Lizz Lund - Mina Kitchen 02 - Christmas Bizarre (11 page)

“He works part time at Save-A-Lots, nights mostly.
So it makes good sense. He probably stopped by on his way home this morning.”

Chef nodded.
“Well, the rest of my day is actually free. How about you?”

“I’ve got to pick up my Santa Sparkle from Lickety Split.
If the power comes back on, I might get my Santa’s Sidekick shift back. And I’m kinda hoping I hear from James.”

“Oh.”

“He hasn’t given me a lot of work lately. But he’s been very busy with his Stressed Shoppers station at the mall. So I’m hoping he’s picked up some new clients.”

“Oh,
that
James.”

I looked at him.
“What other James would I mean?”

“Sorry.
Must have confused him with someone else.” Chef smiled back brightly.

I rubbed my arms to keep from shivering.
“Well, I’d better get going. It’s a little brisk out here.”

“Brisk? Oh, yes.”

“See you.”

“Mina?”

“Yes?”

“If there’s anything I can help you with, just let me know, okay
? I’ve got most of the day open.”

“You’ve got
nothing
to do?” I was incredulous. I always have something to do. It doesn’t mean that I actually do anything. It’s just that I’ve got miles of things on lists to which I pay little attention.  They keep the paint swatches company.

“Well, yes and no.
I might go through a box of recipe books I should have unpacked long ago. But that’s about it until the dinner party later.”

I considered it.
Chef’s recipe books had to be real recipe books. Professional. It was very tempting. Then I remembered Trixie and her love-lorn laundry. A promise is a promise.

“I told Trixie she could do laundry at my house.
From the sound of it, it could last all day.” Or all month, I thought.

“All day?”

“It seems she hasn’t done any since July.”

He shook his head.
“You’re a real trooper. I hope Santa brings you everything you want for Christmas. Any wishes?”

“Do you think he does vans?”

“Doubtful.”

We smiled
hesitantly at each other. “Thanks anyway. Although I’d rather look at recipe books than dirty duds any day.”

“Call me if you need an excuse.”

“Thanks. But this is sympathy laundry.”

“Who died?”

“Her boyfriend.”

“What?”

“For the moment, anyway. It’s complicated.”

“That’s a shame.
You know, not all relationships have to be complicated.” He looked down at me, his blue eyes sparkling in the bright winter light. My feet tingled and I stomped them.

“Geez, you are cold!
You better get going.” He held open the door for me, and I hopped in. Well, that was that.

I
drove away, wondering if I was reading too much into a nice guy’s polite conversation. I pushed away the double entendre thoughts beginning to form – it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to fantasize about a part-time boss. It would get in the way of my fantasizing about my other part-time boss. 

My thoughts and the steering wheel turned
in the direction of ransoming my vest from the cleaners.

My luck abruptly changed for the better, when I slid – literally – into a parking space right in front of Lickety Split
. I hopped out, only to find the door locked. A sign read, “7:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m.” I certainly was in the ballpark. I banged on the door. I waited. Then I banged some more. How the heck was I going to get my vest?

Some scuttling sounds came from inside, and the door opened a crack.

“Mina?”

“Fen?”

“Quick – come in!” She opened the door to let me in.
She glanced furtively around outside, then shut and locked the door.

“Why did you lock the door? Are you open for business or not?”

“I have no idea.”

“But your sign says
‘Open’?”

“Sign?”

I pointed. Fen looked to the door, then, spun the sign around with Ninja-like precision. She leaned against the counter, shaking her head. “I got so overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do. And I still haven’t heard from Tina.”

“What did the police say?”

“They’re looking into it. They want to access her place, to look around.”

“Well, that makes sense.”

She nodded. “I know. They’ll probably want to question all of Tina’s friends, so they might contact you, too.”

Thoughts of being another front for Vito’s new stash in my basement paraded through my
mind. This could become a little more interesting than anyone wanted.

“I’m sure she’ll turn up soon.”

“I hope so. I’m not good at this business on my own.”

Truer words were never spoken. “Maybe she’s visiting a friend?”

“Probably. But she would never leave the business without instructions for me. She’s so organized - even her lists have lists. She could have at least called.”

“I probably just over-reacted yesterday.
Hey, maybe she ran off with a boyfriend. Ha, ha.”

Fen
nodded. “The police said they’d be questioning all of them.”

“What?”

She giggled, then whispered, “She’s a cougar.”

I
blinked. After Mrs. Phang’s initial rabid treatment of me, as well as most everyone else on the planet, it was absurd to think of her interacting with anyone sans snarling and bearing of teeth. Even though she’d started paling around with Auntie, she didn’t really strike me as the flirty type, much less a cougar. Yikes. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, while all this is going on…but, errm… you wouldn’t happen to have my vest ready, would you?”

“You have ticket?”

I produced the crumpled ticket from my wallet, and waited several lifetimes while Fen fumbled among the hanging conveyor racks behind the counter.

She finally emerged.
“Here it is!”

Well, it looked like a vest.
And she hadn’t shrunk it. Unfortunately, instead of being a solid red, it now sported a bright orange patch on the right pocket.

“What happened?”

Fen sighed. “Look, it’s clean, right? You have any idea how hard it is to get food and gunk out of felt?”

She had a point.
Of sorts. I re-examined the vest and suddenly fell into abject panic. “What did you do with all of my Sparkle?!”

“Sparkle?”

“The buttons! The store discount buttons! They won’t let me work my shift without them!”

She tsked.
“I took them off, of course. Couldn’t clean your vest with all that bling on it, right? Here.” Fen handed me a Ziplok bag containing several hundred campaign-like buttons.

“Oh, sorry.
Thanks.”

“That’ll be $10.50.”

I grimaced and dug for my wallet. “You know, I’m glad you were able to get this done before… you weren’t able to get this done. But there is a very large orange spot on the front pocket now, where there wasn’t one before.”

Fen
threw her hands up in the air. “What is this, some kind of uniform?”

I must truly need a wardrobe consultant.
Did she really think I dressed this way? “Well, actually, yes.” I filled her in about being Santa’s Sidekick.

Fen
shook her head. “I had no idea. I guess they’ll make you return it, after the holidays? Do you think they’ll fine you for the spot?”

“Actually, they made me buy the vest outright, before I began the job.”

“What? That’s terrible.”

“I’ll say.”

“Yeah. That’s one ugly vest.”

I nodded.

“Here take it. No charge.”

“Are you sure?”

She shrugged. “I really wasn’t sure what to charge you, anyway. I can’t make sense out of Tina’s payment matrix. Polyester shirt or silk shirt. Wool trousers or chinos. Sweater coat or pullover – not a goddam thing about felt.”

“That’s a problem.”

“No kidding!”

Another confused customer banged at the door.
Fen winced.

“Don’t you think you should, umm… let him in?”

She sighed. “I suppose so. But I’m going to get burnt. I didn’t finish all of it. It’s not all done.”

“Maybe you could offer him some kind of discount?”

She brightened. “A delay discount! I never thought of that! I love discounts!”

I hoped
Tina returned soon, before Fen gave the shop away.

I skidded home and into the garage in record time,
thanks to Straight No Chaser’s, “Christmas Medley.” I grabbed the dry cleaning bag with my vest, then thought better of it. It would be safer to don my gay apparel at the mall - far, far away from Vinnie. Hopefully, that would be in the very near future, after the juice was back on.

As
I entered, the smoke alarm blared. Vito and Miriam’s voices bellowed over the din.

“You never listen!”

“I know what I’m doing!”

“So does the fire department!”

Vito shouted a Polish retort and raced into the front hallway, waving one of my chip baskets and a dish towel at the screaming smoke alarm.

“
Hiya, Mina!
”

“
Hey, Vito.
” I squeezed past him into the kitchen, turned on the exhaust fan and opened the back door. There on the stove top, I saw what remained of my very best cast iron skillet and the remnants of some mummified sausages.

“He has good intentions, you know?” Miriam waved her hands at the smoke.

I nodded resignedly, remembering something about the path to Hell being paved with them, and reached for a silicon oven mitt. I grabbed the handle of the blistering pan and set it outside on the deck. It sizzled and tattooed a circular burn mark. I swore silently and tossed the pan out into a snow bank. It cracked in half. I swore not-so-silently and returned inside.

The smoke alarm stopped.

“So?” I looked squarely at Vito and Miriam.

Vito threw the dish towel over his shoulder.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, Toots.”

“He was just trying to make you some
brunch. On account of new car shopping, and all,” Miriam chirped from behind.

“New car shopping?”

Vito shrugged. “I need new wheels. They totaled the Towncar.”

“He thought we could have a nice
brunch together, before we all head out.”

“We?”

“Well, sure. I mean, if you don’t mind?” Vito blushed.

“Of course she doesn’t mind!
Everyone likes to go car shopping! Besides, we need to borrow Mina’s van, anyway. We got a grill to pick up.”

“Grill?”

Vito blushed some more. “Miriam got me a Christmas present.”

“A four burner grill! With extra side burners!
They put it together free! With a fancy cover!”

The phone rang
, it was K. “I’m bored.”

“Trade you.”

“What now?”

“It looks like I’m going car shopping.
Then I pick up a grill.”

“Car shopping! What fun! Can I come?”

Miriam piped up from behind. “See? Everyone likes to car shop!”

I sighed.
“Sure.”

“When are you leaving?”

I turned to Miriam, our newly appointed Director of Activities.

“How’s about now?
We can grab a bite out! My treat!”

Vito shrugged.
K. agreed and we hung up.

Once K. arrived, w
e all squeezed into my van. I turned on the radio but my usual hymn factory was on a news break. I turned they key. The ignition coughed and I pumped my fist against the dashboard a few hundred times.

K. grimaced.
“Great, at this rate we won’t get anywhere until the Spring thaw!”

“Why?” Miriam asked.

Vito explained.

Miriam perked up immediately.
“This is a synch! Vito, you and K. start singing ‘Deck the Halls’ and Mina and me will jump in later – like a circle!”

I think she meant a round, but who was I to quibble with a dysfunctional ignition?
While it was a circuitous route to starting up the van, it beat the heck out of waiting until news got past the top of the hour.

After some group embarrassment, our ride complied and off we went, toward Manheim Pike
and Lancaster’s car dealership mainline. Soon, we turned left from Dillersville Road and were on our way.

“So, Vito, what kind of car are you looking for?” K. asked.