Lizz Lund - Mina Kitchen 02 - Christmas Bizarre (18 page)

Vito shrugged.
“It’s an option.”

“
It’s pretty much straightened out. Sort of.”

Miriam looked doubtful. “You’re not staying
at your place with no heat, are you?”

“Vinnie and I
will be okay for one night. But it probably won’t come to that.”

“It sure won’t!
You’re staying here!”

Vito brightened.
“Hey, that’s a great idea!”

“Well, actually…”

“Sure! And you could help us win!”

“Win?”

Vito gaped a toothy smile brilliantly at me. At least, most of a toothy smile. “We’re practicing for the Manischewitz Cook-Off Contest! We’re entered!”

“Oh. Wow.”
Frostbite was sounding better and better.

“Yeah!
We got just three weeks to practice! See?” Miriam waved the contest literature in front of me.

“So, it’s a kosher contest?”

“Of course!”

“Do you have an entry dish?”
I know, I know. But someone has to ask, right?

“Several.
We’re still making up our minds. So we’re starting with the first one tonight. You can help taste it!”

“What are you making?”
Look, you want me to ask. Besides, you don’t risk digestive surprises where Vito and Miriam are concerned.

Miriam pumped a wooden spoon in the air.
“Concord glazed bacon wraps with shrimp!”

I considered a hasty Plan B involving a bald face
d lie about visiting the preggo sister in Northern VA. Or having shingles. Something.

I looked
again at the contest information, noticing the word
kosher
used about every other sentence, highlighted and in italics. Even though I’m goy, I get it about bacon not being kosher. But somewhere in the back of my head thumped the memory that shellfish wouldn’t be a welcome ingredient, either. “That’s pretty fancy.”

“Well sure!”

“Maybe you might try for something a little more…rustic?”

“You mean not washed?”

“No, Miriam. She means like big chunks. Don’tcha Toots?”

I swallowed hard.
“It’s very in now,” I fibbed.

“You see, Vito?
That’s why we need Mina’s help! I knew it!”

I made a point of looking at
a watch I wasn’t wearing. “Sure. Hey, I got to get going if I’m going to make the bank.”

“We
’ll take good care of Marie!”

I fled out the door and into the van,
racing toward Squirrel Run Acres. It hiccupped a little down the drive, but all was fine after I hummed a chorus of, “O Come All Ye Faithful.”

I pulled into the lot and sped through the icy air and into the kitchen.
Everything was black. Well, that is, everything was black except for the candles and flashlights dotted around the counters and on the range hoods. “What the?”

Hilda came bustling out of her office with her coat on, her hat
pulled down firmly to her eyebrows. Hector followed behind, waving his arms and shouting a lot of stuff with exclamation points.

“I know! I know! I’m going!”

“Why you not pay bill?”

“For the two-hundredth time – I did!
They say they never got it.”

“Why they no get?”

“How do I know? Do I run the post office?” Hilda spied me hovering near the stove. “Mina! Didn’t you and Chef mail the electric bill?”

Chef held up a hand.
“I did. It probably just got held up, somehow.”

“How late we behind
with this bill?” Hector’s face was turning a nice, warm shade of fuchsia.

“We’ve never been behind.
Until now. That’s why I don’t get it.”

I sighed.
“It’s their new policy.”

Everyone stared at me.

“They shut off my electric, too. Said they hadn’t received my payment.”

“For a first time being late?”

“Yes. The guy I talked to said they started the new policy last summer.”

“Sounds like a publicity snafu in the making.”
Chef shook his head, held a flashlight in his left hand and tossed greens and scallions sautéing in a pan with the other.

“Yeah. I can’t wait to see what else of mine gets shut off.”

“What?”
Hilda’s cheeks glowed a nice bright pink.

“My bills
were returned to me with ‘counterfeit’ stamped across the postage.”

“Well, that’s just peachy.”

“Huh?”

“Thanks for
giving me the stamp, Mina.”

“Oh my gosh! I totally forgot! Geez, I’m sorry!”

“I’m off. The gal there said if I pay cash right away, we’ll get the lights back on in an hour.”

Hector threw his hands up in the air and stomped toward his office.
I was pretty sure he was also stomping toward an emergency bottle of Sambuca, but that was only a guess because his breath smelled a lot like licorice. Unless of course he had a secret stash of Good ‘N Plenty candies under his desk.

I started after Hilda, but she was gone.
“Crap.”

“What’s wrong?” Chef asked.

“Same thing as here. I was hoping to get my pay from Hilda, so I can get to the bank before they close.”

“You need to pay cash too?”

I shook my head. “They took my credit card. But I need to make sure I’ve got the cash to pay the credit card.” Well, at least this portion of it anyway, I thought.

“Watch this,” Chef said, and handed me
the tongs.

I half-heartedly poked at the greens.

Chef returned and thrust an envelope in front of me.

“Oh, wow, thanks!”

He took the tongs back from me and began plating. “Not a problem. There’s extra there, too. The client left a nice tip.”

“Thanks!”

He stirred the pan some more. “We could use you Wednesday. That is, if you haven’t got anything else going.”

“Nope.”

“Great. We’ve got an early breakfast scheduled. Five o’clock.”

“You want me to be here at
five
?”

“No, the breakfast starts at five.
I need you here by four at the latest. Are you game?”

I shook my head.
“Okay. Sure. Geez, what are they, farmers?”

“Yep.”

“I might need a
wakeup call.”

He grinned.
“Because of the hour?”

I wasn’t sure I could ask anyone for a
pre-dawn wakeup call, except for Trixie. And I had no idea about her crazy calendar. “Pretty much.”

Chef looked sideways at me
. In the glow of the flashlight he looked a bit flushed. “Okay, not a problem. Hey, what are your plans tonight?”

“You
want me to work tonight, too?”

“No.
I was wondering what your plans are?”

“Huh?”

Chef sighed.
“You have no electricity. You’re not staying in your house with no heat, right? Do you have someplace to go?”

“Oh, right.
We’ll be fine.” Of course he wasn’t asking me out. What was wrong with me?

“We?”

“Vinnie and me. Marie’s already at Vito’s.”

“Smart thinking.”

“Well, you know me. Always planning ahead, ha, ha…” I began my awkward retreat and backed smack into a bus trolley chockfull of dirty dishes. A tsunami of dishwater sailed up over me. Splatters of water sizzled on the stove top.

“Hey, watch the greens!”

“Watch your back!” Arnie ran behind me, just barely catching the tower of cascading plates.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“It’s pretty dark in here. You better be careful. Or Hector will take it out of your pay!”

Arnie
was right about that one. If I continued like this, I’d be paying Hector for the privilege of working here.

I slunk out of the kitchen, relieved for the anon
ymity of the parking lot. I drove along to the bank, absent-mindedly singing something about five gold rings.

After a mild scuffle
at the drive-up ATM, I headed home. I hit the remote. Zippo. The power was still off. Great.

I
headed to the front door, racking my brains to think of where I might have stashed a flashlight. That is, if I had one. Hmm.

As I
fumbled for my key, I saw that only the storm door was on. The inside door was open. Great. Vito must have returned to my place for a secret ingredient. Like water. Well, at least the storm door was closed and Vinnie wasn’t on the outside of it. Vinnie? Why wasn’t he waiting for me as usual? “Vinnie?”

A groan
sounded from the basement. A human groan.

I rushed to the basement door, convinced Vito had taken another tumble.
I grabbed the candle in the kitchen, lit it, and headed downstairs.

There, at the bottom of the steps
, sat Vinnie on top of a prone form. “Vito?”

“
Feh. You know his real name’s Vladimir, right?”

I stared
at Buddy as he struggled to sit up. Vinnie continued to conquer his basement lair invader. Buddy swatted him away. “Keep it up, and I’ll turn you into a pair of mittens.”

Vinnie
chose to save the battle another day, and dashed upstairs between my feet.

“What are you doing in my basement?”

“What are my boxes doing out of your basement?”

“Huh?”

“Look!”

I did as directed and held
out the candle and looked –the maze of Vito’s questionable boxes were gone. But I wasn’t about to let on to Buddy. My Jersey came back on. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes you do, girlie!”
Buddy lurched toward me, then fell back, holding his head.

I held my candle higher.
He had quite a nasty gash on his forehead and it was bleeding all over the place. Him, the floor, everywhere.

“Look, I don’t know why you’re
here. Or why you’re bleeding all over my basement. But I’m going for help.” I hurried back up the steps and locked the door.

“You’re going to leave
here me alone? Bleeding in the dark?”

“You were bleeding in the dark before I got here.
Deal with it.”

I hustled out the front door and
clambered over Vito’s porch rail, tout de suite.

“Oh, I knew you would come home soon!
How’s the electricity? Do you want a sample? We decided for rustic bacon with peanut butter on soft pretzels with concord glaze. It’s amazing!” Miriam held forth a platter.

My stomach did a
somersault and I really, really wished I didn’t have Vito for a neighbor/roommate. However, at this particular juncture, I did want him to eliminate his old-time chum from my basement. And my life.

“Actually, I really need Vito’s help for a second.
Is he around?”

Miriam turned to summon him
, just as Vito stuck his head out from the kitchen. “Need help?”

“Yes.”

“Got it.”

For once Miriam didn’t toddle along – she was probably
contemplating the rustic aspects of diced gumdrops – while Vito stepped out with surprising alacrity. I filled him in.

“Okay, got it.
Hold on a minute.” He went to his car trunk, and returned with what looked like a small briefcase.

I stared at the briefcase.
“Are you going to make him an offer?”

“Not exactly.”

When we got back inside my house, we heard Buddy beating the band out of the basement door. “
You’ll never get away with this! I’ll have you for lunch!
”

I turned to Vito for some help with
the situation, when I noticed he had unpacked his briefcase and assembled what looked like a gun. With a silencer.

I gave into the moment.
“If you shoot him in my basement, we’ll never get him out. He’s not exactly a light weight.”

Buddy pounded some more.
“I heard that!”

Vito waved his hand and made shushing motions at me.
“You got Vinnie locked up?”

“Dunno.
I’ll check.” Exit stage left. Didn’t have to tell me twice.

I found the frowning feline in the middle of my bed
staring reproachfully at me. “Look, it’s not my fault, okay? Hang in there.” I shut the door and raced back downstairs. Vito stood waiting. “All clear. He’s in my bedroom.”

“Good.
Why don’t you go over and help Miriam with the shrimp?”