Maggie knew that training her is just as hard for me as it is for her. Here I am trying to do everyone a favor, yet every time I’m with her, I feel like I’m the bad guy.
“Okay, everyone,” I call out as I look up to face the class. “Your turkeys should be at just the right point to slip them out of the oven and baste them. If you haven’t done this before, I’m going to let Maggie demonstrate. Fun fact, she’s never done this before either.” I grin at the students, who find humor in this fact. “This should be fun to watch.”
Maggie shoots me an ice-cold stare before taking the baster in her hand like she wants to stab me with it.
“First, you’ll want to suck up that liquid at the bottom of the pan with the bulb. Just squeeze the top to close off the air, plunge it into the pan, and let go. Let’s see how Maggie does it.”
Something pointy hits my nostril, and the next thing I know, it feels like something is sucking air from inside my nose. “What the…” I jump back to find Maggie doubled over. The entire class erupts with laughter along with her. She did not just try to stick that bulb up my nose. The bulb is still in her hands as she tries to contain her laughter while tears stream from her eyes.
“Did you just try to stick that in my nose?”
Another burst of laughter comes from the classroom and Maggie, until it’s all too infectious to not join in. When my own amusement dies, I rip the bulb from her hand and toss it in the trash. After grabbing a fresh one from the drawer, I stand behind Maggie and place the bulb in her hand.
“Let’s try this again, shall we?” Then I look down and lean into Maggie’s ear. “Since you’re incapable of doing this yourself, I’m forced to help you.” I take her right hand with mine and wrap it around the bulb, then I place my hand around hers and look back up at the class. “Now fill up the syringe and release the liquid over your turkey. You’ll want to coat it generously and evenly.”
When Maggie still doesn’t move, I push her hand down until the suction opening dips into the liquid mixture of chicken stock and fresh seasoning.
“Just like that. Don’t be shy with how much you use.”
As I’m pushing Maggie’s hand toward the liquid again, she turns her head toward me and squeezes her eyes closed.
I chuckle at her expression. “What are you doing?”
Maggie peels an eye open to watch me just as she releases her grip on the bulb. “I can’t stand that slurping sound.”
“I hate to break this to you, but looking away won’t help your problem. Maybe you should start bringing earmuffs to work.”
She narrows her eyes again. “And maybe you should bring a better personality.”
This time, laughter comes from the one person I didn’t expect. Faye has her head tossed back, and she’s laughing way too hard.
Ugh. Arguing with Maggie is a huge waste of time. I snatch the baster from her hands and shoo her to the side. She doesn’t go far as she watches me cover the turkey in hot liquid.
“When you’re done,” I say loudly to the class, “go ahead and slip it back into the oven for another ten minutes. You just want to keep the moisture in, but we want to be careful so we don’t overcook it. No one wants to eat dry turkey.”
I continue to talk through the side-dish recipes while ignoring Maggie’s persistent glares. I don’t ask her to do another thing until it comes time to slice the turkey.
“Slicing turkey is an art. You want the best cuts without shredding your poor meat to smithereens, so pay attention.”
I come up behind Maggie, who stiffens a little while I chuckle. I wrap my hand around hers to demonstrate to the class both the good and bad ways to hold their knives.
“Relax,” I tell her so only she can hear. “You don’t need such a strong grip. Let the knife do the work, not you.”
“I can’t relax when you’re on top of me like that.”
“Do you want me to move?” I ask before biting my lip. “Can you do this on your own?”
She looks up at the students, who are waiting for my instructions, and sighs. “Just do what you need to do. I’ll disinfect myself later.”
I’m chuckling