Charthur: Part II

”Er, yeah?” Arthur said. He didn’t get Chardonnay’s annoyance over it, both seemed like fine tasks for him. He blinked when she said she was making a blackberry apple pie. He’d never had that kind of a pie before. ”Nah. No one’s got any allergies. Blackberries are Addy’s favorite, actually, so you’re good.” He said.

He watched as she prepared the ingredients and her work station. He felt somewhat bad that his kitchen was rarely touched. It would function, all right, but he still barely used it. He put his mom’s recipe book down on the table and hooked his thumbs into his jeans. ”I’m assuming you don’t want any help, right? I mean, unless there’s lifting or anything.”

Arthur knew that Chardonnay had to be pissy about pandering to Adelaide’s likes at her tone. It made her snort. She was so selfish sometimes: wasn’t it a good think Adelaide liked the pie? Whatever. Arthur wasn’t going to bitch. He was about to go and sit in the living room to do... whatever, when Chardonnay actually asked if he could peel an apple. The question made him scoff.

”Course I do. I told you. I can cook.” He said. He approached her, and turned on the sink, washing his hands. It was odd she wanted him to help out, but he would take it. He wanted to be of use, after all. ”So, you just need me to peel all of them?” he asked her, wiping off his hands.

”Not just stew. I have the capacity to cook.” Arthur felt personally attacked each time she insulted his cooking. What! Just because he didn’t love it, or cook all the time, made him bad? He’d never been awful. He’d learned since he was a kid, how to cook breakfast for Susan when she came home from the midnight Denny’s shift. Or how to cook dinner for her when she had only an hour to eat between jobs. He was going to impress Chardonnay with this Turkey. He had even – uncharacteristically – had bought the best and most expensive turkey he could find. The best one. Whatever. He wanted to prove he could cook. And not just stew.

He glanced at the knife when she offered it, initially half-listening until he saw the knife. His eyes widened at the sharp edge of the blade. Holy shit. He took the handle, examining it. ”Okay... most knives are.” he said. He took the knife and began to peel the apples – surprised at how easily the blade turned. He nearly nicked himself. ”Holy shit!” He said, pausing to look at the blade in fascination. He’d had sharp knives, but never one this sharp. For a moment, he wished he owned one this sharp. He went back to peeling with more care this time. ”This is a fucking sweet blade.”

Arthur peeled the first apple with ease, moving onto the second one shortly after. The blade was so smooth as it sliced the skin right off. He wondered how a blade got so sharp; even his sharpest knives wouldn’t cut through the skin of the apple with ease, like it was a skater gliding on ice. He was entranced by the knife, moving onto the third apple after a brief amount of time.

He barely remembered Chardonnay was there until she told him not to have an orgasm. He rolled his eyes. ”Don’t worry, that hasn’t happened in a while.” He said. He finished the apple and focused on the blade again. It didn’t dull, and when he held it closer to his face he examined the streaks of moisture where the blade had struck. ”I’m not going to ruin them. I haven’t seen a knife like this before. It’s probably a chef’s knife, right? This could probably cut through a person so easily.” He said the last line with more fascination than horror, and he didn’t necessarily mean it in a gory way. It was just... so intriguing.

”This makes my steak knife look dull.” He said, grabbing another apple.

Arthur went through the next apple, placing it down on the counter in front of Chardonnay and grabbing the next one. It glided across the fruit easily. ”Really? I guess not – this is pretty dangerous. A peeler’s probably better.” He said. He watched as she sliced through the apples with another knife, easily. He knew they had to be pricey. He looked at the case, seeing the insignia on it that signaled this was a name brand item.

He glanced at Chardonnay again. ”It’s not dull. It cuts fairly well. But this could probably slice through steak like paper...” He blinked. ”Where did you get these? I mean. You probably got them somewhere I wouldn’t dream of going. But this is a really good knife...” He exhaled.

”I know. Sometimes, you need to buy expensive things because it’s worth having a reliable product than a crap one. But my family hasn’t always been able to afford nice things.” He finished the apple and put it aside. ”And I usually try to prioritize necessities over luxuries. It’s just... hard to put aside that mentality most of the time. It’s not that I don’t like nice things, I just don’t... like to waste. But this kind of a blade would make cooking so much easier.” Not that Chardonnay would understand not having any money. He went back to peeling, still fascinated by the knife. ”It’s probably ridiculously expensive... but it’s a good product.”

Arthur nodded. ”I figured you ordered them special. That’s pretty cool though – that you know the maker. It means you can really guarantee they’re good products. And you go through the same person so you don’t have to deal with a middle man. Dealing with them is always the most annoying since most of them make commission.” He finished another apple, placing it into Chardonnay’s pile as he grabbed another. ”Yeah. I know you didn’t. Which is why we hated each other as teens. You were always just completely... different than me. And I never really thought you were anything other than a spoiled brat. I know what you thought of me, but...” He sighed and had to slow down, before he nicked himself on the knife.

”I know your definition of necessary and mine differ. And I don’t think you buy luxury items just to... have them anymore. I mean, you’re more accomplished than that. You’re not just some airhead who buys the prettiest things. Even though you do generally buy the prettiest things.” He focused intensely on his apple. At her question, he shrugged. ”Yeah. I do have to have the best products to keep business and customers coming back. Though with a theater it’s mainly focused on the snacks we offer and the films. Everything else isn’t as major. So we really upsell customer service. We have a lot of regulars who come in; I listen to their opinions on what we offer and if I get enough complaints or suggestions for a certain change, I make it. So in a way, yes, and in a way no.”

Arthur nodded, figuring she didn’t go through as many middle men as she could avoid. Though he was somewhat surprised t how much she really put thought into her products. He thought they were over the top for sure. Who needed to spend that much on fancy food? But he could respect she used the best products, and that she actually sent employees over to scout the areas to ensure the products were kept up to standard. It seemed like a lot, but that was what kept her business up and running. He could respect that.

He gave her a look when she said they grew up and that they were actually similar. It was... weird, to think they were similar, but that was why they were drawn to each other, aside from their physical bodies. That was the reason he actually enjoyed spending time with her (when she wasn’t being a massive bitch, anyway).

”Honestly, she’s the only reason I went to Metric. I didn’t want to leave New York, at first.” He shrugged. ”But I got in on my own. Teaching here was a great opportunity for my sister. And she refused to leave me behind. So I told her I wanted to act and got in.” He said. ”I didn’t really find out I liked business until college. I guess I lucked out, otherwise I’d be stuck in some kind of acting career I hated. I never told Susan that, though, I just told her my dreams changed.”

He watched as she bent down, noticed her struggling, and put the knife and apple down to help. However by the time he did, she was already done and straightening up. ”If you need me to get anything for you I will,” he said, eyeing the skillet warily. When she said she had the prettiest things because they had to match, his lips tilted up into a half-smirk. ”Right.” He said, amused. Their businesses were different. He went back to the apples, now on the last one. Her question made him think.

”Jason.” He said. ”Movies have anyways been my escape. Jason’s theater was more of a physical escape. He always trusted me with shit, and treated me sort of... I don’t know. Different? Like he knew I could do it.” He finished up the apple and put it to the side. ”I knew I wanted to go into a business in college, but Jason really sold me on the theater.”