Page 23 of Recipe for a Curse

Chapter 10

Ifound him slippers and showed him to the kitchen, which was sparkling clean because Ana knew I loved everything spotless before I began cooking. Rio seemed a bit dumbfounded at the size of the kitchen, which was easily at least twice the size of my apartment.

“I’ve never been in a kitchen this large. You do all the work in here yourself? You must be running miles a day just to get from one end to the other.”

That was a bit of an exaggeration, though when we had guests sometimes it was a bit maddening. “For parties I have help. Most of the time it’s me and Ana. She’ll be off helping the cleaning staff, but will probably be back for dinner prep.” I put all the dishes away and began pulling out supplies for lunch. Since Rio liked my bacon so much, I grabbed a bit more of that to make. Lunch would be fried chicken and stuffed potatoes. Not fast at all, but filling. Dinner for the manor would be easy enough to shift to a salad spread with the leftover chicken. My planning on nonbusiness days was a bit looser. Though I had a set schedule of proteins, which was written out on a chalk board on the far wall for everyone to see. Red meat twice a week, fish twice a week, and the rest filled in with random other things, chicken, turkey, pork, and the occasional processed meat like hot dogs. Though that was more of a summer thing.

I texted Zach the change and got a thumbs-up affirmative. Then sent him a question about the snow. He didn’t respond to that. From the blue sky and bright light that I could see from the window, the snow was done, but I suspected the cold would be intense. I could get by without leaving the house today, but would have to get out tomorrow if I wanted fresh bread sent to the food bank.

“What do you want me to do?” Rio asked.

“Ever cut up whole chickens before? Fresh but already dead, I mean. It’s not like we have to catch them or anything.”

“I have not, but if you show me what to do, I will do my best.”

Estimating by how much he’d eaten last night and this morning, I decided to triple the amount of chicken I needed. “To the freezer we go. You can help me juggle chickens.”

He smiled and shook his head a little, but followed.

Rio was actually a really good assistant. He listened attentively. Was a bit shocked about defrosting chickens and how I had a microwave that was fancy enough to estimate the weight and defrost them in minutes. He took to being a sous-chef easily, cutting up the chicken, helping me dredge it in eggs, cream, and a spiced flour mixture. He was amused by the elaborate splatter shield and apron combo I had for frying, and worked on kneading bread while I cooked the chicken.

We baked potatoes smothered in olive oil and course sea salt, then cut them open to spoon out their filling into a bowl to mix with broccoli, bacon, a homemade ranch dressing, and pickles, then put them back in the oven. “The pickles seem an odd addition. And weren’t homemade,” Rio remarked. “Everything else you make?”

“I don’t use pickles a lot. Tried to can them once, but they ended up too salty. I get most of the preserves from people in town during the summer. Only bought two jars of pickles from them this year, so they are already gone. I will plan better next year.” The chicken was looking amazing and I was finally getting hungry. The smell of the twice baked potatoes was a dream of comfort food. “I like to know what’s in everything. If I know what’s in it, I can remake it.”

“That sounds a bit magical,” Rio admitted.

“Not as magical as you making perfect loaves of bread like you’ve done it a thousand times. It took weeks for me to perfect the roll.” I pointed to the rack of bread ready to go in the large stand proofer Zach had installed for me. “We used to tease each other in culinary school that those who mastered it were meant for big things, the rest were meant for McDonalds. People didn’t stay in school if they couldn’t get through the basics.”

“I think my years as a medic helps. Lots of precision in that,” Rio said. “I’m out of practice, but it’s nice to be useful.” He looked around the space, “And you have so much room without other people around.” He flushed and looked at me. “I mean like crowds, not you.”

“No worries. I understood. Let me get out some serving stuff so we can get everything out for lunch.”

Rio tensed.

“You don’t have to eat with the group if you want. You can eat in the kitchen.” I pointed to the small corner booth that Zach had put in at my request just a month earlier. Sometimes even I needed a break from all the bustle of things.

“Thank you. Let me help with your trays at least.”

Lunch setup was easy. Two giant warming trays, a salad with a selection of dressings, and the moon cakes, all arranged on a small table in the large ballroom area. Normally, if there were guests, the tables would be spread across the distance of the room to keep everyone separate and the windows would be open to let in the breeze. Though with the current piles of snow sloped against the back of the house, that would have been a chilly breeze. I could see the path out the back and the main patio appeared to be cleared. Zach likely had carved a path to his cabin as well.

Rio loaded the giant warming platters onto the table like they weighed nothing, and I put out a pot of hot water for Sean’s tea, as well as filling the coffee maker. Rio’s gasp made me turn, almost dropping a stack of cups thinking he’d hurt himself. But it was Sean standing a few feet away that seemed to have startled him. The man did walk very softly.

“Sorry,” Rio said, bowing his head a little and taking a step back.

Sean waved his hands and gave a slight smile. “I apologize for startling you. Please sit and have something to eat.”

“Montana said I could eat in the kitchen,” Rio said quietly.

I jumped in to try to ease a bit of the tension. “We’ll eat in the kitchen today,” I told Sean. “Rio is adjusting to being around the bustle of the cooking life, and he needs a bit of a break. He’s been really helpful with lunch prep.” Not that I thought Sean would do or say anything bad, although I couldn’t help but worry that Rio would take something the wrong way.

Sean nodded. “Be sure you eat,” he told Rio. “That is all that’s important.” His gaze seemed to glide over Rio, assessing.

“I’ve been feeding him,” I promised. “I’ve only had a day to feed him up.” I felt defensive of the fact that Rio still looked thin. But that wasn’t something fixed in a single day.

The back door opened, letting in a giant fist of icy air. Zach stepped inside, shaking off a ton of snow and the cold. He shut the door and began stripping layers.

“That smells amazing,” he said. “Will you be eating with us, Rio?”