โMy name is Elizabeth Zott, and this isย Supper at Six.โ
Hands on her hips, her lips outlined in Brick Red, her thick hair pulled back into a simple French twist secured with a number-two pencil, Elizabeth leveled her gaze and looked directly into the camera.
โExciting news,โ she said. โToday weโre going to study three different types of chemical bonds: ionic, covalent, and hydrogen. Why learn about bonds? Because when you do you will grasp the very foundation of life. Plus, your cakes will rise.โ
From homes all over Southern California, women pulled out paper and pencils.
โIonic is the โopposites attractโ chemical bond,โ Elizabeth explained as she emerged from behind the counter and began to sketch on an easel. โFor instance, letโs say you wrote your PhD thesis on free market economics, but your husband rotates tires for a living. You love each other, but heโs probably not interested in hearing about the invisible hand. And who can blame him, because you know the invisible hand is libertarian garbage.โ
She looked out at the audience as various people scribbled notes, several of which read โInvisible hand: libertarian garbage.โ
โThe point is, you and your husband are completely different and yet you still have a strong connection. Thatโs fine. Itโs also ionic.โ She paused, lifting the sheet of paper over the top of the easel to reveal a fresh page of newsprint.
โOr perhaps your marriage is more of a covalent bond,โ she said, sketching a new structural formula. โAnd if so, lucky you, because that means you both have strengths that, when combined, create something even better. For example, when hydrogen and oxygen combine, what do we get? Waterโor H2O as itโs more commonly known. In many respects, the
covalent bond is not unlike a partyโone thatโs made better thanks to the pie you made and the wine he brought. Unless you donโt like partiesโ I donโt
โin which case you could also think of the covalent bond as a small European country, say Switzerland.ย Alps,ย she quickly wrote on the easel,ย + a Strong Economy = Everybody Wants to Live There.
In a living room in La Jolla, California, three children fought over a toy dump truck, its broken axle lying directly adjacent to a skyscraper of ironing that threatened to topple a small woman, her hair in curlers, a small pad of paper in her hands.ย Switzerland,ย she wrote.ย Move.
โThat brings us to the third bond,โ Elizabeth said, pointing at another set of molecules, โthe hydrogen bondโthe most fragile, delicate bond of all. I call this the โlove at first sightโ bond because both parties are drawn to each other based solely on visual information: you like his smile, he likes your hair. But then you talk and discover heโs a closet Nazi and thinks women complain too much. Poof. Just like that the delicate bond is broken. Thatโs the hydrogen bond for you, ladiesโ a chemical reminder that if things seem too good to be true, they probably are.โ
She walked back behind the counter and, exchanging the marker for a knife, took a Paul Bunyan swing at a large yellow onion, cleaving it in two. โItโs chicken pot pie night,โ she announced. โLetโs get started.โ
โSee?โ a woman in Santa Monica demanded as she turned to her sullen seventeen-year-old daughter, the girlโs eyeliner so thick, it looked as if planes could land there. โWhat did I tell you? Your bond with that boy is hydrogen only. When are you going to wake up and smell the ions?โ
โNot this again.โ
โYou could go to college. You could be something!โ โHe loves me!โ
โHeโs holding you back!โ
โMore after this,โ Elizabeth said as the cameraman indicated a commercial break.
From his producerโs chair, Walter Pine slumped. After a massive amount of groveling, heโd managed to get Phil Lebensmal to extend Zottโs contract for another six months, but only by agreeing that sexy was in, science was out. The clock, Phil had warned, was really ticking this time. According to him, theyโd been getting a lot of complaints. Walter broached the subject with Elizabeth just before the show. โWe have to make a few changes,โ he explained.
Sheโd listened, nodding her head thoughtfully, as if considering each change carefully. โNo,โ she said.
In addition to that little problem, Amanda had some stupid family tree assignment that demanded a current family photographย withย mommy, even though mommy was long out of the picture. Worse, it insisted on celebrating the biological relationship between himself and his child, a bond that did not exist and never would. Obviously, he was planning on telling Amanda the truth and soon: that her lousy mother was never coming back and that, technically, he and she werenโt related in any way. Adopted children had the right to know. He was waiting for the right moment. Her fortieth birthday.
โ
โWalter,โ Elizabeth said as she strode toward him. โHave you heard from your insurance people? As you know, tomorrowโs show focuses on combustion, and while I continue to believe thereโs really no significant danger, Iโ Walter?โ She waved her hand in front of his face. โWalter?โ
โSixty seconds, Zott,โ said the cameraman.
โIt wouldnโt hurt to have a couple of extra fire extinguishers on hand. Again, Iโd prefer the nitrogen propellant over the newer water and foam models, but thatโs just me; Iโm sure either one will do the job. Walter? Are you listening? Respond.โ She frowned, then turned back to the stage. โIโll catch you next break.โ
As she made her way back up onstage, Walter turned to watch her mount the steps, her blue trousersโshe was wearingย trousersโbelted high on the waist. Who did she think she was? Katharine Hepburn? Lebensmal would go ballistic. He turned, motioning for the makeup woman.
โYes, Mr. Pine?โ said Rosa, her hands full of small sponges. โDid you need something? Zottโs face was fine, by the way. She wasnโt glistening.โ
He sighed. โSheย neverย glistens,โ he said. โDespite the fact that those lights alone would sear a steak in thirty seconds, she never breaks a sweat. How is that possible?โ
โItย isย unusual,โ Rosa agreed.
โAnd weโre back,โ he heard Elizabeth say as she pointed both hands at the camera.
โPlease be normal,โ whispered Walter.
โNow,โ Elizabeth said to her at-home viewers, โIโm confident you used our short break to chop your carrots, celery, and onions into small disparate units, thereby creating the necessary surface area to facilitate the uptake of seasoning, as well as to shorten cooking time. So now things look like this,โ she said, tipping a pan at the camera. โNext, apply a liberal amount of sodium chlorideโโ
โWould it kill her to say salt?โ Walter hissed.ย โWould it?โ
โI like how she uses science-y words,โ Rosa said. โIt makes me feelโ I donโt knowโcapable.โ
โCapable?โ he said. โCapable?ย What happened to wanting to feel slim and beautiful? And what the hell is going on with those trousers? Where did those come from?โ
โAre you okay, Mr. Pine?โ Rosa asked. โCan I get you something?โ โYes,โ he said. โCyanide.โ
Several more minutes passed as Elizabeth led viewers through the chemical makeup of various other ingredients, explaining, as she added each to the pan, which bonds were being created.
โThere,โ she said, tipping the pan to the camera again. โWhat do we have now? A mixture, which is a combination of two or more pure substances in which each substance retains its individual chemical
properties. In the case of our chicken pot pie, notice how your carrots, peas, onions, and celery are mixed yet remain separate entities. Think about that. A successful chicken pot pie is like a society that functions at a highly efficient level. Call it Sweden. Here every vegetable has its place. No single bit of produce demands to be more important than another. And when you throw in the additional spicesโgarlic, thyme, pepper, and sodium chloride
โyouโve created a flavor that not only enhances each substanceโs texture but balances the acidity. Result? Subsidized childcare. Although Iโm sure Sweden has its problems, too. Skin cancer at the very least.โ She took a cue from the cameraman. โWeโll be right back after this station identification.โ
โWhat wasย that?โ Walter gasped. โWhat did she say?โ
โSubsidized childcare,โ Rosa said as she sponged his forehead. โWe should get that on the ballot.โ She leaned down, taking in a vein pulsing on Walterโs forehead. โListen, why donโt I go get you some acetylsalicylic acid. Itโllโโ
โWhat didย youย say?โ he hissed, batting her sponge away. โSubsidized childcare.โ
โNo, the otherโโ
โAcetylsalicylic acid?โ
โAspirin,โย he demanded hoarsely. โHere at KCTV, we call itย aspirin.ย Bayer aspirin. Want to know why? Because Bayer is one of our sponsors. The people who pay our bills. Ring any bells? Say it.ย Aspirin.โ
โAspirin,โ she said. โBack in a flash.โ
โWalter?โ Elizabethโs voice came abruptly from above, causing him to jump.
โJesus, Elizabeth!โ he said. โMust you sneak up on me?โ โI wasnโt sneaking. Your eyes were closed.โ
โI wasย thinking.โ
โAbout the fire extinguishers? So was I. Letโs say three. Two will be sufficient, but three should almost completely eradicate any possibility of tragedy. Up to, or slightly beyond, ninety-nine percent.โ
โMy god,โ he shuddered to himself as he wiped his damp palms on his pants. โIs this a nightmare? Why canโt I wake up?โ
โYouโre wondering about the other one percent,โ Elizabeth said. โWell donโt. That tiny amount is mostly act-of-God stuffโearthquakes, tsunamis
โthings we canโt possibly anticipate because the science isnโt there yet.โ She paused, straightening her belt. โWalter, donโt you find it interesting that people even use that term โact of Godโ? Considering that most want to believe that God is about lambs and love and babies in mangers, and yet this same so-called benevolent being smites innocent people left and right, indicating an anger management problemโmaybe even manic depression. In a psychiatric ward, such a patient would be subjected to electroshock therapy. Which I donโt favor. Electroshock therapy is still largely unproven. But isnโt it interesting that acts of God and electroshock therapy share so much in common? In terms of being violent, cruelโโ
โSixty seconds, Zott.โ
โโunforgiving, barbarousโโ โJesus, Elizabeth, please.โ
โAnyway, letโs say three. Every woman should know how to put out a fire. Weโll start with the smothering technique, then when that fails, go to nitrogen.โ
โForty seconds, Zott.โ
โAnd what is with the trousers?โ Walter said, his teeth clenched so tightly, the words barely emerged.
โWhat do you mean?โ
โYou know what I mean.โ
โDo you like them? You must. You wear them all the time and I can see why. Theyโre very comfortable. Donโt worry; I plan to give you full credit.โ
โNo! Elizabeth, Iย neverโโ
โHereโs your aspirin, Mr. Pine,โ Rosa interrupted, appearing at his side. โAnd Zottโlet me take a quick look at yourโgood, goodโturn your face the other way nowโgoodโamazing, really. Okay, youโre all set.โ
โZott, in ten,โ called the cameraman. โAre you sick, Walter?โ
โHave you seen the family tree project?โ he whispered. โEight seconds, Zott.โ
โYou look pale, Walter.โ
โTheย tree,โ he barely eked out.
โFree? But I thought you said I couldnโt give things away anymore.โ
Elizabeth climbed back up onstage and turning to the camera said, โAnd weโre back.โ
โI donโt know what you think you gave me,โ Walter snapped at Rosa, โbut itโs not working.โ
โIt takes time.โ
โWhich I donโtย have,โ he said. โGive me the bottle.โ โYouโve already taken the max.โ
โOh really?โ he snapped, shaking the bottle. โThen explain why there are still some in here.โ
โNow pour your version of Sweden,โ Elizabeth was saying, โinto the starch, lipid, and protein molecule configuration you rolled out earlierโ your piecrustโthe one whose chemical bonds were enabled using the water molecule, H2O, and through which you created the perfect marriage of stability and structure.โ She paused, her now-floured hands pointing at a
piecrust filled with vegetables and chicken.
โStability and structure,โ she repeated, looking out at the studio audience. โChemistry is inseparable from lifeโby its very definition, chemistryย isย life. But like your pie, life requires a strong base. In your home, you are that base. It is an enormous responsibility, the most undervalued job in the world that, nonetheless, holds everything together.โ
Several women in the studio audience nodded vigorously.
โTake a moment now to admire your experiment,โ Elizabeth continued. โYouโve used the elegance of chemical bonding to construct a crust that will both house and enhance the flavor of your constituents. Consider your filling one more time, then ask yourself: What does Sweden want? Citric acid? Maybe. Sodium chloride? Probably. Adjust. When youโre satisfied, lay your second crust on top like a blanket, crimping the edges to create a seal. Then make a few short slashes across the top, creating a vent. The purpose of the vent is to give the water molecule the space it needs to
convert to steam and escape. Without that vent, your pie is Mount Vesuvius. To protect your villagers from certain death, always slash.โ
She picked up a knife and made three short slits on top. โThere,โ she said. โNow pop it in your oven at three hundred seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. Bake for approximately forty-five minutes.โ She looked up at the clock.
โIt looks like we have a little extra time,โ she said. โPerhaps I could take a question from the studio audience.โ She looked at the cameraman, who held a finger up to his throat as if to slit it. โNO, NO, NO,โ he mouthed.
โHello,โ she said, pointing at a woman in the front row, her glasses perched atop a stiff hairdo, her thick legs swathed in support hose.
โIโm Mrs. George Fillis from Kernville,โ the woman said nervously as she stood up, โand Iโm thirty-eight years old. I just wanted to say how much I enjoy your show. I . . I canโt believe how much Iโve learned. I know Iโm not the brightest bulb,โ she said, her face pink with shame, โthatโs what my husband always saysโand yet last week when you said osmosis was the movement of a less concentrated solvent through a semipermeable membrane to another more concentrated solvent, I found myself wondering ifโฆwellโฆโ
โGo on.โ
โWell, if my leg edema might not be a by-product of faulty hydraulic conductivity combined with an irregular osmotic reflection coefficient of plasma proteins. What do you think?โ
โA very detailed diagnosis, Mrs. Fillis,โ Elizabeth said. โWhat kind of medicine do you practice?โ
โOh,โ the woman stumbled, โno, Iโm not a doctor. Iโm just a housewife.โ
โThere isnโt a woman in the world who isย justย a housewife,โ Elizabeth said. โWhat else do you do?โ
โNothing. A few hobbies. I like to read medical journals.โ โInteresting. What else?โ
โSewing.โ
โClothes?โ โBodies.โ
โWound closures?โ
โYes. I have five boys. Theyโre always tearing holes in themselves.โ โAnd when you were their age you envisioned yourself becomingโโ โA loving wife and mother.โ
โNo, seriouslyโโ
โAn open-heart surgeon,โ the woman said before she could stop herself. The room filled with a thick silence, the weight of her ridiculous dream hanging like too-wet laundry on a windless day. Open-heart surgery? For a moment it seemed as if the entire world was waiting for the laughter that should follow. But then from one end of the audience came a single unexpected clapโimmediately followed by anotherโand then anotherโ and then ten moreโand then twenty moreโand soon everyone in the audience was on their feet and someone called out, โDr. Fillis, heart
surgeon,โ and the clapping became thunderous.
โNo, no,โ the woman insisted above the noise. โI was only kidding. I canโt actually do that. Anyway, itโs too late.โ
โItโs never too late,โ Elizabeth insisted. โBut I couldnโt. Canโt.โ
โWhy.โ
โBecause itโs hard.โ
โAnd raising five boys isnโt?โ
The woman touched her fingertips to the small beads of sweat dotting her forehead. โBut where would someone like me even start?โ
โThe public library,โ Elizabeth said. โFollowed by the MCATs, school, and residency.โ
The woman suddenly seemed to realize that Elizabeth took her seriously. โYouย reallyย think I could do it?โ she said, her voice trembling.
โWhatโs the molecular weight of barium chloride?โ โ208.23.โ
โYouโll be fine.โ
โBut my husbandโโ
โIs a lucky man. By the way, itโs Free Day, Mrs. Fillis,โ Elizabeth said, โsomething my producer just invented. To show our support for your fearless future, youโll be taking home my chicken pot pie. Come on up and get it.โ
Amid roaring applause, Elizabeth handed the now-determined-looking Mrs. Fillis the foil-covered pie. โWeโre officially out of time,โ Elizabeth said. โBut I hope youโll tune in tomorrow as we explore the world of kitchen conflagrations.โ
Then she looked right through the camera lens, and almost as if she divined it, directly into the astonished faces of Mrs. George Fillisโs five children sprawled in front of the TV in Kernville, their eyes open wide, their mouths agape, as if they had just seen their mother for the very first time.
โBoys, set the table,โ Elizabeth commanded. โYour mother needs a moment to herself.โ