(1984)
(All I could think about today was fried potatoes and bacon. I was really hungry this morning so I wrote about it... Don't judge!)
Kayla looked out her bedroom window at the horizon. She took in the dim sunlight hidden by gray clouds and knew it was going to rain.
She got out of bed, slipped on her peach-colored silk robe, and headed downstairs.
Halfway down the stairs she heard the sound of bacon sizzling on an iron skillet and flirtatious laughter.
Kayla shook her head and continued down the stairs. It could only be Ren.
Turning the corner into the kitchen, Kayla saw Fred at the stove poking strips of bacon with a fork. Ren sat at the island cutting potatoes.
She giggled. "Eric, you're cutting them too small. Here, let me show you." She held out her hand and Eric gave her the knife. She demonstrated by slicing a skinned potatoe down the middle. "You cut it three times like this," she said. "Then put them back together and cut them side-ways into cubes."
Eric lifted a brow. "What's the point of putting them together?"
"So they're the same size when you cut them."
She handed the knife back to Eric and smiled. "Try again."
"Good morning," Kayla said as she entered the kitchen, walking toward the fridge. "Is there any juice?"
"There should be. Look on the door." Fred said over a shoulder.
"I put it on the table." Ren supplemented.
"The bacon is done." He turned off the burner and brought the skillet to the island.
Kayla followed closely behind, watching as he scooped bacon onto a napkin-covered plate.
The bacon smelled wonderful and Kayla could feel her mouth water with excitement. She hasn't eaten bacon in such a long time. She wouldn't wait to dip the crispy piece of pork into a sweet pool of maple syrup.
"It's still hot." Fred said, as if he read her mind.
"Ren's frying the potatoes?"
"Yeah," Fred stood and brought the bowl of chopped potatoes to the stove. "Eric just needs to cut the last two and then I'll get started."
"That could be a while." Eric teased, grouping the potato slices together and taking his time to match them up perfectly.
Ren smiled and shook her head. "We don't have all day, Eric. I'm going to the fabric store later to pick up some patterns for the skirt I'm working on." She turned to Kayla and her face instantly brightened. "You should come with me. I still haven't started on the jacket you wanted. You could pick the patterns for yourself."
The jacket was supposed to be mostly denim, aside from a stream of white lace along the arms and a patch of glitter on the shoulders. She got the idea from Jon Bon Jovi, who wore a similar jacket in a photo shoot for last month's R.I.P. Magazine.
"How hard is it to pick up lace, denim, and glitter fabric?"
Ren lowered her eyes at Kayla. "How hard is it to come along?"
Eric groaned. "Just go with her." He pushed himself up from the island and carried two potatoes to Ren.
"Eric and I have practice anyway." Fred said. "You'd be alone if you didn't tag along."
Kayla looked over at him, then to the strip of bacon in his hand. "That's not hot?" she asked.
"Actually, yes, it is hot." he made a face and swallowed.
"Fred," Ren nagged. "Stop! Put everything on the table before it's gone. The potatoes won't take long."
***
Kayla went around the table, setting a napkin beside each paper plate. The dinning room hadn't been used since Thanksgiving and the wine red cloth still covered the table.
Fred was seated at the far end of the table, his legs crossed beneath it.
"I heard about what happened yesterday." he said, slouching further in his seat.
"What happened?"
"You're going on a date with Tom."
"Who?"
Fred paused and stared blankly at her for a long moment before saying, "The guy that came over yesterday that you agreed to go out with..."
Kayla blushed and set another napkin. Shit, she thought.
"You're not going to ask who told me?
"I already know who told you. The same person who tells you everything else because she can't keep her big mouth shut." she hissed.
