So Delicious: A Womans Destiny Is Between Her Legs

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How had a bad day turned even worse? He felt exhausted and wished he were at home in bed. Lyla balanced the large basket of laundry on her hip. Her body ached in every single place imaginable, and she was already picturing what it would be like to sink into bed that night. She set the basket on the floor of the tiny room that she called home. Of course, she knew he was right. All women got married, eventually, whether they liked it or not. Lyla sighed. She was no exception.

Had anyone asked her if that was what she wanted? Did anyone care if she was capable of supporting herself? They had their expectations of her, both family members and strangers. Not that she had much family left. Lyla began folding the clothes and humming a tune to herself. She kept up with all her laundry orders, no matter how long it took to complete them. Lyla paused her work and let her eyes fall on the few possessions she could call her own.

Besides the bed and the tiny table with the wash basin, the room only held a few changes of clothes, her hairbrush, and her diary. People might think it was grim or poor, but for Lyla, fewer things meant less work to take care of them. He was wealthy, fairly young, and wanted to marry her, and that was about as much standard as she could possibly afford to have. She had loved someone, once, and it had ended terribly.

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It had uprooted her entire life and was still wreaking havoc. Lyla thought of how happy her mother would have been if she had met Keith and knew that Lyla was going to marry him. Her parents had warned her about feelings and falling in love. Of course, they had seemed to have plenty of feelings for each other, but they had always assured her that this had happened over time. He was a brusque sort of man, always businesslike, and he spoke roughly to anyone who he had dealings with. Lyla sighed, finally finished with her task.

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She took the clean basket of clothes and set them by the door, then headed downstairs. She and Anne had been working together since Lyla had moved into the hotel. They had built their friendship over the hundreds of dirty dishes that needed washing even though it took until late into the night to get the job done. At least we can suffer together, right? The one bright side of the dinner rush was that they got to eat something before and after their work was done.

There were two heaping plates of hot food waiting for them in the kitchen. The cook slipped two freshly baked biscuits on top of all the other delicious-looking things waiting for them. She sat down and dug into the food, savoring every flavor-filled bite. There was a reason that the hotel restaurant always had someone eating there. Their food was unique and second to none. Every human being could appreciate a meal out once in a while, and Cook made it so that no one could afford not to come to his restaurant.

Ever since she had started working there, everyone had called him Cook. He turned the simplest dishes into delicacies and he always seemed to be cooking.

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She wondered if he ever did anything else, even when he was off work. She could imagine her mother scolding her for that behavior. The thought made her smile as she wiped her finger across the plate once more and then popped it into her mouth. Sadness washed over her for a moment. In reality, she missed them. She was pretty sure that any child missed their parents when they died, no matter how much they had fought while they were alive.

Or maybe even more. She plastered a smile on her face and tied an apron over her dress. There were no two ways about it—she had tables to tend to and she was going to do a good job, no matter how she felt about it. Lyla laid her head onto the counter and turned her head to face Anne. There were stacks upon stacks of dirty plates, pans, bowls, and every other type of dish that was used in a restaurant just waiting on the back counter next to the sink. It was impossible for them to keep up with the dishes as they were dirtied and wait all the tables, so at the end of the night there was always a mountain-load for them to take care of before they could go home.

Who knows? Maybe marrying Keith will be the worst decision of my life. Anne shook her head. Lyla clamped her jaw. Anne raised her eyebrows. I will never understand you. Lyla giggled. I doubt Keith is going to let his pretty wife volunteer dishwashing services at a hotel for free when she has her very own servants.

Anne nodded and the two girls pulled themselves up from their chairs and hurried over to the dishes, to begin the process of preparing them for the next day. But would he control how she spent her free time or who she was friends with?

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The thought made her shiver. She would become one of those wives that was just a pretty face to look at during a business dinner, with no life of her own. Somehow, the task of washing dishes while Anne told jokes Lyla had already heard during the day suddenly seemed like the absolute best thing that she could possibly be doing. Instead, she tried to appreciate every plate she washed and laughed extra hard whenever Anne got to the funny parts. But despite how much Lyla wanted to hang onto the moment, it slipped away, and soon she was trudging up the stairs in a dark hotel, toward her little room with the creaky bed and the cracked wash basin.

She could wish that she had a different life. She could dream of princes and Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice , but she knew that those were just fantasies.


She was stuck in the real world, where men left you alone and crying not two days after they had asked you to marry them. And she lived in a world of noisy city life and the drudgery of work day after day. Lyla flopped down onto her bed and let herself relax slowly, giving her muscles time to adjust to her new position. She stared up at the simple wooden roof above her.

Where would she be sleeping four months from now?

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Would she remember this place when she was there? Would she like it better? Or would she wish she could come back to her days of poverty and pain? Lyla rubbed her hands over her arms and shivered from the cold. She jumped up, dressed for bed, and slipped between the covers, snuggling down under the blankets. She was alone in this world. She was going to marry Keith, but she was going to stick to herself. She tossed and turned in her creaky bed while disturbing dreams haunted her sleep. They reminded her of the miserable future she was about to trap herself into and the terrible past that had pushed her to that decision.

Before dawn showed its face, she slipped out of bed, dressed for the day, and prepared herself for the workday ahead. Lyla has built a stable future for herself, away from the rest of her family. But when her sister dies tragically in a dreadful accident, she has to go west and pick up her nephew, the only survivor. And even though her plan for inexplicable reasons is to avoid being in close contact with him, she will find herself moved by the sheriff asking her to reconsider and let the boy stay with him instead.

Soon enough Lyla will become confused by her conflicting emotions, but will she find the courage to face secrets from the past and eventually follow her heart? James, the local sheriff of Wheatberry, has forgotten what happiness means since his wife died in an unexpected manner. All the more, what he would never expect is that he would end up loving and becoming attached to him. Will he succeed in changing her mind and finally creating the loving family he never had the chance to make? Just when Lyla and James come closer and start trusting and loving each other more and more, ghosts from their past will arrive to haunt them… Will this dreadful situation tear the couple apart?

Share this article. Do the French actually eat frogs' legs, or is it just a horrible myth invented by the English? If you ask someone outside of France to list five things they associate with France, you can bet your last euro that "frogs' legs" will jump out. And it appears they are making a resurgence. She clearly believes her plan has legs.