Chili con corpses, p.3
Chili Con Corpses, page 3
“Pop!” he exclaimed as he entered the kitchen.
His father, Jackson Henry, had taken all of the frying pans, saucepans, and large pots out of the cupboard and strewn them across the floor. A carton of eggs and a jug of milk sat open on the counter while a package wrapped in white paper from Food Lion’s deli had been tossed onto the kitchen table. Puddles of milk, several broken eggs, a chunk of butter, and cheddar cheese shavings created a dairy minefield on the floor.
Their beautiful kitchen, which Jackson had completely renovated using the profits collected from the sale of his oil paintings, was in shambles. Surveying the mess, James couldn’t understand how a man with such a sour disposition could paint birds and their natural settings in such a moving and realistic manner. How could such serenity and grace spring forth from such a gruff and temperamental person?
“Where’s the goddamn good fryin’ pan?” Jackson demanded as he noted the presence of his only child. “How am I supposed to make breakfast with no pan? And you’re just sleepin’ away like you’re at some kind of fancy hotel with no work to go to and nothin’ to do but sit at the pool and sip fancy little drinks with fancy little umbrellas.”
Despite his fatigue, James tried not to smile. At times, his father’s childish fits could be rather amusing. “Are you hungry, Pop?”
Jackson’s furry eyebrows drew together to form a single fuzzy line. “I’ve been up for two hours workin’ in the shed.” James noticed that his father never mentioned the word “painting.” When he was locked outside in the shed, he was merely “working,” just as though he were still tying on his green apron and heading out for the family hardware store, which had been bought out by one of the mammoth home improvement chains several years ago.
“’Course I’m hungry.” Jackson sulked.
James examined the littered floor. “Let me tidy up and I’ll cook you something, but it’s got to be quick.” He eyed his father. “If you helped, I could get to the cooking part faster, you know.”
“Ha! You won’t be able to fry anything worth swallowin’ without that pan.” Jackson continued to sulk, making no move to assist in the cleanup.
The pan his father was referring to was one of the few remaining from the original set his parents had received as a wedding gift. Jackson firmly believed that all food tasted better when cooked in one of these old pans. James agreed, though he couldn’t understand why this was the case. The cooking surface of every pan looked like it had been scratched by a bear claw and the orange coating on the outside had flecked off in so many places that the pans looked like they were wrapped in tiger pelts. Still, anything precious to James’s beloved mother, who had died suddenly over a year ago from heart failure, was precious to both her husband and son.
“It’s okay, Pop. That pan’s in the dishwasher. See?” He dropped the dishwasher door and pointed at the clean dishes inside.
Jackson shook his head. “I just can’t get used to these newfangled contraptions.”
James glanced at the eggs and milk on the counter. “Would you like scrambled eggs with cheese?”
“And fried ham.” Jackson indicated the deli-wrapped package on the counter next to the eggs and settled himself at the kitchen table with the cartoon section of the newspaper.
As James began to cook the eggs, the sight of his father reading the newspaper reminded him of the advertisement Lindy had showed them last night. James had been so distracted by Lucy’s announcement that he hadn’t fully understood the gist of the ad. He finished with the eggs and divided them equally onto two plates. He then began to fry several slices of Virginia ham in the same pan.
The two men ate their breakfast in silence. Jackson read through the classifieds, occasionally snorting at what he considered absurd prices for “those little yappy dogs that can’t even fetch their own tails.” He then moved on to the Goings-On section while James scanned disinterestedly through the sports pages. He wanted to read the ad Lindy had clipped, but he knew better than to ask for any section of the paper until his father was finished with it.
“What are you up to today, Pop?”
“I’m gettin’ goin’ on my bathroom. Gonna rip up them old tiles and clean the gunk off the floorboards underneath. I got a pile of new tile comin’ on today’s UPS truck.”
James thought about the wallpaper in his parents’ bathroom: a silver, iridescent style fashionable in the seventies. It had always reminded James of tin foil. “Are you going to repaper it, too?”
Jackson frowned. “I’d sure like to, but I’ll likely just paint it. I can’t pick out that kind of decoratin’ stuff like your mama could.”
“I could enlist some female help,” James offered. “Lucy or Lindy.”
“Boy, I can’t keep track of all of your female friends. Which one’s your girl again?” his father asked, though he knew the answer. He then pushed back his chair, placed his dishes in the sink—still skittish of the new dishwasher—and hitched up his splattered painter’s pants. No matter what Jackson ate, he stayed thin as a plank. I must have inherited my mother’s metabolism, James thought and reached for the Goings-On section. He found the ad almost immediately.
Are You Bored By Food?
Sick of Cooking? Join Fix ’n Freeze and cook 10 meals big enough for a family of 4. Our first session features exciting cuisine from Spain and Mexico. We provide the food, you provide the friends! Hurry, classes are filling up. E-mail: fixnfreeze@shenmail.net to reserve your space. Classes begin Saturday, Nov. 3rd, in the former Cottage Gift Shoppe, Main Street, New Market. Grand Opening tuition: $19900.
James reread the ad several times and shook his head in confusion. “We cook ten meals in one day? No way am I doing that. I’d be exhausted!” Taking a large drink of coffee, he reorganized the paper and began to make his lunch. As he cut his turkey and mozzarella sandwich in half and packed an apple, a yogurt, and a Diet Dr. Pepper into his thermal lunch sack, he had a vision of a glass dish in the oven, stuffed with plump, oblong chicken enchiladas submerged under layers of golden, bubbling cheese.
“Shoot, I can cook all day if necessary,” he relented, eyeing his sandwich as it sat nestled in crinkled layers of plastic wrap. “I’d do just about anything if I didn’t have to see another slimy, tasteless piece of low-fat turkey breast for a few weeks.” Tossing his lunch into the Bronco, he backed rapidly out of the driveway and right into the garbage can, which was parked alongside the road.
James jumped out to discover a new dent on his beloved truck, just below the rear window. Cursing his own stupidity, he kicked the garbage can, stumping his toe so hard as he did so that he had to sit down for a few minutes until the pain passed.
When he finally reached the library, the Fitzgerald twins were waiting to be let inside.
“You should give one of us a key, Professor,” Scott suggested, running a hand through his tousled hair, which seemed to grow wilder and more unkempt each day.
“Everything okay, Professor?” Francis asked when he saw the stormy look on his boss’s face.
“Just a headache,” James grumbled as he unlocked the front door.
Francis rushed off to empty the book bin of returned books as Scott placed everyone’s lunches in the fridge.
“Hey!” Francis announced as he returned with a carton filled with books. “Look what someone left in the book bin!”
“More trash, I suppose,” Scott guessed, displaying a rare frown. “What is wrong with people? I already put up a sign that says, This is NOT a trash can! What is it going to take?”
“What is it this time?” James inquired, fully prepared to allow himself to become even more cross than before. “The remnants of another Happy Meal?”
“Nope. It’s a lottery ticket,” Francis answered, flourishing the small, colorful rectangle. “For the upcoming Cash 5 drawing.” His eyes glimmered behind his thick, old-fashioned, horn-rimmed spectacles. “I don’t gamble, but I know that if you get all five numbers right, you win a huge jackpot. A hundred thousand bucks or something.”
Scott whistled. “I would buy such a cool computer with that kind of dough.”
“I’d go to that astronaut camp NASA’s got,” Francis said dreamily.
“That camp’s for kids, bro,” Scott pointed out kindly.
“Hey, if twenty-five-year-olds can play high school kids on TV, then I can fake my way into Space Camp. We’re only twenty-three, after all.” He shoved his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. “What would you do with the money, Professor?” Francis asked his boss.
James took the ticket and placed it in the cardboard box labeled Lost But Not Yet Found behind the circulation desk and sighed. “I’d buy a suitcase full of books and go on a trip around the world. Alone!” He saw the perplexed looks on the brothers’ faces and softened his tone. “Better write down the titles of the books that were in that bin, Francis. See who checked them out. In the highly unlikely case that ticket’s worth something, we might be able to track down the patron.”
“Good idea, Professor,” Francis replied in his customary upbeat manner.
James headed into his office and booted up his computer. Along with the other supper club members, he had received an e-mail from Lindy reminding them all to reserve their space for the Saturday evening Fix ’n Freeze class. James sent his reservation by e-mail and immediately felt his bad mood start to dissipate. A few moments later, the owner of the new business wrote him back.
Dear Mr. Henry,
Welcome to Fix ’n Freeze! Please bring an apron with you on Saturday and prepare to have a great time. We will be cooking chicken enchiladas as we snack on black bean dip, fresh salsa, and homemade tortilla chips. (Miss Perez told me that your group of friends is using my class as a “night off” from dieting. I’m honored to be able to tempt you all with sumptuous, homemade food!) See you at 5:00 p.m.
Sincerely, Camilla Fields,
Head Chef, Fix ’n Freeze
James smiled as he read the e-mail. Chicken enchiladas! That was precisely the meal he had been fantasizing about earlier. Guess I’m lucky, he thought. I don’t need a lotto ticket. I’m going to taste Mexico and Spain for only $199. And I won’t have to cook for Pop for ten whole nights. That in itself might be worth a hundred thousand dollars.
“Come in from the cold, my friends,” Mrs. Fields said, opening wide the front door of the Fix ’n Freeze cooking classroom. “Since I’ve got even colder bottles of cerveza inside.” She patted James on the back. “Take off your jacket, handsome. There’s a coat tree over there in the corner.”
James smiled at the tiny woman wearing a yellow apron that said Some things are better rich: coffee, chocolate, and men. Camilla Fields looked to be in her mid sixties. An abundance of curly and rather colorless blonde hair poked from beneath the edges of a white baseball cap that said CHEF in bold letters. Her eyes were a silvery blue and her smile felt so warm that James felt immediately at home in her presence.
“The first rule is that we’re all here to enjoy food and each other! No debating over politics, religion, or anything serious,” Mrs. Fields announced cheerfully. “There are name tags on the side table near the coatrack. I’ll only need them this one time and then I’ll have you all stored in my mental files,” she said and tapped the side of her head. “You can call me Milla. After you’ve hung up your coats and put on a tag, gather around the butcher block and let’s have a toast to the commencement of our gastronomic voyage to Mexico and Spain!”
As James hung up Lucy’s coat, the front door opened again and in walked Murphy and the Willis twins. All three wore dark jeans and tight sweaters. The blondes looked stunning in black turtlenecks and Murphy wore a white V-neck with a choker made of rough-cut turquoise. James smiled at her and waved at the two sisters.
One of the twins then turned back to the door and cast a dazzling smile in the direction of a tall, attractive man in a leather coat and faded blue jeans. After he removed his coat and kissed the waiting sister lightly on the lips, he shook hands with Murphy and Kinsley, as though it were the first time he was meeting both of them.
“Ah, here are the other members of our class!” Camilla drew the foursome into the room. “Now, we can have our toast.”
James was too busy helping himself to a Corona with lime to notice Lucy glaring at the newcomers. He filled a warm tortilla chip with a load of black bean dip topped with sour cream and a sprinkling of fresh chives and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he took in his surroundings. Fix ’n Freeze had taken over a small historic building that had once housed a gift shop. Milla explained that she had simply emptied the downstairs and separated the space into an open cooking area and a section devoted to a pantry, fridge, and two chest freezers.
“I can’t tell you how surprised I was to find out what a walk-in fridge costs! Lord, you could’ve blown me over with a feather! Good thing my husband left me a big enough nest egg that I could take a risk and start my own business, ’cause I’m not quite ready to sit in a rocking chair and knit ugly socks.” She laughed and the members of her first class joined in. Her joie de vivre was contagious. She reminded James of Willy. He wondered if there was some secret to happiness in owning a small business related to food.
“I’ll wrap up before I bore you to death or you demand a refund by telling you that I live upstairs with the love of my life,” Milla continued. “He’s a corgi called Charles, after the Prince of Wales—that was back before I knew about him cheating on Diana, you see. So if you have any food emergencies—like the time Charles climbed up on a dining room chair and ate our Thanksgiving turkey—you know where to find me.”
“I like the colors in here,” Lindy said when Milla was done, gesturing at the mango-colored walls and the celery-green countertops. Piñatas in the form of sombreros, donkeys, and bulls dangled from ropes of yarn in equally vibrant hues. Lindy scooped up some fresh salsa from the wooden bowl on the butcher block and groaned happily. “Fresh cilantro?” she asked when her mouth was empty.
“Very good, my dear. A star pupil already!” Milla winked.
Lindy beamed as Gillian introduced herself to Parker, Kinsley, and the good-looking young man who identified himself as Colin Crabtree, a large-animal vet and Parker’s boyfriend. Gillian, Parker, and Colin immediately began to talk about animals. Their subjects ranged from grooming practices to which dog breeds were the worst clients, while Colin told humorous tales about having to sedate enormous bulls and about how he first learned to shear sheep. In the meantime, Bennett flirted shyly with Kinsley while James concentrated on the black bean dip. He offered Lucy the bowl of tortilla chips but she shook her head no.
“Has everyone lined their bellies with something?” Milla asked. “Good! Let’s don our aprons and prepare to make some mouth-watering enchiladas. Go on and pick a cooking station, and we’ll get down to business.”
Camilla described the contents of the small metal bins in front of each cooking station. “These are your ingredients for this dish. I’ll lead you step by step through the assembly process. Then we’ll pop our entrées in the oven and socialize for a bit.”
As James ripped pieces of chicken from the breast set before him, he felt completely content. His friends chattered amiably and Milla circulated the room, patting backs and complimenting chopping or sautéing techniques until every person felt like a budding Emeril Lagasse.
“You okay?” James asked Lucy, who had been unusually quiet.
“Sure,” she replied hastily. “I’m just thinking about how I’m not going to be able to eat a bite of this dish. It’s too fattening, and I’m on a pretty strict routine right now.”
James slowed in the middle of stirring the onion and garlic sautéing in the pan on the stovetop he shared with Murphy, who was at the counter space across from him. They each had two burners and seemed to be in perfect sync as they added green chilies to their pans, their movements mirroring one another. Tantalizing aromas from the onions and garlic filled the air. Kinsley’s eyes watered and she dabbed at them with a napkin while Parker teased her for being “such a sensitive girl.”
“What are you going to do with these enchiladas then?” James asked Lucy.
She shrugged. “Bring them to work. Those boys’ll eat anything that’s not nailed down.” Lucy concentrated on the pan in front of her and added, “But I’m not sure if this class is the best idea for me right now.”
At first, James didn’t reply, as he didn’t know what to say. Finally, he said, rather lamely, “But we’re only indulging once a week. It can’t be that bad for us.” Listening to himself, James felt as though his answer was a bit argumentative, so he hastily added, “Besides, we’d all miss you, Lucy.” Then he turned his attention back to his enchiladas.
The class flew by. Before he knew it, their dishes were cooking away in the wall ovens while people cleaned their spaces and talked. Once their individual cooking areas were tidied, Milla gathered them all by the butcher’s block and they gave themselves a round of applause while she passed around a plate of crescent-shaped Mexican wedding cookies.
“I know these are delicious, my friends.” Milla bit into a cookie. “Don’t worry, we’ll make them in a future class. I’m a big believer in finishing a meal with dessert.”
After the oven timers went off and the aluminum pans had cooled enough to be loaded into cardboard boxes, the group untied their aprons and thanked Milla heartily. It was apparent that everyone had enjoyed their first Fix ’n Freeze experience.
As James handed Lindy her leather jacket, he noticed a dark look on her face.
“What’s up, Lindy? Didn’t you have fun?” he asked as they stepped outside.
Lindy shrugged her coat on. “Oh, I loved the class, James. I just don’t know if I can come again.”
James was shocked. “Not you, too! Lucy doesn’t think she can do this because of her fitness training, but why you? Is it the food?”
