After-mash

Fiona walks into the kitchen, prepared to tangle with the mess of bottles and debris from last night’s party. Luc wasn’t in bed when she woke up so she assumed he’d gone to buy the paper. But there he is, sitting at the kitchen table, with his usual cappuccino. The...

Pickle

—Why do we always choose the hottest day of August to make these things? asks Anne, cramming another pickling cuke* into a quart jar. —   What are you complaining about? asks Fee, grinning. I’m the one pouring the boiling water. How many more to go? Anne...

Drama queen

Saturday morning chores: Luc’s gone to buy groceries while Fiona makes the satay sauce for the chicken*. She’s washing up the blender when Trish barges through the backdoor. Bald. —   Omigosh, Trish! Your hair! What happened? Trish bursts into tears....

Westward ho

—   Hi Mom, says Fiona. Just let me put you on speaker phone, I’m in the middle of making a carrot cake*. There. Can you hear me? —   You’ll never believe what that brother of yours is doing now, says her mother. —   Is he okay? asks...

Mission accomplished

For the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes, Fiona looks up at the starburst kitchen clock. Where the heck is Luc, she wonders. She considers dialling his cell, but doesn’t want to be a pest. He’s with his buds for their Friday after-work whine-fest; he’ll be home...