Mediterranean Seafood Medley

Tom used a corner of his apron to wipe the smudge of steam from his glasses. There, all better. As long as he didn’t stick his head directly over the rim of the pot, he’d be fine. He gingerly dipped a tablespoon into the oil, swirling it as he adjusted the flame with his other hand. Tom estimated it would take another two or three minutes to boil.

“All done, Tanaka-san!” A cheerful voice chirped from the counter behind him.

Tom twisted around to have a bowl of vegetables shoved under his nose. He took the bowl and placed it on the spot of open space beside the stove.

“Thank you, Akane.” He told the girl with a smile.

Akane beamed and wiped her hands on her skirt. She was the very image of a spirited kitchen aid, with a white kerchief securing her hair and a cloth apron fastened over her blouse. Tom added the vegetables to the simmering pot of oil and placed the lid on its top. Ten minutes and they would be soft enough to chew.

“Is there anything else I can help with?” Akane asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

Tom crossed the room and stopped in front of the sink. He picked up the strainer of baby squid and carried back to the stove.

“Sure,” He said, poking the squid with a fork to test their tenderness, “Why don’t you go set the table?”

Akane grinned broadly.

“Okay!”

As soon as she was out of the room, Tom heaved a sigh. He knew the kid meant well, but she had no idea how much stress she generated for all of the adults around her.

When the average person thought of Tom Tanaka, they pictured a stern debt collector in a suit. His name and the word ‘debt’ had become synonymous at one point or another. But at the moment, Tom couldn’t have fit that frame any less: gone were the formal clothes, replaced with a long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of comfortable slacks. His elbows were swollen with the rolled fabric of his sleeves. An apron hung from his shoulders and protected his torso from the crackling and spitting oil bubbles rising from the stove. His thick dreadlocks, usually dangling freely, were clipped to the top of his head in an almost feminine ponytail.

Most people would call this sort of cooking extravagant; gourmet, even. Tom had been standing at this stove all afternoon, putting up pots of water, measuring oil, peeling vegetables, cleaning fish, et cetera, et cetera. He enjoyed it; Tom loved cooking- the more difficult the recipe, the better. So when he absently mentioned one of his new cookbooks to Shizuo, he hadn’t anticipated a response. It was a hobby, nothing more.

But when Shizuo mentioned it Akane, and Akane mentioned it to Vorona…

Tom hadn’t planned on company tonight. But when the head of an infamous, citywide mafia calls you up and informs you that his daughter has accepted your invitation, it is exceedingly difficult to say no. So, he thought, why not make something of it and invite everyone? Akane was doing such a lovely job helping him, even though her vegetable chopping left something to be desired (specifically, more vegetables).

Tom glanced over his shoulder as he reached for a can of tomato paste. Akane was dutifully carrying a stack of plates to the dining area, humming as she walked. He wasn’t particularly worried about her, but he had received a rather threatening email from Shiki of the Awakusu only an hour after speaking with her father. Shiki attached a list of Akane’s personal preferences, allergies, and other details and added severe consequences should any of the following be violated or ignored. A normal person might have gone to the police, but when you spend as much time around Shizuo Heiwajima as Tom did, things like that stopped worrying you.

The apartment’s electric buzzer blared from the hallway, causing Tom to pick his head up from his measurements. Akane poked into the kitchen, looking to Tom for further direction. The buzzer went off again.

“Come in!” Tom beckoned loudly.

The door creaked open and two people entered, dropping various shopping bags down on the shoe-mat by the frame. Akane broke into a run, rushing past Tom in a whirlwind of air.

“Shizuo-san!” Akane greeted the tall blonde; arms wide open for a hug.

Shizuo caught her with a laugh and lifted her up. Akane wedged herself comfortably in the crook of his elbow, bobbing as Shizuo made his way to the kitchen.

“Good to see you, Shizuo,” Tom said, nodding to his friend as he poured a cup of wine into the pot. “Is Vorona here?”

“Yeah- we picked up some ice cream for dessert. That alright?”

“Ice cream?” Akane gasped, staring up at Shizuo in complete idolization, “What flavors?”

“Only cookie-dough, chocolate fudge, and caramel ribbon.” Shizuo replied, nudging Akane’s nose with his own. She giggled in delight and nuzzled him back.

“Ice cream is fine,” Tom answered, replacing the lid on the pot and entering a fifteen-minute interval to the stove’s timer, “I’ll go put it in the freezer.”

“Uh, Tom-“ Shizuo intercepted him before he could leave the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do?”

Tom shrugged.

“Well, Vorona can help Akane finish the table. The food should be done in another twenty minutes or so…you should pick out a movie for us to watch.”

It was a pale effort. The truth was that Tom didn’t want Shizuo and his brute strength anywhere near his kitchen, and they both knew it.

“Right. Yeah.”

Shizuo stepped aside and let Tom through to his entrance hallway. Three small cartons of ice cream were sitting on the floor in a plastic grocery bag. From the corner of his eye, Tom could see Akane and Vorona setting glasses down on the table. He admired Vorona’s figure as he stooped low to gather the ice cream. She hadn’t gone through the trouble of changing since work that morning, still wearing her thin white vest and shorts. Tom considered what a beautiful woman she was as he walked to the freezer.

After clearing away some pots and pans that were no longer necessary, Tom visited the sitting room. He found Akane and Shizuo flipping through his DVD collection, comparing Disney films. Vorona sat on the couch, watching them with what Tom would describe as envy.

“What would you like to watch, miss Vorona?” He asked jokingly.

Vorona stared at him quizzically before answering.

“Negative. I do not desire to watch anyone at this time. Does my conduct suggest otherwise?”

Tom pressed his lips together, smiling nervously behind them. He wasn’t sure if she’d misinterpreted the question or her own response. Then again, Vorona’s strange speaking patterns were just a part of her exotic charm.

“Uh, no. You’re good.”

A shrill beep emanated from the kitchen, calling Tom back to check on his boiled shellfish. The tips of the mollusk’s shells had just begun to open; perfect. Tom extracted a skillet from his kitchen cabinet and placed it on the stove over a flame. All that was left to cook were the sea bass filets and the fennel.

He sprinkled the fish with salt and pepper and slipped them into the pan, prodding them now and again to ensure they didn’t stick. Tom was allowed several minutes alone in the kitchen with the food, but eventually Shizuo reappeared.

“Need anything else?” Shizuo asked, running a hand through his hair.

Tom shook his head, not moving his eyes from the skillet. Shizuo took a seat at the kitchen counter and folded his hands. It was somewhat nerve-tingling knowing that Shizuo was watching him, but after a while it was clear that no harm was meant. Shizuo respected Tom’s wishes.

“It smells amazing, Tom.” Shizuo admitted to him, a large smile on his face.

Tom couldn’t help returning the gesture. It was pretty hard to make Shizuo grin like that.

As soon as the fish was done, Tom put a lid on the skillet and heaved the other pot to the counter. The spicy aroma of stewed vegetables billowed into the air when Tom removed its metal covering. He laid four plates out and covered each with a thin crust of vegetables. Then he walked back to the stove and procured the boiled shellfish, bringing them to the counter and decorating the rims of the plates with their popped shells. Tom opened the skillet and placed three filets in the center of each plate, creating a masterpiece of a meal. Finally, as the finishing touch, Tom arranged the chopped fennel around the fish and drizzled the entire plate with a layer of sauce.

Dinner was ready.

Akane, Vorona, and Shizuo sat themselves at the dining room table while Tom brought them their food, beaming with satisfaction. The house was absolutely permeated with the delicious scents of fried fish and spice. The medley’s taste was like nothing any of the guests (excepting Akane) had ever had the opportunity to enjoy. Shizuo attested to its excellence more than once, and Vorona’s eyes were wide and curious. She had never experienced food of this caliber; she’d never had the time. Even Akane managed to clean her plate.

Tom absorbed their compliments with appropriate modesty, assuring them that he did this sort of thing for fun. He didn’t know how to express the love he felt when he saw them savoring his meal. It just felt good, correct, fulfilling.

Vorona helped Tom clear the table while Shizuo turned on the TV in the sitting room. In the end, Akane decided that they would watch ‘Finding Nemo’ with no objections. Tom volunteered to prepare ice cream dishes for everyone while they got comfortable. However when he returned to the sitting room with dessert, he noticed some disagreement. It appeared that the girls were fighting over who got to sit next to Shizuo.

“Yo,” Shizuo waved Tom over with a raised hand.

Akane was pressed firmly into his right side while Vorona was grasping his left arm close to her chest. The two were glaring at each other vehemently.

“You girls better quit it,” Tom warned them, “or you’re not getting ice cream.”

Akane’s behavior improved instantly and Tom handed over her treat. After allowing his boss to settle into the couch, Shizuo clicked a button on the remote and the movie began. Tom had forgotten how splendid the soundtrack was, coloring the room with warm strings. Children’s movies were often superior in that way; their music was so much more empathetic.

If the women continued to quarrel during the movie, nobody noticed. The carpet soon filled with empty dishes as Marlin and Dory’s adventures entertained them. An hour pleasantly crawled past, then forty-five minutes rolled after it. By the end of the movie, the room’s only illumination was the blue glare of the television. Tom blinked hard and rolled his stiff muscles. Akane slept peacefully in Shizuo’s lap, her head rising and falling with his breath. Vorona leaned against his shoulder, her lips pinched in confusion. It may have been a trick of the light, but Tom thought he spied tear tracks on Shizuo’s cheeks.

Tom got to his feet and turned on the sitting room lamp. Vorona deactivated the TV while Shizuo tried to coax Akane awake with no success. The little girl was sound asleep.

“Thanks for everything, Tom.” Shizuo said as Tom walked them to the door. Crickets droned through the windows, inviting the night to stay.

“It’s no problem,” Tom replied earnestly, “you sure you’re alright taking them home?”

Shizuo nodded, adjusting Akane’s weight in his arms. Vorona still looked unhappy. When Tom asked what was wrong, she simply answered:

“Illogical. A father’s love for his offspring is not that strong. It is inconceivable.”

“It’s a story about a talking clownfish, Vorona,” Shizuo explained, amused, “I don’t think their depiction of a father-son relationship is your biggest problem.”

Vorona blushed and mumbled to herself, “Unrealistic expectation. Unfair. Unwanted precedent.”          

“Okay,” Tom chuckled, opening the front door, “no more Disney movies for you.”

Tom and Vorona thanked him again before leaving. He closed the door after them and locked it, setting his security alarm. He had a sink full of dishes to wash, leftovers to package, and ingredients to put away. It was a lot of work, but Tom was glad for it. As he scrubbed the skillet clean, he fondly wished to repeat tonight sometime. Spending time with the three of them was almost like having a family.