The Last Straw (The Jigsaw Files #4) - Sharon Sala Page 0,94
for all of us.”
But as soon as he left the room, Millie laid her head down on Rachel’s leg and wept.
Rachel tunneled her fingers in her sister’s hair.
“I know, Millie. I know. It was...it was...a nightmare. But I’m alive. I fought back. I hurt him, too, and he’ll have nightmares about me for as long as he lives. And that’s what I’m going to hold on to. I am not a victim. I am a survivor.”
Eighteen
The storm had passed sometime during the night, but the old mansion was cold when Charlie woke up. He got up, turned up the thermostat in his room and then went to shave and shower.
It was Sunday, his take-it-slow day. But he didn’t know what was on Wyrick’s agenda, because if she had one, that meant he was along for the ride.
He turned up the thermostat in the hall as he headed down the stairs, and then turned up the one downstairs, as well, before heading to the kitchen.
The last thing he expected was to see Wyrick sitting at the kitchen table, wearing old sweats, red wool socks and watching something on her laptop.
“Morning,” he said. “What’s up?”
“You mean, besides me?”
Charlie grinned. So this was how the day was going to begin.
“Now I’m afraid to comment,” he said.
She looked up at him and frowned.
“I’m watching a YouTube video on how to make pancakes. I can build rockets and make medicines. I can build cloaking devices for anything. I can hack anything on the planet without leaving a sign. I can heal people by just touching them, and play the stock market like a boss. I can create video gaming that is making me rich as sin, but I cannot freaking cook. From itch.”
Charlie stifled a laugh. “From scratch. The term is from scratch.”
“Yes, that,” she muttered. “I want pancakes. And I do not want to leave this property to go get them. I don’t even know if we have the stuff to make them, but if we do, I’m going to make pancakes.”
“I know how.”
She slammed the laptop shut and stood. “Then will you teach me? I only need to see it done to understand it.”
“Absolutely,” Charlie said. “Get a bowl and a whisk.”
“What’s a—”
He pulled the wire beater out of a container of spoons and spatulas and held it up.
“This is a whisk.”
“I’ll get the bowl,” she said.
“Get one bigger than the one you make salad in.”
“Yes,” she said and pulled out a clear glass bowl and set it on the counter.
“Okay, now we need eggs, milk, flour, baking powder and salt, sugar and vegetable oil.”
Wyrick looked at the counter and then toward the pantry, and then at Charlie.
“Do we have all that?”
“In labeled containers in the pantry. Come with me.”
He loaded her up with the baking powder, salt and vegetable oil, while he carried the canisters of flour and sugar to the counter. “Now get the milk and two eggs from the fridge, and we’re ready to mix.”
Wyrick was almost dancing as she flew to the fridge and came back carrying the gallon of milk and the eggs, then set them on the counter. She watched Charlie getting measuring cups from the cabinet, and a set of measuring spoons from a drawer and put them down beside the bowl. She was as focused on what he was doing as she would’ve been in a lab at UT, watching one of the scientists working on an experiment.
“Get the one-cup measure,” Charlie said. “The sizes are on the handle. I’ll talk, and you follow my instructions.”
She nodded.
“Take the lids off the flour and sugar so you don’t have to do that later. And when you’re making a batter, always start with all the liquids first. This glass cup is for liquid measures. These other cups are for measuring dry ingredients. So first, measure out two cups of milk and pour it in the big bowl.”
So she did, and the delight on her face when the first ingredient went into the bowl was pure joy.
“Okay, crack the eggs and add them into the milk,” Charlie said.
She cracked and dumped them with a degree of skill, learned from making herself scrambled eggs.
“Now we need about two tablespoons of oil in the liquid. I never measure, because I can pretty much guess, but for your first time, take that one-fourth-cup measure and fill it about half-full. I say half, because there are four tablespoons in one-fourth of a cup, so half of that would be two tablespoons.”