Free Fear of the Dead by Mortimer Jackson

fork.
    “ Linus says he’s the greatest chef in the world. I told him that wasn’t saying much. And so to spite me, he’s making quiche.”
    “ It’s what all us connoisseurs of fine cuisine do. We spite people with food.”
    “ How are you making quiche?” asked Grace curiously.
    “ Egg beaters mostly. I know it’s a pretty big handicap. Milk’s too old to use, and the crust is getting a little rough. But the blue cheese is still good. And to top it off we still have some canned spinach. It won’t be perfect, but it should be good enough.”
    Linus looked different now. He seemed happier, somehow. He was smiling even after the conversation they’d had earlier in the day. Grace had never seen him so alive before. Not when they met for the first time, and even less so since he spent his days married to his radio.
    The change in spirit along was enough to inspire her own vitality. Seeing him the way she saw him now had been welcome enough to alleviate the weight of dread hanging over her like a cloud.
    “ I’ve never heard of anyone baking in a grill before,” added Grace to their conversation.
    “ Desperate times my love.”
    Grace smirked. And the sheer volume of light in the kitchen continued to faze her. Even on a sunny day outside it was never this bright. Grace missed just how much a bit of indoor lighting could do to a place.
    It was dazzling, to say the least.
     
    9:23 PM
     
    Time flew by fast. Vanessa, Grace, and Linus enjoyed a long strings of conversations and wine as they waited for their blue cheese quiche. Grace couldn’t remember how long it’d been since she had so much fun. They shared stories about their lives, about who they were before and what they’d do after things settled back down and civilization returned.
    “ You know what this place needs?” Linus asked.
    “ A better chef,” Vanessa mocked, and made sniffing noises at the air. Grace laughed harder than she felt she should have.
    But after all the time their dinner sat in the grill, Grace silently hoped that the food came out better than it smelled. Linus said the scent was from the blue cheese. Vanessa contemplated out loud whether or not it was a good thing, while Grace did the same in her head.
    After Vanessa’s guess failed to satisfy his question however, Linus answered it himself.
    “ Some music.”
    He told them to wait as they were while he took a flashlight to the electronics department. He came back lugging a cardboard box, which according to the printed image contained a Panasonic stereo system. Linus opened it, tossed away the styrofoam covering, and plugged the brand new stereo inside the last open slot on his outlet.
    “Anyone have something they want to listen to?”
    Of the CDs in the media aisle, Vanessa insisted they play Elton John. Tiny Dancer was the first song on their chosen disc. Linus got up and shook his body in a hokey parody of what might have passed for dancing to a blind lunatic. Grace jeered at him in jest, but when he held out his hand and asked her to join, she couldn’t refuse. Grace picked herself up off the seat and followed suit.
    Vanessa pointed fingers at the both of them. Grace laughed at herself, and so did Linus. They danced and sang with the song until dinner was finally done.
    As it turned out no one appreciated the quiche, least of all the chef himself. Linus threw it away, and they settled for boiled potatoes and peas.

Chapter Seven
     
    Day Six
     
    Friday
    April 25, 2003
     
    2:04 AM
     
    Dear Lord,
     
    Thank you for tonight. It was just what I needed. After that long dinner, I think I’m more tired now than I can remember. Vanessa is trying to sleep, so I am talking as quietly as I can. I know I should get some rest too. And I will. But I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate how much you’ve done for all of us.
    Seeing Linus happy for the first time is always a welcome change. I thank you for helping him find some piece of joy. We all need it at a time like this.