Part 14 (2/2)
”I can do this!” Jack snapped, taking a swig of the brandy and spilling a few drops across the towel that trailed from his shoulder to his chest.
He'd heated a portion of the brandy with the sugar, stirring until the crystals were dissolved. He'd already made the sauce that would cover the fruit in the pan and the ice cream already in the dessert dishes. All that was left was to set the d.a.m.n thing on fire.
”Want me to do it?” Chuck asked.
”No!” He gave an oh-what-the-h.e.l.l s.h.i.+ver, grabbed the cherries and dumped them into the pan. Picked up the match...struck...lit.
No explosion.
Jack grinned and chuckled to himself. ”You da man-you da man!”
He watched the flame with delicious enthusiasm, stirring and chanting to himself gleefully.
”Hey!” he hollered, turning and hoping to catch Chuck's surprised look once he re-entered the cabin to see what a magnificent job the new cook had done.
”Ta-da!” Jack crowed, flinging the towel from his shoulder and waving it around his head.
”Oh, s.h.i.+t!” Chuck hollered back, racing toward him.
”What?” Jack asked, whirling to look at his pan just in time to dodge the flaming ends of the towel he'd thrown over his shoulder.
Jack dropped the offending towel before it burned him then gasped as heat seared his skin. The next thing he knew, Chuck had picked up the broom by the door and was beating his chest with it.
”Get out of that s.h.i.+rt!” Chuck bellowed.
By then the girls had entered the cabin, and n.o.body was laughing now. Jack ripped off his s.h.i.+rt with help from Marilyn while Colette found the fire extinguisher and showered the room with chemical solution.
A flash of fire zipped from burner toward ceiling as Chuck grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his arm and hand and picked up the burning pan.
”O-o-oh...that's not good!” Jack groaned.
The next few seconds were a blur of broom to chest, pan to sink, s.h.i.+rt to floor, women and men to the front porch while smoke billowed throughout the cabin.
”Aw, man!” Jack grouched, surveying the smoking cabin.
”You're hurt!” Marilyn cried, her fingers lightly touching his shoulder as she peered closer at the pink splotches on his chest. ”You need to put some ice on that!”
”I'll get it!” Chuck said, rus.h.i.+ng back inside and jerking open the freezer door.
Ten minutes, four melted dishes of ice cream and one scorched pan of sugar and brandy later, the haggard friends sat on Jack's front porch glumly staring at one another.
”I killed the kitchen,” Jack muttered tonelessly, gently touching his bare chest where Marilyn had administered ointment to cover his minor burns.
”But you saved the brandy!” Marilyn said, noting the bottle in Jack's hands.
She bit her lips, but her eyes watered with unshed tears from laughter and smoke.
Jack fired her a smoldering look.
”What?” She stared at him helplessly.
Then one after another, the three visitors started sn.i.g.g.e.ring then giggling.
”Aren't you at least glad that Robert and Marie didn't witness this?” Chuck asked.
”I'm gonna hit you, Chuck.” Jack c.o.c.ked a fist menacingly.
Chuck whistled then dodged as if his friend had delivered the punch.
”Well, you can't stay here tonight,” Colette said when she'd recovered from laughing. ”I mean... the smell is awful!”
”You can stay with me,” Chuck added, ”but you need access to your kitchen early tomorrow so you can clean this mess up. I'll help, but-”
Jack looked at his friend's puffy face and watery eyes. ”No. You and your allergies need to be as far away from this as possible.” He turned to Marilyn. ”That leaves you.”
”Me?”
”You. I need to stay either on my porch or with you tonight. I have to get up early enough to work on this before the rest of the guests start arriving. Can't have my compet.i.tion finding my kitchen scorched.”
”I can stay with Chuck!” Colette chimed in.
”What's that going to look like?” Marilyn asked. ”Won't-”
”Robert and Marie won't arrive until tomorrow. Hopefully late,” Jack said. ”If I don' t stay up too late, I can be over here and do damage control before they get here and act like I'm still living here instead of staying over at your cabin.”
He groaned before adding, ”My brother will never let me live this down.”
”You've pretty much screwed the pooch,” Chuck agreed. ”But you didn't cause too much structural damage. The place just needs to be aired out, and you need a new countertop. And a rug for that burn mark on the floor.”
”And a new stove and new cookware,” Jack added.
”My dad and uncle are arriving tomorrow,” Marilyn said nervously. ”I can't have my dad thinking I'm boinking one of the contestants.”
”Then it's settled,” Colette said. ”You must a.s.sign yourself to be Jack's monitor, whether Jack likes it or not. Your uncle can work with Robert and your dad with Marie. That way all three contestants will have equal representation from the publis.h.i.+ng house, and n.o.body will think anything about Jack staying with you. But we do need to explain, to say something as to why he slept at our place.”
”And the judges?” Marilyn asked.
”I'm sure we'll find some unsuspecting people who'll volunteer quite willingly,” Colette cooed. ”Don't worry about it. This is still doable.”
”Sure,” Chuck added. ”Colette can take over your job of making sure the supplies are all here and intact, and I'll run interference with the paying customers, making sure they have everything they need, like schedules and gift bags. Meanwhile, you-” he said, pointing at Marilyn, ”or I are in charge of Jack's cooking lessons. I'll help as I can, but I really think you should be helping him.”
<script>