Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“Pancakes,” Torri said, nodding to herself as she looked at what she had to work with. “And bacon and coffee—though I’m afraid we’ll have to take it black, unless you like powdered creamer.”
“I’ll be happy to eat whatever you cook,” Vic said politely. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Just sit there and look pretty,” Torri said, grinning.
“Look ‘pretty’?” Vic frowned. “How do I do that?”
Torri waved a hand dismissively.
“It’s just an old joke my grandparents used to tell. Grandpa Pete would ask if he could help in the kitchen and sometimes Nana would put him to work. But if there was nothing she wanted him to do, she’d tell him to just sit there and look pretty. Really it means I just want you to sit here and keep me company while I cook,” she explained, when he still looked confused.
“Oh, I can do that.” Vic nodded and looked around the kitchen, which was in the back part of the large A-shaped frame of the house. “This is a very well- designed food prep area,” he remarked. “Though your appliances are different from any I have ever seen.”
“What, you don’t have microwaves and stoves?” Torri asked, as she thawed out the bacon and then started on the pancake batter. She would have to use the powdered eggs Nana had kept in case of emergency, but hopefully it wouldn’t be a problem.
“We have waves—they emit many hundreds of tiny lasers to cook food very rapidly,” Vic explained.
“Sounds really high tech,” Torri remarked. “I hope I get to see it while I’m aboard the, uh, Mother Ship.” She shook her head. “It still sounds so weird to say that. I feel like I’m living in a sci-fi movie!”
“Yes, the Kindred have watched many of your science fiction vids,” Vic said. “Most of them get things completely wrong. But you cannot help that you have primitive science,” he added kindly.
Torri snorted as she started the bacon in one cast iron skillet and got out a round, cast iron griddle for the pancakes. The cinnamon apples were already heating in a pot on the back of the stove.
“Thanks a lot. I’m sure all the leaders of Earth will be happy to hear how backwards we are and that you only want us for our women,” she remarked.
“That’s not true,” Vic said earnestly. “There is much to learn from any species—no matter how technologically advanced they are or are not. We will be happy to do cultural exchanges with your people. We—” He stopped and sniffed the air, his eyes going wide. “What is that amazing smell?”
“That, my friend, is bacon frying.” Torri grinned with satisfaction. “Not bad, huh?”
“Bacon? You mean the limp strips of greasy meat they served at St. Elizabeth’s?” he asked.
“First of all, bacon is not supposed to taste like that,” Torri said firmly. “I don’t know what they did to it there, but they definitely weren’t cooking it right. Bacon should be crisp and delicious—not limp and soggy.”
She transferred the perfectly crisp bacon to a plate with paper towels on it as she spoke and then flipped the pancakes. Breakfast was almost ready.
“There are other good smells too.” Vic lifted his face, inhaling deeply. “Sweet and warm and comforting—what is that?”
“You’re probably smelling my Nana’s cinnamon apple preserves,” Torri told him. “I’m heating some up to serve on top of the pancakes.”
As she spoke, she transferred the fluffy, golden-brown pancakes onto another plate and then poured the cinnamon apples into a serving bowl.
Vic got up to help her bring the plates to the table, sniffing everything with apparent eagerness that made Torri smile. She hadn’t known how to cook before she moved in with Nana, but her grandmother had insisted on teaching her.
“It might sound old-fashioned and foolish but the way to a man’s heart really is through his stomach,” she had told Torri. “And learning to cook is its own reward—you’ll never go hungry or have to live off that fast-food slop they serve everywhere as long as you have a little cooking know-how to call on.”
Torri smiled as she remembered Nana’s words and served Vic a plate heaped with fluffy pancakes covered in cinnamon apples with crispy bacon on the side.
He took a bite of bacon and closed his eyes in delight.
“Torri, this is delicious!” he murmured, when he finished chewing.
“Thank you. Try the pancakes,” she suggested.
Vic tried a bite of the cinnamon apple pancakes and moaned happily.
“So good! And so different from the food they served us in St. Elizabeth’s,” he remarked.
“The stuff they served there was barely food,” Torri agreed.
“It wasn’t very good,” Vic admitted. “I thought all Earth food was like that.”
“Well, now you know differently.” She grinned. “Dig in—we have a big day.”
Vic nodded and ate eagerly, having seconds of everything, which did Torri’s heart good, especially when he asked for more of Nana’s cinnamon apples.