Page 36 of You Chive Me Crazy
That got a few laughs, but all eyes were still on me, waiting for my reaction.
I took a deep breath and let it go because it wasn’t worth my time.
Damian was a hapless bonehead, and I would not let him ruin my breakfast with things that dripped out of his mouth. The man had to rely on a bird to do his dirty work.
“We don’t want Alexa learning derogatory things like that,” Betsy said, shaking her head with disapproval at Damian. “We like to keep things civilized and rated PG around here, if you don’t mind. Please watch what you say to her, so we don’t have any further surprises when we get up tomorrow morning.”
Alexa squawked. “I love the smell of napalm in the morning.”
That got a bigger laugh from the guests.
Betsy smiled proudly. “Like I said, her vocabulary is very extensive, somewhere around a thousand words and phrases. Marty and I watch movies just about every night, and Alexa is always with us. And once she learns something, she never forgets. She still repeats things she learned over ten years ago.” She turned to Alexa, stuck her fingers through the cage and scratched her on the side of the neck. “What’s your favorite food, Alexa?”
“Apples,” the parrot said, leaning into the scratch, obviously enjoying it. “You are the apple of my eye.”
“What a delightful bird,” Harmony said as she watched Alexa comb her feathers with her beak. “Speaking of apples—we love all things baked, and there’s an apple strudel food truck we want to try out this year. We also want to try Zoe’s famous baked potatoes. Can’t wait to try them on day three. They soundde-lish!”
“Thank you,” Zoe said, taking another bite of her blueberry scone. “I hope you enjoy them.”
“Lucas—tell us how you and Zoe met,” Kay said. “I’d love to hear the story.”
It wasn’t a topic I wanted to discuss with a dining room full of strangers, so I decided I would answer ambiguously. “Believe me, it’s not as interesting as Betsy's and Marty’s story. Zoe and I met on a cold, dark night, and that was about it.” I chuckled. “I’d love to know how Hank and Harmony met. Love your shirts, by the way.”
“Thank you,” they said together.
Damian snorted derisively. “Way to skirt the subject, Lucas.” He jabbed his fork in the air at me and Zoe. “Supposedly, he and Zoe met in culinary school and things didn’t go according to plan. I’m privy to the rumors, being in the business and all, but maybe you wish to tell it yourself.”
What a jerk.
“Oh, that's interesting,” Hank chimed in. “So, are you a chef, Lucas?”
“Chef? Ha! That's a good one,” Damian said, obviously changing his mind about wanting me to speak. “I doubt he can cook anything more complicated than insta-noodles. He got kicked out of the culinary institute and ended up becoming a food critic, so he could take out his bitterness of complete failure on other chefs.”
And there it was, the one thing I did not want to talk about.
He was really trying to push my buttons.
A flash of irritation rose inside me, but I kept my cool. “Not true. Nice try, though.”
Damian set his fork down. “Are you telling me you didn’t get kicked out of culinary school? Are you going to lie about it?”
I gritted my teeth. “No, that part was true, but you are misinformed about me having the bitterness of failure and taking it out on other people. I’ve never lied in any of my reviews, and I don’t take out anything on anyone. I give honest reviews, even if they sting a little.”
“Just admit it . . .” Damian leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “You thought you were above the rules and you cheated on a project to get ahead at the institute, instead of putting in an honest day’s work like the other chefs. What does that say about your character?”
“Are we going to have these types of conversations at every meal?” Kay frowned and gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m sensing a lot of hostility in the air, and I would really like to relax while I’m on vacation.”
“I agree,” Harmony said, reaching over and placing her hand on top of Hank’s. “Please pass the bacon and let’s get the subject back to food.”
Marty passed the platter of bacon in her direction.
Damian shrugged. “I simply want the truth—that’s all.”
I felt my blood boil, but before I could say anything, Alexa suddenly squawked and broke the tension. “You can't handle the truth!”
I couldn’t help chuckling, along with a few of the others.
“Maybe that’s our cue to change the subject and continue to enjoy this wonderful breakfast that Marty and Betsy have prepared for us,” I said, helping myself to more scrambled eggs and adding some hot sauce over the top.
