Better Than Chocolate by Pat Amsden Page B

– you know that’s not true,” Bente said, entering the kitchen. “I make sure it’s mainly Cheerios and Corn Pops with only the odd box of Count Choculas thrown in.”
          “That’s just self defence,” he said grinning. “You don’t want to be stuck dealing with a house full of kids jacked up on cereal.”
          “Got me there,” she said cheerfully, as she started setting the table.”
          “Tell me you’re not doing the cooking for this enterprise.”
          “I have a friend.”
          Brad snorted. “Horseshoes up her ass. You actually poisoned people before and you opened up a coffee shop?
      “And gallery,” she said defensively. “It’s not my fault I never learned to cook.”
          “Right. Blame it on the maids,” Brad said.
          “And you just happened to hook up with Mary how...?”
          “She just moved to Chemainus when I opened up my shop. She came in one day looking for her cat.” She shrugged. “I’d already found him and calmed him down.” She glanced at Bente and James. “He’d been chased by a large dog and was scared out of his wits, poor thing. One thing led to another and she volunteered to cook up some pie and things for me. What’s wrong with that?”
          Brad just shook his head in amazement. “Horse shoes up your ass. The lady in question just happens, happens to have run out of the most successful catering companies in Western Canada for years, decides to retire – and – lands on your doorstep. Did she even get to unpack?”
      “I don’t know,” Elena said defensively. “And she did volunteer. I mean I tried doing my own cooking. In fact it was after having a piece of my carrot cake that she volunteered.”
          Brad just looked at her and shook his head like he was about to break into laughter. She felt her face reddening.
          “I never asked her to. She volunteered.”
          “She probably didn’t want anyone killed,” Bente said laughing. “What on earth made you decide to open a coffee shop?”
          “And gallery,” Elena said defensively. “I know art. And I thought if I put the two together…”
          “It’s a good idea,” Brad said.
          “But didn’t you realize you were going to need a cook,” James said, barely able to contain the laughter in his voice.
          “I’m not stupid,” Elena said. “It can’t be that hard to cook a few cookies, do some pies and cakes.”
          “But wouldn’t you do that first, before you leased shop space say?”
          Surprisingly it was Brad who came to her rescue. “Besides she’s right. It’s a good idea and she doesn’t have to know how to cook – as long as she can find someone who does.”
          “You see, there’s a method in my madness.”
          It was organized chaos as Brad served up French Toast and bacon while Elena brewed a fresh pot of coffee and juice for the girls before shooing them out the door.
          “It’s so good to see you again,” Bente said with tears in her eyes as she hugged her before leaving to drive the girls to school while Jeff left for his job.
          She was left clearing everything up with Brad. In more ways than one. “You seem – so – domesticated,” she said as she loaded dishes into the dishwasher.
          “Just normal everyday stuff,” he said shrugging as he washed down the counter top.
          But it wasn’t everyday stuff at all. Not for Elena. “Then why don’t you understand?”
          “What?!” he said surprised.
          “Why be like my dad?”
          “I’m not ,” he said.
          “You are,” she accused, eyes flashing.
          He turned to face her. “I haven’t given him any information. And I won’t.”
          “OK, fine.” She turned away from him. “So where do we go from here?”
          “I don’t know.” But