Page 36 of Rousing Renee

I put the last bite in my mouth and shook off the defeat of the last four tries. The last one had been the only edible one.

I jumped up and down in place like I was about to enter the ring with Mike Tyson. It was either lose my ear or knock his ass out. Ezra told me the next sandwich was his. So if I completely messed this up, he was eating a crap sandwich. I couldn’t have that.

“What are you doing?” Ezra chuckled.

“My beat Mike Tyson psych up.”

“Okay… if that’s going to help you, I’m all for it.”

I rearranged the station I’d created. Bread, butter, mayo, American, Gruyere, and Cheddar. I wiped the pretend sweat from my brow, washed my hands, and turned on the frying pan. High heat. When I felt the heat on my fingertips coming from the pan, I turned it down to medium low. Then I placed the mayo side of the bread in the pan first.

“So, the butter melts down into the sandwich,” I said to myself.

When the sizzling stopped and the edges browned, I flipped it to the butter side. It was still a little light, but that was okay. Undercooked means I could flip it back over. The sandwich let off a little smoke, and I lifted it from the pan to check it.

“A little more, Mike.”

Ezra chuckled, but when I looked over my shoulder at him, he pretended to cough. Then cleared his throat.

“I think I swallowed too much air,” he joked.

“Yeah, okay.” I rolled my eyes.

“Two.”

“You want two sandwiches?” I asked, nervous as hell. I didn’t know if I could do this twice.

I checked the sandwich, and the color was perfect. I flipped it to the original side and gave it a little more love.

“Not bad, Mike, not bad.”

I stared at the edges carefully. I was so close to getting this right that I’d probably throw it out the window if it burned.

I chanced a peek, and it was almost there.

“Easy with the jabs. You’ll get tired,” I coached the sandwich. “Watch your footwork.”

I lifted the sandwich again and gasped.

“It’s perfect!” I picked it up and slid it onto the plate. There was one more step.

I got the knife thing that curved off the counter. It rocked like a rocking chair. I had to rock it just right to not double cut it. If it didn’t go through the crispy part, I’d have to do it again. I used the palm of my hand to add pressure while my right hand guided the cut. When I pulled it away, my eyes rounded, and my smile widened.

“TKO!” I put the plate in front of Ezra and waited for his critique.

He tilted his head to examine the sandwich. “Looks right.”

He picked up one half, and it came up without him having to tear it. He took a bite and his eyes closed.

“Renee, one point!” he shouted.

“Eek!” I jumped up and down, doing my heavy-weight dance before shimmying from right to left. “I did it!”

Then the fire alarm went off.

“Shit! I forgot to turn the stove off,” I cursed, using the towel to fan the detector after I turned off the stove.

Ezra burst out laughing, shaking his head. “You were so excited you forgot?”

---