Shiver(25)
Raven got up from the table and made her way to the sink to make a pot of tea. She didn’t need to think about how she’d looked when she was younger. Or how she’d acted.
Chickadee smiled. “As long as I don’t look like Lynx.”
Aidan laughed. “Nope, nothing like Lynx.”
Raven put the kettle on to boil and turned around. Aidan was looking directly at her.
“What about Tern?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Raven. “Is she still around, causing trouble somewhere?”
“Tern moved to Fairbanks and opened an art gallery type gift shop called The Arctic Tern,” Fiona said. “She’s doing very well. I’ve given up hope of any of my girls settling down.” Fiona arrowed a look at Raven.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Fiona moved to the fridge and opened it, pulling out sandwich makings. “Still a fan of my Reubens, Aidan?”
His mouth dropped open. “Yes, ma’am.”
Fiona smiled. She loved a man who appreciated her cooking, but this time she set all the ingredients out on the counter and turned to Raven. “Here you go, Raven. Make him a sandwich. Come on, Chickadee.” She motioned with her hand. “Let’s go help out in the dining room.” Chickadee grumbled but followed Fiona out of the kitchen, leaving Raven to wait on Aidan.
The lodge had a private kitchen for the family, and then an industrial version, with her Uncle Pike running the stoves, adjacent to a large dining room and restaurant for guests and anyone else after a hot, home cooked, Alaskan meal.
The tea kettle whistled. Raven turned off the heat and prepped her mug with a tea bag, pouring hot water into it, adding in milk. “You want a cup of tea?”
“Yeah, that sounds great.”
She placed a mug in front of him, along with the cream. “There’s sugar if you want it.” She indicated the pottery bowl squatting in the middle of the table.
“Thanks.” He reached for the cream and stirred, leaving out the sugar. He ran his finger down the side of the cup. “Great mug, love the colors how they bleed from blue to green.”
“Thanks.” She turned back toward the sandwich makings. “I made them.”
“You made this?” He looked closer at the mug. “It’s nice. Great form, stylish yet functional handle.” He glanced around the kitchen, noticing other pottery pieces. He picked up the bowl in the middle of the table that her mother used for fruit. “Did you make this too?”
“Yes.”
“You’re very talented. How did you get into pottery?”
“Long story.” One she didn’t want to go into right now as it was one of those choices made as a result of her teenage pregnancy. “You still want that Reuben?” She needed to get his mind on food and off her.
“Can you make a Reuben like your mom?” Aidan put the bowl down and looked at her skeptically. “If I remember right, you weren’t too handy in the kitchen.”
She scowled at him, set aside her tea, and grabbed the corned beef. “One little fire and nobody will let you live it down.”
“It wasn’t so little.”
“You want to eat or not?”
“All right. Shutting up.”
“Careful, that’s one of the ‘s’ words.”
He laughed. “Fiona’s still doing that? Is the cost still a quarter?”
“Of course she’s still doing it. With inflation the fee has now risen to a dollar.”
“Ouch. I’ll have to put in an IOU until I can get to my things.” He glanced out the dark window at the snow-blanketed wilderness. “Have any idea when that might be?”
“Tomorrow, hopefully.” She sliced thin pieces of corned beef and heated them in a skillet. Toasting thick slices of rye, she spread on her mother’s secret sauce, and then transferred the heated pieces of meat to the bread.
“Man, that smells good,” Aidan said. She glanced up and caught him watching her, and raised a brow. He smiled. “Seems you’ve found your way around the kitchen, after all.”
Fox came busting in, carrying a plate of French fries, a smile splitting across his face, the dimple on his left cheek winking. “Look what I made.”
Raven grinned with pleasure at seeing her son. His face was alight with accomplishment and pride.
“Uncle Pike told me what to do, but he let me do it all by myself. I even handled the deep fryer myself.” He held out the plate. “Taste ‘em. They’re great.”
Raven grabbed a fry and bit into it, the taste exploding in her mouth, spicy and tangy with the perfect amount of salt. “Fox, these are wonderful. What did you put on them?”