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“You’ll see. Coffee?”
“I’d love some.” I thanked her after she set a cup on the bar, in front of me. I watched as she took a bowl and two different-sized pitchers, also covered, out of the fridge. She removed the lid from one and set it by the cooktop. When the oven beeped, she slid the baking sheet inside, lit a fire under the griddle, then poured pancake batter onto it from the largest pitcher.
While those cooked, she took the lid off the smaller of the two pitchers and stuck it in the microwave, then took the cover off the final bowl.
“Damn, woman, that smells amazing,” I said when she removed the tray from the oven and a heavenly scent seduced my senses.
“Maple bacon. Not everyone likes it.” She flipped the pancakes, then took the pitcher from the microwave and set it on the bar along with a bowl of fruit.
“There are forks, knives, and spoons in that drawer,” she said, pointing with the spatula she used to transfer pancakes to two plates, which she also set on the bar.
I got out the utensils and set them between us. Following her lead, I put a spoonful of fruit on top of the pancakes, then poured warm syrup over it, groaning when I took a bite. “Damn, Calla, you never cooked when we were at the camp. This is amazing.”
“The camp didn’t have this kitchen. I got kind of spoiled.”
Admittedly, although it was smaller, it was as nice as the one my parents had in their multi-million-dollar mansion.
“Forgot the bacon.” She got off the stool, used tongs to put some on a plate, then set it between us.
We ate in silence, me because my mouth was continually full, her because she typically didn’t feel the need to make small talk.
“Breakfast is fantastic. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome to have more.”
“Don’t twist my arm.” Before she could get up, I did. “I’ll get it.”
I relit the griddle and let it heat up before pouring more batter from the pitcher. “Did you whip all this up while I was at the laundromat and bathing in the back of my car?”
She’d just taken a drink of coffee and covered her mouth when she laughed. “I just pictured you doing all that dressed like Magilla Gorilla.”
“Tell me you looked it up online.”
She giggled and nodded.
“See? Once you get that mental picture, it’s impossible to forget it.” I pointed to the griddle. “More?”
She held out her plate. “Two, please.”
I put the rest on my plate after checking to make sure there was more batter, then sat beside her. “You didn’t answer. Did you make all this while I was gone?”
She nodded. “I knew I wouldn’t want to go out. So, what did you want to run by me?”
“A couple of things,” I said, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “I think it’s safe to say we have a similar dislike of Christmas.”
Calla nodded again.
“And you mentioned the party the Invincibles are hosting. Have you given it any more thought? Going, I mean.”
“I’m leaning that way. You aren’t saying you want to go with me, are you?”
“Actually, I am.”
She looked as though she was thinking about it. “Was that all?”
“Not by a long shot.”
She leaned against the stool and folded her arms. “What else?”
