Pancakes & Pandemonium - Culinary Competition Mystery #6

Chapter 8

(Carla)

Carla's mother and Mick were sitting on the couch in her mom's frigid apartment. More accurately, they were entwined with each other under a rainbow-colored granny square afghan—that kept moving and shifting because they evidently couldn't keep their hands off each other. While all of the personal contact was a legitimate way to keep warm, it wasn't exactly something that Carla wanted to witness.

"Why don't we go down to Riverbend Café? When we came into town, I saw a sign that said they are serving free coffee and soup," Carla said as she pointed at the door. "After having cold cereal for breakfast, I certainly could use something warm to eat."

"That's a good idea. Hot coffee would be heaven right now. It's getting really cold in here," her mother said as she laid her head on Mick's shoulder. "Maybe you all can help me figure out how to heat my apartment since I have no fireplace or way to run a generator."

"I can solve that problem. Come stay with me. I have a wood-burning stove and a queen-size bed in the vardo I'm camping in while I repair the house." Mick waggled his eyebrows at Carla's mom. "I promise you'll stay very warm."

Carla shot Bruce a look of supreme discomfort. It just felt so wrong to be in the room with Macy witnessing her future grandfather's horniness. The baby didn't understand much vocabulary, but Bruce and Carla certainly got the gist of the comment. And...ewwww. He was talking to her mother.

"Oh, hush." Her mom's cheeks flushed. "We'll talk more later. For now, let's go see what Sophie has going on."

As soon as Carla settled Macy into the stroller, the baby fell asleep. She draped a blanket over the canopy to shield her sick daughter from the frigid wind. It had been a long night trying to keep the child who hated to be bundled up warm enough to keep her cold from getting worse. The strange bedtime routine—no bath, sleeping in her portable crib in the living room with Mommy and Daddy camped out on the hideaway bed—amped up the fussiness factor. Carla was glad that she wouldn't have to go to work until the doctor's office regained power, which would most likely be several days away yet. Working while sleep deprived was never a good thing.

The conversation topic for the walk up the street to the café was mercifully about the storm, instead of her mother and future stepfather's love life. Branches and random pieces of metal, most likely blown off of HVAC units on top of the buildings, littered the sidewalk. Some of the flying debris had broken windows, but that seemed to be the worst of the damage visible from the street. Carla supposed that a lot of business owners were sighing with relief that their shops and restaurants were still mostly intact. Although, the loss of income from not having electricity would be a financial hit for everybody, on top of any repairs that would need to be done.

It wasn't a surprise to find Amy dishing up bowls of soup from the pots set up on the riverbank beside the café. Carla's best friend enjoyed volunteering and helping people as much as she did cooking. Her long blonde hair was tucked into a gray, slouchy hat. She was wearing matching fingerless gloves and a pair of knee-high, black faux-fur boots that paired nicely with her tomato-red, wool pea coat. Not quite the type of uniform she would wear while working inside the café but perfect for some stylish campfire cooking.

Carla positioned the stroller close enough to the bonfire to get some warmth from the burning logs but far enough away so that a wind-whipped flame wouldn't be able to reach Macy or her stash of warm blankets. Then she hugged Amy. "How are you doing? How is your house?"

"We got lucky. A few sections of the fence look like a pile of giant toothpicks now, but that's about it." Amy glanced at the stroller. "How are you guys doing? Were you all able to stay warm?"