Red Sauce and Noodles

"I don’t know the Italian name, but that’s what it is."

The familiar scent of garlic and tomatoes flooded the cramped apartment as Elliot slung off his laptop bag.

His wife, Lina, was busy stirring a pot, tendrils of steam tickling her face.

There was chipped paint all over the stove, and it sometimes gave off a troubling smell.

The kitchen was nothing more than a stove, counter, and fridge tucked against the wall of the living room. After Elliot set down his bag, it was only a step away from his wife, greeting her with a tight embrace and a kiss on the cheek.

“I missed you,” he said.

She smiled, her weary eyes brightening for only a moment.

“Me too,” she said. “Do you remember that Italian restaurant we visited on our honeymoon?”

He leaned against the fridge with a leisurely stance, letting the moment wipe away the stress of the workday. “Yeah, of course. Is that what we’re having for dinner?”

Her smile gleamed. “Red sauce and noodles!”

Elliot broke out in uncontrollable laughter, extending his arm against the fridge for support.

Lina chuckled once, in surprise. “What’s going on?”

“Red sauce and noodles?” he said. “Is that what they called it at the restaurant?”

She threw her arms wide, sauce-covered spoon and all. “Oh, come on! I don’t know the Italian name, but that’s what it is.”

Elliot’s eyes glimmered with that playfulness that seemed to make the ordinary always exciting.

“Honey… That’s spaghetti.”

She blinked. “No, my mom’s made this since I was little. Red sauce and noodles.”

Elliot reached in the pot and pulled out a slithery noodle. “This is spaghetti.”

Lina planted her free hand on her hip, pointing at the dishes with her spoon. “No, noodles,” she said, then gestured to the other pot, “and red sauce.”

Elliot couldn’t keep up the facade and wrapped her in a hug. “It smells delicious.”

Their time together was short-lived before Elliot had to leave for his second shift. Some nights like that were easier than others.

Tuesdays, he worked an early shift, so he could get home in time to cook dinner for her before he left again.

They shopped together on the weekends to stock up on spaghetti and sauce.

“What’s for dinner?” he would ask, watching his graceful wife weave around the kitchen as if this simple meal was a five-course delight.

“Red sauce and noodles,” she would always respond.

And they would talk, and they would eat, and then he would leave for his second shift.

He walked into the kitchen, and as spouses tend to notice, something was different. Off.

She settled the spoon on the edge of the pan, letting the red sauce drip from its end.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, grabbing a hold of his hand.

Tears brimmed Elliot’s eyes, but he let out a cathartic laugh, as hard a laugh as he had in a long time. “I got the job,” he said.

Lina was silent, her eyes wide. She gripped his hand tighter before letting go, squeezing him in a bear hug as he twirled her around.

They laughed, and laughed, and finally stopped their celebrations.

“Lina, tomorrow, let’s go get red sauce and noodles from a restaurant.”

Thanks to TiF for featuring me in their weekly roundup!