The Matchmaker

Chapter 24

"Am I doing this right?" I can't do anything but stare at Zander in amazement; with the right palm of my hand against my forehead and my lips firmly pressed together. I wish I could give the poor guy some reassurance; I have never in my life, come across a person who didn't know how to make a fruit salad.

Looking down at the bowl with a frown, his eyes glance at me worriedly, "shouldn't I add mayonnaise?"

Alarmed, my eyes widen from the horror of such a suggestion. "It's a fruit salad not potato salad!"

"But if mayonnaise can be added in potato salad why not fruit salad?"

Shaking my head vehemently, I do my best to dissuade him with dramatic hand gestures. "There are rules and boundaries to everything, especially food. Don't you dare apply that sense of logic to everything you hear me?"

"But it's – "

Entering the kitchen, Patrick glares at Zander's salad with disgust, "Dog food bro."

"Shut the hell up Pat!"

"Hey, I call it what it is. And are those supposed to be apple slices? These apples look like they were hacked by an army knife."

Crossing his arms defensively, Zander takes a threatening step towards Patrick and all I can think of is Patrick's poor life coming to an end as the knife in Zander's hand gleams as light streams in through the window. "You blind or something?" Zander asked, menacingly.

Narrowing his eyes, the taunting expression on Patrick's face doesn't slide off  before bleating, "More like haphazardly cut blocks...that doesn't even look edible." 

Now I'm really scared, wedging myself between the two of them, my eyes never leave the knife as I try pushing Zander back. "Okay whoa guys, no need to fight over cut fruit."

"He started it!" They yell simultaneously, glaring at one another.

"Hey, I happen to be proud of my fruit chopping. Don't mock me!" Waving the knife around, both Patrick and I step back nervously. Gulping involuntarily, I chicken out and move to stand behind Patrick, using him as a human shield. "Like I said guys, could you not fight?"

"Look what you did idiot, now she's scared!" Patrick chides, craning his head like some smug bird. 

Peering over the side of Patrick's arm, I can't help but heave a sigh of relief as Zander finally places the knife down. "Actually I'm – " My words get cut off by Patrick's hand resting against my shoulder.

"Trust me, there's nothing I can do that could hurt her more than eating fruit salad containing mayonnaise." Whipping his head around to look at Zander with an evil grin, my eyes travel to Zander who silently grabs the knife once again.

"Says the guy who thought putting ketchup on pancakes was a smart idea."

"Listen, the aesthetic appeal it had was pretty awesome."

"Guys...?"

"Yeah?" Responding like twins once again, I blink once before stepping back to give myself room to make a run for the door if necessary. "You're not normal. Not normal at all so please, listen to the normal person in the room and forget mayonnaise or ketchup." Making subtle gagging noises at the thought of ketchup pancakes, my mind trying to imagine red pancakes and ultimately censoring it out.

They both decide to put an end to their petty argument, harrumphing at each other like middle aged women fighting over who gets the last brand named hand bag.

"What about – "

"The answer is still no. You're trying to feed your family right? Then please, just follow my specific instructions." I state matter-of-factly, receiving a forced smile and salute in response from Zander.