Page 84 of Man Hands
“Lookin’ good!” Ash cheers from somewhere out of mysight.
I’ve got nervous butterflies in my tummy. Or maybe that’s just the corn dogs I ate while prepping this episode. It’s not because I’m afraid to be on camera. It’s just that I’m so excited. I didn’t know I could have my dream job and my dream guy all at once. Throw in this amazing beach house we’re renovating, and I almost have to pinchmyself.
“Going live in sixty seconds,” Tom says with a smile. He looks so relaxed that it relaxes me too. The lights he set up are warm on my face, but not in a bad way. The moonstone glows on my finger, and the pretty little ramekins where I’ve arranged my ingredients sparkle. I tie my apron, the equivalent of a cowboy spinning his guns into hisholster.
The only worrying thing is the slap I hear from somewhere off set. There’s a Braht laugh and a high-pitchedgrowl.
“Omigod, quiet!”Iyell.
“Thirty seconds,” Tom says. “Ignore them. Look at me,honeybunch.”
Ido.
He smiles. “Fifteenseconds.”
I practice my non-awkward smile. Sadie gives a thumbs up and escorts her girls out the front door so they can dig in the sand for twenty minutes whilewefilm.
“Eight. You look hot, honey. Relax. Three…two…one…”
I smile into the camera and hold it for a count of three, then turn on the heat under my fry oil. Our intro music is fading out now, even though I can’t hear it. “Hello, from the beaches of Michigan!” I tell Tom. It’s easier to talk to a real person than to try to relate to acamera.
“Thank you for joining me on Brynn’s Bites. If it’s party food and it’s delicious, I’ll cook it up for you! Today we’re going to make corn dogs and also a sesame-carrot slaw, so we can pretend to care about our health.” I gesture at the gorgeous spread of carrots on the countertop. “If you have a thing for corn dogs, I want to hear about it. Email me at this address.” I point like Tom told me to, which is weird because I’m pointing at my boobs. He’ll fill in the graphic later. “And I’ll read some of your comments on next week’s show. Now let’s getcooking!”
This is fun. I can totally do this, I think. I pick up the cute glass mixing bowl and measure in ingredients, telling my viewers how to stir up a quickbatter.
“You know, I think a pinch of sugar makes sense. Let me grab that, and I can show you my new pantry! I’m so excited. I had to come down here and fondle the canisters in the middle of the night. This is where I keep my dry ingredients.” I poise my hand on the cut-glass doorknob that Tom chose. “Like dry beans, flours, and baking ingredientssuchas…”
I whisk thedooropen.
Several things happen at once. A dust cloud of white bursts from the door. Tom gasps. And a shocking noise vibrates from the rear of the pantry—a deep, primal sound. It’s the sound of someoneovertakenby…
A knee-quakingorgasm.
Still, my little brain can’t quite make sense of this until the dust—my organic flour—settles.Andthen…
I see Ash and Braht, covered head to toe in flour. They’re like two abominable snowmen standing in a pile of…clothes. Because they are naked. Totally naked. Covered in flour. I look down. If Braht really is named after bratwurst, I totally get it,becausedamn.
“Holy…!” I’m officially flailing.Literallyflailing, and shoving my body in front of the door’s opening, hoping the camera angle didn’t catch anythingjuicy.
But, hey, I’m a professional, so I recover rather quickly. “Holy sausage, I love my new pantry!” Maybe that line seems odd, but it’s the best I can do. We are live, and it’s happening right now, and a girl has to realize that this is a Julia Child moment.WWJC do?I face the camera and give a big, crazy smile. “Sugar, please!” I call over my shoulder. “And steponit.”
There’s the sound of movement behind me, and a canister is placed inmyhand.
I slam the pantry door. “Isn’t that a great feature!” Ibabble.
Tom is doubled over with silent laughter, so it’s possible we just made another accidental porn flick. It’s really surprising how easy it is to do that.Whoknew?
“All right,” I say, plunking the sugar down and opening the canister. I add the pinch of sugar to my other ingredients and stir up the batter. If I pretend like nothing happened, the lion’s share of my viewers might not evennotice.
This could go down like that ghost boy behind the curtains in that scene fromThree Men and a Baby. Weird, but less distracting than you’dthink.
Ghost boy. Ghost bratwurst. Samething?
“Don’t overmix!” I say cheerfully. “The buttermilk will activate the baking soda for anicerise.”
There are tears rolling down Tom’sfacenow.
“Then you put your wiener on a stick,” I say, daring the camera to try it. “Like this.” I jam a hot dog onto a wooden skewer and wonder what Braht’s wiener is up to in mypantry.
