Bad Choices (Hypernaturals 8)

Angel Explains

Nakoma and I flipped through my hand-written recipe book, and she read the ingredients with interest. Jessica looked amused but not insulted that Nakoma wanted to cook with me. She switched to drink duty and given the later hour, made fresh decaffeinated peach tea for everyone. Unsweetened, of course. All the girls, from Laura to Nakoma like the peach tea we make. Fruity, intense. Will not keep them up at night. Will not give them early onset Diabetes. Some people in the South can drink tea without 5 pounds of sugar per gallon of liquid.

Nakoma pointed at the Chicken Fajita recipe when we came to it. "Oh! Can we do this?"

"I did not marinate any chicken, but we can compensate, Sure. Do you want that in soft tacos? Or maybe Nacho style? Guacamole and sour cream and stuff?"

Nakoma looked at the ceiling, as if I gave her a math problem.

Angel raised her hand and said, "I vote Nacho's."

"Yeah. Sure. That sounds good. How will you compensate for not marinating??" Nakoma asked

"I'll show you a few ways to cheat. If we had a little more time, one way is to use papaya enzymes to soften the chicken. How we cut it matters: we can go across the grain. Making the slices thinner helps. Another way is to use a special hammer to flatten the chicken and break it's fibers up, so it's more tender and absorbs the spices faster. In that drawer there: it looks all spiky."

Nakoma pulled the implement out of the drawer and looked it over with interest. "I wondered what these kind of hammers are for. I saw them at that kitchen store over in Fredericksburg."

Jessica indicated the mixer, then made a sweeping gesture at the rest of the counter appliances. "Der Kuchen Laden? Half the stuff in this kitchen is from there."

Nakoma grinned "That place is so cool."

Nakoma and I soon had chicken pounded, cut, and griddling in a swath of spices, guacamole being made, refried beans being warmed as we pretty much always have those on hand, chips being zapped to get them warm and fresher tasting. We assembled a couple of massive platters for the center of the table, and in our usual family style. Serve yourself. 

Given the tummy rumbles, I am not surprised to see how hungry Nakoma turned out to be, but Angel really put the food away as well. I interpreted that as Angel not eating due to the stress, and now being here allowed her to lower that stress level and have her hunger able to return.

Angel is slender. Has been as long as I have known her and Morgan says she has always looked like this. When Morgan met her at the strip club in Galveston, she served tables in the nude, wearing a waist chain, some footwear, and a smile. It is a little difficult to reconcile that, and the Angel I have always known. Mindreader. Mom. Perfect assistant in all things. A woman who held me, skin on skin, after the HPA assaulted me and I needed loving human touch to heal.

Angel seemed to know what I am thinking. We DID just talk about sex, love, and marriage outside. She might not know exactly what I am thinking, only the general topic: her naked. She smiled, slightly shyly. Damn it. I need to remember to not think of my friends, including her, naked when she is around to 'read my mind'.

After the food was gone with no leftovers, Nakoma forgot all about the 'why' of how she and her mom came to be here and took the girls to the master bedroom to play with them.

We assembled the rest of the family with more adult beverages in the living room to hear what the problem is. Morgan, Jessica, and I selected single malt Scotch. Macallan Rare Cask. It is lovely. Helen went with her usual, a red wine from our Winery in France. Helen technically gave it to me along with my Adrian Claremont ID, but I know it is ours. For one thing, in France, she is Mrs. Claremont.