Abi got up to pour them a glass of red each, though she couldn’t stop laughing at the guilty look on his face. “Please, you know how many boring sections of books I’ve skipped? It’s the author’s ability to keep the reader hooked, and it’s up to them to keep the interest. Some of that diminishes over time and it’s really different for different readers, but the best authors are the ones you can’t skip.” She set the glasses and the bottle down between them. “Education is a fickle thing, they value some works over others. Most are censored. Like yours, for example. Even in my time, they cut out the language and replaced them with dashes. It’s ridiculous. Apparently in America, you can see the most violent gore in books and on TV but the second someone swears or flashes a breast then it’s taboo...” she rolled her eyes.
Reaching over for the serving spoon, she plucked a breast and thigh from the pot and put both on his plate along with the sauce and vegetables from the bottom. Again, she nodded in agreement. “It is kind of brilliant that we can have these kinds of debates about books. Who knows, you might love some of the modern romantic crap they sell to teenagers and repressed soccer moms.” She wrinkled her nose and doled out the couscous between them, “I’m all for sex in a novel, but Jesus, make it realistic. Still, you should read them for yourself and judge. Though if you like them, it’ll make me wonder about your tastes in fiction.”
She found herself telling her brain and body to relax. It was Hemingway; he wasn’t going to reprimand you for not being the perfect domestic goddess. He can’t have cared about that when he was talking as if she were the only person on the island he talked to about books. It was oddly... touching.
“I have said it before,” she chuckled, sipping her wine, “And I’ll say it again. You want a wild story, I’ll tell you one.” Abi blushed at his words of thanks and looked down, a little embarrassed and a little bit proud too. “You’re welcome. Eat up, it took forever to make.”
The chicken was – gladly – melting off the bone, moist and tender and spicy. She nearly sighed in relief and decided it was him who was wrong if he didn’t like it. “Catherine...” Abi laughed, leaning in closer, “She was very miscast in the movie, you know. Fucking Hollywood.”