A Truelove of Turtle Doves

Chpt 9 - Organisation

The kitchen had changed a bit since I'd last visited. The brick furnace oven had been expanded so that more food - pies, meats, bread, pastries - could fit inside it, the dark kitchen counter tops had all been replaced with lighter wood, and more windows had been added, allowing the late sunlight to stream through the large room. I was relieved to see that my window seat was still in tack. Well, it wasn't really a window seat - it was a counter where pies were placed in order to cool them down by opening the window. A large part of me was also glad to see that the main island counter, Penny's work space, was largely unchanged. She had her back to me as she worked, but the surface layout was exactly what I remembered - flour everywhere, stacks of dough ready to roll or put in the oven, and off to the side, a wooden stand covered with several loaves of bread and a dozen or so mini pies, almost ready to go.

Dinner was coming up.

Standing in the doorway, I was about to open my mouth and say hi, when Penny, with her back still to me, grunted and said, "If you need me to back you up 'cause you've gone off and done somethin' bloody stupid again, the answer's no."

I couldn't help but grin. "Nice to see you again too, Penny."

Making my way to my window seat, I stole one of the mini pies sitting on the stand at the end of her work counter, and felt a rush of air from where she attempted to slap it out of my hand.

"Hey!" she barked, "That's for dinner, you bloody scoundrel!"

I laughed and took a bite out of it anyway, sitting down as she continued to mutter about "Stupid people stealing her stupid pies 'cause they just can't wait for stupid dinner. Stupid."

Comfortable silence settled over us as I finished my snack - Which I had now determined was (Favourite/Flavour) Pie - and Penny worked, the sounds of dough being kneaded and the quiet roar of the fire the only noises filling the air.

I was going to have to ask. I said I would take care of the food for the picnic, and now I had to. I just have to figure out how to go about it...

"Alright, what is it?" she huffed.

I suppose that would work.

"Can I ask for a favour?"

"Depends."

"What does that mean?"

Huffing, she put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at me. "When one of the Unholy Graces wants somethin', it's generally somethin' that'll get 'em into trouble with their parents."

A small grin made its way onto my face. "Come on, I'm not that bad."

"You bloody are," she retorted, resuming with her work.

I sighed slightly. "I'm... going on a picnic with a friend and I was wondering if you would-"

"Make the food for you?"

"...Please?"

There was a pause.

"No."

"Aw, come on! Really?!"

"Why can't you do it your bloody self? You know 'ow a kitchen works, you've spent enough of your bloody time in 'ere!"

I groaned. I knew this was going to be difficult; Penny was always one to bring up valid points that I would try and find loopholes for, the loophole this time being that I actually wasn't all that great at cooking. I'd made cookies with her before when I was younger, and bread and pies and tarts, but I had always required a lot of supervision. And I mean a lot.

"You know that I have a natural talent of messing even the simplest instruction up!"

"So?"

I folded my arms and glared at her. "Penny, you once asked me to get the apricot jam out of the pantry for the jam tarts and I brought out the ginger preserve. I put ginger preserve in a god damn jam tart!"