Fed up

Francie. On the upside, the house, much older than the others in the neighborhood, had the charm notably missing from the new construction that dominated the street. I’d waited in the parking lot to make sure that mine was the last car to leave; I hadn’t wanted to get there until the rest of the group had arrived. Lingering, I again primped in my rearview mirror, and then locked my purse in my Saturn, took my keys with me, and made my way past overgrown shrubs and weeds to the back door, which stood open. Through the screen door, I saw Josh standing at the kitchen sink.
    “There you are,” he called to me.
    “Sorry.” Smoothing my hair and reapplying makeup must have taken longer than I’d calculated.
    My first thought on entering Leo’s kitchen was that Robin must be having a fit. So much for the theory that Leo’s appearance meant that he’d have a fancy, photogenic kitchen. At a guess, it had been updated thirty or forty years earlier, and renovations done since then had been partial. The cabinets were made of a pale synthetic material intended to simulate birch, and the floor was covered in brick-patterned linoleum. The walls were white, as was the refrigerator, but the dishwasher was black, the sink was stainless steel, and the stove a hideous avocado green. Although the room itself was large, there was little free counter space, and the layout had evidently been planned by someone who didn’t cook. The refrigerator was far from the sink and stove, and I wasn’t sure that it would be possible to open the refrigerator door without smacking the new-looking but awkwardly placed granite island in front of it. I sighed softly. Well, if anyone could work in this space, it was Josh. And at least the range was gas, and at least Josh had a cooperative subject, Leo.
    In contrast, Francie, as I assumed her to be, looked less than cooperative. She was a slim, almost scrawny, woman with frizzy waves of dark hair. She stood with her arms crossed while addressing Robin in a high-pitched voice. “It’s just that we don’t seem to have the best setup here, and... well, I just don’t know about all this.” She uncrossed her arms and waved her hands around almost in the manner of a startled infant. “I’m not, uh, someone who belongs on TV.” Then, as if having hit on an effective argument that stood a chance of driving her unwanted guests from her house, she said with confidence, “I really think you could do better.” She ruined the effect, however, by throwing a pleading glance at Leo.
    “Hey, it’ll be fun, Francie! Lighten up. I was a little nervous at first, too, but wait until you see what this chef here, Josh, is going to make for us. Actually, what he’s going to teach us to make. There’s lamb for you. Lamb chops. You love lamb chops. Come on!” Leo whispered something into wife’s ear.
    She shrugged and forced a smile. “Well, I guess so. Why not? I am starving.“ Francie took off a navy linen blazer and tossed it on the back of a chair by a small breakfast table. When she turned to face us, she had a hint of a smile. Although she was not even close to beautiful, she was striking, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw. With the right makeup—she wore none that I could see—she’d have looked distinguished. Now that she’d taken off her blazer, her white linen shell revealed a surprisingly curvaceous build. “So, what do I do?” she asked.
    Josh already had the cheese selections unwrapped and coming to room temperature on a plate, and the rest of the ingredients were spread out across every available space. Within minutes, Josh, who was used to running a restaurant kitchen, had finished assigning all of us to separate work areas. Digger, Marlee, and I were given the humble task of peeling potatoes for the gnocchi. Josh was showing Leo and Francie how to make the arugula pesto. We potato peelers were stationed at a small table, and although we kept bumping elbows, our spirits were good. Josh had had the foresight to bring a lot of his own kitchen equipment, including some pots and pans, but Leo and Francie did have an adequate supply of the basics, including a Cuisinart food processor.
    At the counter near the sink, Josh was teaching Leo to make pesto in the Cuisinart. Standing next to Leo, he was supervising as Leo put the ingredients in the bowl of the machine. “So, we have arugula, pine nuts, garlic, Parmesan cheese, Calamata olives, lemon juice, a little salt, and olive oil.