Just
Desserts
©2010 The Angst Guy (theangstguy@yahoo.com)
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Synopsis: Timothy O’Neill makes a special dinner for Janet
Barch—right after Barch makes O’Neill stop taking that completely unnecessary
psychiatric medication.
Author’s Notes: MMan began an Iron Chef competition on PPMB in May 2003,
on the topic of “guilty pleasures” that characters in the Dariaverse might
secretly have. Ranchoth came up with a story (“Really Guilty Pleasures”) in
which Timothy O’Neill has an unusually perverse secret pleasure, and I wrote a
postscript to his story that has been turned into its own short story here.
(I’m a steak man, myself.) This takes place soon after the TV movie, Is It College Yet?
This tale,
like many of my sillier stories, makes use of a free font called Cuckoo for the
titles and subtitles. This cheery, useful font can be easily acquired (free!) from
Urbanfonts.com or Abstractfonts.com.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to MMan and Ranchoth for the contest and
inspirational story, and special thanks to Thomas Harris for his most excellent
novel,
*
Janet Barch
sighed in contentment when she finished her salad and pulled her chair closer
to the table in Timothy O’Neill’s dining room. This promised to be the best
meal she had ever had in her life.
And a man had cooked it. In her
book, Timothy had earned the Nobel Prize in Boyfriend-ology.
“Two things I’ll say for you, Skinny,”
Janet said in her shrill voice, putting her napkin back in her lap. “First,
you’re sure a lot wilder now that you’re not taking that idiotic medication
that psychiatrist was giving you. You used to be a washed-out dishrag, no fun
at all except in the sack! Oh, I admit that I love your sensitive, cuddy side,
but I also love it when you’re a little bit of a rakehell, too! You’re light
years more fun than that creep I married all those years ago when—ah, hell,
forget it! You’re just a hoot!”
Timothy O’Neill wiggled his eyebrows up
and down at his girlfriend of four years now, a fellow teacher at
Janet laughed. This was too good to be
true. “I’ll tell you something else, Skinny—you sure can cook! Tell me what the
main course is, that roast you made. I’m so juiced up from smelling it, I feel
like one of Pavlov’s mutts!”
Mr. O’Neill wagged a forefinger.
“Tut-tut, my dear!” he said with a smile. “You know how I like to keep my
guilty pleasures a secret!”
“Oh, c’mon!”
Janet’s voice lowered an octave. “If you tell me the recipe, I’ll... make you
my teacher’s pet.” She growled deep in her throat and undid her blouse another
button downward. “Or maybe I’ll be your teacher’s pet. Take your pick!”
O’Neil sighed
in mock surrender. “Oh, very well, but you must promise me you won’t tell
anyone else! This will be just your secret and mine, my dearest!”
“You got it, Skinny! Now, spill it and
get your extra credit!”
“Well,” said O’Neill, putting down his
napkin, “you remember that teachers’ strike last school year? There was a
Language Arts substitute hired for the juniors, a Mister—”
“Ken Edwards, the bastard,” grumbled Ms.
Barch. Her good mood was entirely spoiled. “Ooo, I
wish I’d gotten my hands on him before he started putting his filthy paws on
those poor girls in his class. I’d have thought up a whole new type of corporal
punishment for the likes of—”
“Ken Edwards,” interrupted O’Neill,
unperturbed. “The very one. As chance would have it, I
happened to run into him again, just the other day when I was taking
applications for adult counselors for my Okay-to-Cry summer camp for this
coming—”
“You took him on as a camp counselor?”
Janet shrieked. She pushed her chair back from the table and threw down her
napkin in a rage. “How could you?”
“No, no, no!” said O’Neill
soothingly, still smiling. “Not at all! I didn’t hire
him, dear Janet. He showed up hoping to be hired, but I did remember
him—quite well, I must say. He hadn’t changed a bit. He was the same clever,
slimy Ken, asking if he could get on the Okay-to-Cry-Corral staff. He
apparently didn’t remember me, but I had spoken with Ms. Li and I read his file
when he was fired.” O’Neill sighed. “Same old Ken.”
Barch groaned. “Well, knowing you, you
probably invited him to dinner instead of punching him out.”
O’Neill looked at Barch in surprise.
“Why, Janet—that’s exactly what I did! I had him join us for dinner tonight!”
The look of shock on Barch’s face was
memorable. “You what?” she yelled.
O’Neill nodded in satisfaction. He picked
up a fork, carefully speared a small piece of the prepared meat on the platter
between them, and lifted it to Janet’s lips. “How did you like him?” he asked
with an expectant smile.
Janet stared at Timothy. “How do I...” Her gaze lowered to the fork—and the meat on it.
A long moment passed. O’Neill waited. He
was very patient even without the medication.
“What?” said Janet dully.
Timothy nodded happily.
Janet’s mouth fell open. “I can’t...
you’re making a joke, right?”
Timothy shook his head. With his left
hand, he reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a man’s wallet made of fake
black alligator leather. This he held out to Janet in one hand, the forkful of
meat in the other.
Ms. Barch slowly took the wallet and
opened it. Ken Edwards grinned up at her from his driver’s license. The world
came to a stop.
After a long moment, Janet looked up.
Greater astonishment than hers was simply not possible.
“Really?” she asked.
O’Neill nodded, still smiling. “Quite so.”
“You just—you—”
“Oh, it was very quick, I assure
you—although I was careful to let him know why it was happening first. He was quite
taken aback!” Timothy chuckled at the memory. “That Ken.
He wasn’t cut out for teaching, but... he was cut out perfectly for dinner.”
Janet blinked. “You’re not kidding, are
you?”
“I assure you,
Janet, I am deadly serious about my cooking.”
Janet stared at Timothy, then at the
morsel on the fork.
Hesitantly, she leaned forward and took
the offered bite in her mouth. She chewed reflectively and closed her eyes.
It was strange. It was different.
It was heavenly.
“Skinny,” she said in awe after she
swallowed, “You’ve given me the best meat I’ve ever had in my life! You can
take that any way you like, and it’s still true! This is better than ice
cream!”
O’Neill sighed
in profound relief. “That’s wonderful, my dear! I was hoping you’d like
it!” He indicated the platter. “Care for more?”
“Well,” said Janet doubtfully, “I was
planning to save room for dessert, but—” She tossed Ken’s wallet aside and picked
up her plate “—hell’s bells! Pile it on, Skinny!”
As Timothy gave her an extra-large helping,
Janet smiled at her true love. He really was a lot more exciting without
that damn medication.
“You know,” she said, “I overheard Quinn
Morgendorffer the other day talking about her cousin’s wedding, and she
mentioned this particular minister in Leeville....”
Original: 07/28/03; modified 07/22/06, 09/23/06, 11/05/09,
05/05/10
FINIS