My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
13. Blame it on the
Brownies
It was late, actually
the
wee hours, and I hadn’t bothered to stay
up to say goodnight to our guest. But I was hungry now, which was surprising
after all those goodies at the pub. But then, I hadn’t had any supper later on. Chip
must have been of the same mind as he was standing
his pajamas and robe, just outside the Wardroom, looking toward the galley
through the ‘tween through . Just staring, yet unseen himself.
And indeed, what he
was
staring at was a sight to see.
Not that I’d
never seen Lee
lick a bowl of whatever special goo Cookie had prepared, but this time, well,
it was almost sensual the way he was licking the chocolate batter coated spoon
that Kate was feeding him with.
“I really love
to bake
brownies,” she was saying. “You must be so proud of your Yank invention.”
“My mother said
it was a
mistake actually,” Lee said, licking his lips and placing the spoon down,
“She said that someone, oh, back in the early 20th Century,
forgot to add baking powder to a cake, and viola, the brownie as we know it was
born.”
Then he and Kate began
to
use their fingers to swipe the remaining streaks of batter in the bowl to
finish it off.
But when she offered
her
batter streaked finger to his lips, Chip couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Excuse me!”
Chip said
barging in and forward to the ‘tween through’s counter. “Don’t you know the
danger of raw eggs?” Chip said, pointing to the half open egg carton.
It was a lame excuse
to
break up a rather intimate moment and he knew it was. All our eggs (when we had
them) were pasteurized.
“Say’s
right here,
Commander,” Lee said, turning the stenciled carton toward him, “we have nothing
to worry about.”
“Lee, may I see
you a
moment?” I asked, joining Chip at the counter.
“Of course, Harry.
Be right
back,” he took Kate’s hand and kissed it, then “sorry, Chi… Commander, it’s too
late to lick the bowl.”
“But I’m
sure we can spare
you a brownie,” Kate said sweetly. “They’ll be done soon.”
“Er, thank you…”Chip
replied, the wind effectively taken out of his sails. Temporarily, at least.
“Morton,”
I said, “I’d like
to speak with too, please.”
I waited until they
followed me out the side door into the companionway and I closed the door
before I began my tirade. “What is the matter with you, Lee? Cookie will have a
cow! Letting someone in his galley like that!”
“You think I
don’t know
that? But damn it, Harry, she offered to bake me brownies. Brownies! The most
beautiful woman in the world baking me brownies! You’d have done the same,
and you know it.”
“No I would not!
Busting
standard operating procedures unless it’s an emergency is not the sort of
behavior I expect from the captain of the Seaview! As for you, Morton, ‘the
danger of raw eggs’? You’re the procurement officer for God’s sake. You know
damn well what we order. What the blazes
got into you?”
I guess I was a bit too loud, for the door slowly opened and
Kate peeked around it, afraid of interrupting, then coming to a decision.
“I am so sorry,”
she said,
emerging fully. “I couldn’t help overhearing. I’m sorry I suggested brownies,
Lee. They’re all done, the bowl’s in the sink, the oven’s turned off…sorry I
made such a mess of things,” she said sadly and began to walk away. “I’ll show
myself off the boat. I have a photographic memory and…”
“Wait,”
Lee took her arm.
“You have nothing to apologize for. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. It’s too
late now to make amends, so there’s no reason we can’t still have brownies for a
late night snack. Isn’t that right, Harry?”
It was a statement,
not a
question and Lee was daring me to say anything to the contrary.
“Come along,
Chip,” I said,
“but, perhaps, you can save me one?”
“Perhaps,”
Lee said, then took Kate’s arm and led her back into
the galley, “but then,” he turned and winked, “perhaps not.”
