Page 150 of Storm over the Caribbean
“Why are you laughing?”
“Ehem…no reason. No reason at all.”
***
“All right…a bit of this, and a bit of that…”
Humming to myself, I dropped mashed banana into the pot—followed by a mashed banana peel. It was an edible fruit, right? It was followed by some garlic, herbs of all shapes and colours, and…what was that?
Hm, I guess I’d find out when Mr Ambrose did the tasting for me. My oh my! I’d never known cooking could be this fun! I should have tried it earlier!
Of course, the amount of fun might be related to the lack of recipes or actual work involved. Freestyle cooking for the win!
“Give it to me!” Polly chose that moment to announce. “Croak! Give it to me!”
“Oh, really?” Cocking an eyebrow, I pointed at the boiling contents of the pot that, for containing only relatively mundane ingredients, manages to have a strong resemblance to a witch’s brew. “Are you sure you want some?”
The parrot stared at the pot for a long moment—then turned its beak away. “Polly wants a cookie! Polly wants a cookie!”
“Thought so.”
With a grin, I turned back to work / wifely duty / tastebud-torture. After fifteen more minutes or so of creative culinary heresy, I finally could not find anything else to put into the pot, or at least not anything that wouldn’t risk improving the content’s taste. Thus, I reluctantly put my pot of pestilence aside and reluctantly turned to the second, much larger, pot. The one reserved for the food meant for the crew.
With a sigh, I felt my shoulders slump.
Seems like it was time to do some actual cooking.
Five minutes later…
Ugh! How could I ever have thought that a diabolical torture like cooking could ever be fun? This is excruciating.
Most especially in my current outfit. God, if I’d known that wearing trousers and men's shirts would be so uncomfortable while pregnant, I would never have agreed to follow my dearhusband’s inane plane! Never mind that said inane plan had actually worked so far. That was completely irrelevant compared to how this bloody pair of trousers chafed against my stomach!
“Goddamn cross-dressing! Why did I ever think this was a good idea?”
Because, a few years ago, you thought pigs would fly before you would get pregnant?
Shut up, inner voice! Stop sounding so darn reasonable!
“I should never have agreed to join this infernal pirate crew! A pregnant girl dressing in men’s clothes slaving away as the ship’s cook on a pirate ship? Why did I ever think this was a good idea? Why did I—”
Just then, I heard a crunching sound from the entrance of the tent and quickly shut up. Some more footsteps on sand followed, and then, a familiar boy stuck his head into the tent. The boy whose name, I realized just then, I still hadn’t asked for.
“Hello there.”
“Um…hello.” Waving at the little fellow, I scratched the back of my head. “I just realized…I never got to ask for your name.”
“No problem.” The boy chuckled. “Ain’t as if we met during a nice picnic on the beach. The name’s Le—ehem, Liam. Yes, Liam.”
“Victor.” With a smile, I gave the little fellow a nod. “Victor Linton. Nice to make your acquaintance.”
“Err…yours, too.”
“Great! Now, any particular reason you’re here? Or did you just come to provide a very welcome break from cooking?”
“Nah. Jackal told me you were looking for some more fruits and herbs.” Lifting the basket he had been carrying, Liam held it out towards me. “I’m supposed to bring them to you.”
“Oh my!” A wicked smile spread across my face and I snatched the basket immediately. “Thank you so much!”
