Hushed

Chapter Four

Home. Well, ish. The place I live is a better description. Nothing cheery or homey about it. Well, I guess my bed is homey. Soft. Hmm I wanna sleep....

Stop it. You have work to do before she gets home.

I walk up the driveway. Up the steps. One two three. Hop hop hop. Climb climb climb. Why are there so many steps? So your thighs will forever be perfectly in shape. Also, because Mum has no idea what limits are.

Finally at the top. Keys, and then twist the knob. Push. Sigh. Inside.

The temperature is perfect like always. I cross her entryway to her kitchen. Yup. Chore list is on the fridge.

Dishes
Start dinner
Check the mail. And don't you DARE open anything.
Bring parcels inside.
Clean the Hall. I'm having a party tonight. We'll make sure you look presentable enough.

I check the clock. Let's see. It's four thirty-two, so mum'll be home in... Approximately...

TWENTY-EIGHT MINUTES. To do all of that? Okay okay okay okay um. First... Mail. Ugh that means going down and up the steps again. Lord, kill me now.

Out the door. Down down down down down the steps. Don't fall. Please don't let me fall. Don't fall. Okay great-got the mail.

Up up up up up the steps. Ugh my calves.

At the top. Breathe. Wheeze. Breathe.

Alright now. Parcels-check. Inside. Check the clock. It's four thirty-six. Twenty-four minutes.

What has she planned for dinner? Nothing. I have to figure something out. She's having a party. So... finger foods?

I run to the fridge. The pantry. The cabinets. Crackers. Eggs. Bacon. Packages of sweets. An army of food now sits atop the vast countertop.

I quickly match up things. Chili and cream cheese. Asparagus, Bacon, and honey? Hmm. Cheese. Um. I can cut up cheese cubes. Maybe put them with crackers? 

I quickly get out some pots and pans. I throw the chili and a block of cream cheese in one pan and turn the heat on. Next, I get out a skillet and start wrapping asparagus with bacon that I've brushed down with honey and oil. I put small dollops of cream cheese in the bundles.

Clock. Seventeen minutes.

I toss the bundles into hot oil in the skillet. Ah! It's popped me. No time. No time.

Slice cheese into not-so-even cubes. She'll fuss, but it's her fault. Small, slabs of various types of meat go on crackers. Then the cubes and cute little toothpicks to hold it together.

Flip the bacon thingies. Throw small sausages, brown sugar, and honey barbecue sauce in a small pot. Stir. Heat. Okay. 

What else? What else? Hmm. Avocados. I mash them into a bowl and add various seasonings. Squeeze in lime juice. Add chopped cilantro. Salt and pepper.

Clock. Twelve minutes.

I turn off heat on all pans. Remove bacon wraps. I sprinkle them with a teensy bit of brown sugar and brush them with soy sauce. Okay. That's food-ish.

What else? Dishes. I scrub through them, splashing water and bubbles everywhere.

Time's up. She'll be here any minute. Hurry up. Hurry up.

I mop the kitchen and rush to the dining hall. It's not too messy I suppose. Just a little dirty. I start with a dry mop, running up and down. Then a real mop. Now the floor's damp. Oookay.

Back to the kitchen. I arrange the bacon wraps and cheese crackers nicely on separate platters and move the dips and sausages to decorative bowls.

More food, I suppose. I cut two loaves of bread into triangles. I match up meats with cheeses. Turkey and provolone. Ham and Swiss. Roast beef and cheddar. Cut in half. Arrange. Poof. Sandwiches. Okay.

Back to the Hall. I arrange the chairs around the large, long dining table. Okay. All that's left is to decorate. Let's see. What do I have to decorate with? I turn around.....

Oh crap.

Mum's standing in the doorway.