, “It’s candy.”
He opened his mouth, perhaps to decline the offer, and she popped a piece into his mouth and watched him chew the sticky treat.
“Isn’t it scrumptious? Now taste this,” she implored him, and grabbed up a little doily with a sliver of frangipani cream pie on it.
“See its flaky crust. Taste the creamy goodness.” She shoved it into his hands. “And this gingerbread, it’s heavenly.”
She crammed a piece in her own mouth and then tried to put some into his.
“Rose, stop. It’s all delicious, but I didn’t come here to stuff my face like a glutton, or to have you do it for me.”
“Oh my goodness,” she practically shrieked. “Are you here to sign up for classes? You’ll be our first gentleman pupil. Miss Farmer,” she began to call out looking around for her beloved mentor.
“No, Rose, please.” He tugged at her hands and came away with more gingerbread, which he dutifully ate. “Good Lord. That is delicious!”
She knew he would love it.Who could resist the surprise of lemon peel?
Yet he continued tugging at her, until he had succeeded in spiriting her away from the hullabaloo into the next room where a few students were examining the clean and airy new classroom.
“I’m sorry, Finn, I’m just so excited.”
“I know, love, and you have no idea how happy I am for you. But I didn’t come to sign up. I came to ask you to go out with me. Tonight. I mean, after this event, whenever it ends. Out in the open, in public, where we might run into anyone and everyone. I’m inviting you to dinner,” he paused, then added, “At your choice, of course. Will you?”
Her heart was thudding loudly in her chest, and she was sure he could hear it. It had been difficult at first to pull her thoughts from the cooking school to Finn. Currently, however, he had her full and undivided attention. As she looked at him and considered what he was asking, Rose felt a lightness shower over her.
Before she could say anything, Finn continued. “Since we first met, I’ve improved myself in some ways, yet become less than I was in others. I worried for two years whether my injury would be the deciding factor, the nail in the coffin, as they say. Then, there were other impediments to our future.” He grimaced at stating the obvious.
“I’ve tried to hold back and to give you time, but more than anything, I want to start over with you, Miss Malloy.”
He took her hand and cleared his throat.
“My name is Phineas Bennet. I have a university degree and solid, respectable employment. I can hold my head up with any of Boston’s finest.”
“Oh, Finn, you always could.” Rose took a step closer, not caring about any perceived impropriety. “You arenotless than you were. You were perfect for me before,” she paused.
