BING
I sit back and watch Alec as he pounds the punching bag in the corner.
“Do you miss surfing?”
He stops, wipes his forehead, and leans against the wall. “Sometimes. I fit as much in as I can whenever I go back to see Mum, though. Where did that come from?”
I shrug. “I was just wondering. I guess I’m wondering if Jen misses the Bay.”
“Her family? Yes. The Bay? No.” Alec shakes his head. “Jen’s too big for a small town like Lilac Bay.”
“That better not be a reference to the size of my ass, Johnson,” Jen’s voice calls down from the top of the stairs. A smile creeps onto my lips.
“You bet it was,” Alec replies, winking at me. “That thing could block out the sun and cause the next eclipse, Mason.”
“You’m a cheeky little donkey shit, Alec.” She laughs, preceding Lexy down the stairs. “Watch it, or my ass might just sit on you and squash you.”
“I’ll take that,” I mutter, wrapping my arms around her waist when she reaches me. She puts her hands on my shoulders and leans forward, gently pressing her lips to mine.
“Dinner is ready,” she says, looking into my eyes.
“Can we not go straight to dessert?” I ask, running my hands over her hips, noting her tight jeans.
She purses her lips. “No, we can’t. And if that’s the dessert you’re expecting, you’re gonna be well disappointed. Lemon meringue pie.”
“Is it homemade?” Alec pipes up.
Lexy nods. “Yep. Mum made it this morning.”
I look at Alec, and he looks at me. I let Jen go, and we both shoot off towards the stairs. Our feet pound against them as we run, and he pushes past me into the kitchen.
A large lemon meringue pie is sitting on the side on one of Mum’s glass dessert plates. I lick my lips a little. Mum makes the best lemon pie – and she learnt that from Gram.
“Reckon there’s any chance Lexy will ever be able to make a pie like that?” Alec asks hopefully, sitting at the table.
“I reckon there’s more chance than Jen being able to do it,” I reply, sitting too.
“Rule one, lads.” Dad looks at us across the table. “Never underestimate a woman’s ability in the kitchen. They’re either really good or really bad, and neither are anything to be mocked.”
Jen grins at me, taking her seat. “Well, I can cook. If it comes in a packet.”
“I’m worse than that.” Lexy shrugs a shoulder. “I guess we need lessons, ‘cause I can barely scoop ice cream into a bowl.”
“Even I can do that.” Jen laughs.
“But you live alone. I still have Mum cooking for me.”
“So do I,” I remind her. “And I can cook.”
“You can cook?” Jen raises her eyebrows. “Why didn’t I know this?”
“There’s no need to sound so surprised.” I grin. “I learnt from Mum. I need a lot of food you know.”
Dad smiles. “We went away for the weekend when he was eighteen, and he was only worried he wouldn’t be able to eat anything but crap food, so he asked Emily to teach him how to cook.”
“I remember that!” Lexy cries, smiling widely. “Watching my womanizing big brother with an apron on and cooking in the kitchen was probably the highlight of my life.”
“An apron?” Alec smirks.
I pinch my top. “No way am I messing up these clothes, mate.”
“You’re such a girl.” Jen nudges my arm. “You can cook me dinner one night then.”
“Fine.” I grin as Mum puts a large bowl of pasta in the middle of the table. “I’ll cook you dinner tomorrow night.”
Jen looks at Mum. “Should I be worried?”
Mum smiles. “No, love. He’s actually a very good cook. He could teach his sister a thing or two.” Her eyes glide towards Lexy, and my sister pokes her tongue out at me.
Alec grabs one of the spoons in the pasta bowl. “I don’t think I’d trust Bing to make me toast.”
Lexy snorts. “Yes, Alec, because you’re Gordon Ramsey in the kitchen.”
“I burnt it once, Princess! Once!”
“I’ve been known to burn toast on occasion,” Dad pipes in. “It’s easy to forget about.”
Lexy puts her fork down. “You do your toast in the grill. Alec was using a toaster set to the third setting. How do you burn toast on the third setting?”
“Actually,” Jen muses. “It’s possible. One piece of toast will go more than two pieces.”
“I made two pieces,” Alec mutters, stabbing his fork into his pasta.
“Oh, well, then, ha!” Jen laughs. “You suck.”
“Says the ready-meal queen.”
“At least I can make toast without burning it.”
“I made Lexy spaghetti and meatballs once. That was edible.”
“After you’d burnt the spaghetti.” Lexy laughs.
I grin. “It’s a good job I can cook. If I couldn’t, I think Jen would probably have me starve.”
“No. You’d just be eating an awful lot of ready meals which, aren’t actually that good.” She thinks for a second. “Huh. Now I have the washing machine mastered, I should probably get on that cooking thing.”
“You can do bacon. And eggs.” I kick her under the table, and she coughs.
“Yep. But that’s not hard to cook.” She looks down.
“I feel like I’m missing something,” Mum says, looking between us.
Lexy reaches over and pats her arm gently. “If you’re missing it, then you probably don’t want to know it, Mum.”
~
I wander aimlessly through Tesco. I said I’d cook – but no-one told me what to cook, and I have no fuckin’ idea what to make. What am I supposed to cook?
Wait. Am I supposed to take wine and flowers? Where is Alec when I need some help?
I stare at the different types of pasta, pull out my phone, and dial his number. It rings and goes to voicemail. I try it again and the same thing happens. Shit. Looks like I’m going on my gut feeling… And that says yes to flowers and wine. Right.
I manoeuvre the trolley back round, still mulling over what to cook, and head towards the flowers. I’m greeted by too many types and colours to count. Right.
Let’s just go for roses – but not red. Pink, because pink is Jen’s favourite colour.
I scour my eyes over the display, finally finding some pink flowers, and put them in the holder at the end of the trolley. The wine is easy – Vino. Always Vino. I grab a bottle from the shelf, and turn my attention back to the food.
Alec said he’d made Lexy meatballs and spaghetti. It’s simple, but I guess I could that. Does that count as copying? Well, maybe, but I’m not exactly a walking cookbook, am I?
I grab all the ingredients from the shelves, pay at the checkout, and load it into my car. On the way to Jen’s, I glance at the clock about a million times. I have to beat her home.
I’m as nervous as a drug user being searched. Shit.
I let myself into her flat with Lexy’s spare key, and look around. It’s deadly silent. I glance at the clock again. I have an hour to cook and get everything ready before she’ll be back from Uni.
I set the bags on the table, shrug my coat off, and roll up my sleeves. My eyes travel over the numerous bags, settling on the flowers lying in front of them.
Let’s do this.
~