Turning Up the Heat

by Diane Muldrow

  mooretimes2: OK. whew!GTG, b-b

  happyface: L8R

  qtpie490: b-b chef grrrrlz

  “Come on, kids, we don’t have much time,” said Dad sharply. “atthew! Stop running off, and put back that junk food.”

  Dad had taken the twins and Matthew to Choice Foods to shop for the party. In a total stroke of luck, Mom had decided to jog around Prospect Park this morning before Dad took her out for her birthday brunch at Kari’s Kitchen.

  Now they were almost finished shopping.

  “Do we have everything?” Molly was checking the list she and Amanda had written up with Dad the night before. Matthew was trying to pop wheelies with the shopping cart.

  “Cut it out, Matthew!” Molly said. “I have to concentrate on this list. ”

  Hot dogs

  veggie burgers

  potato chips

  pretzels

  soda (Especially root beer and cream soda!!)

  beans

  onions

  hamburger meat

  tomatoes

  potatoes

  salad stuff

  fruit

  eggs

  milk

  sugar

  mustard

  ketchup

  mayonnaise

  buns

  paper plates, party hats,

  streamers!

  “I think we have everything,” Molly said as she finished running through the list.

  “Dad, this is gonna cost like two million dollars,” said Matthew.

  “Don’t worry about it, sport. Let’s get in line,” said Dad. “Go. Go.” He guided Matthew up the aisle to the checkout. Dad seemed to be in a bad mood, but the twins knew that he was just worried about getting back to the house before Mom did.

  “Girls, we probably don’t have time to put the groceries away,” said Dad as he started the car. “So we’ll just throw everything in the den. Okay? Then you can bring it into the kitchen after Mom and I leave. Then you’re on your own for a few hours until I get back. Be really careful, okay?”

  “Yeah, don’t burn the house down!” cracked Matthew.

  “Okay, Dad,” said Amanda.

  “Don’t worry, Dad,” added Molly, laughing.

  “Excellent!” said Dad. “There’s a parking spot right in front! Now, everybody grab a grocery bag.”

  Well, duh, thought Molly. We’re not babies. Dad must be really stressed-out.

  Dad led the way to the front door, put down his grocery bags, and reached in his pockets for his keys. He reached deeper. There was no familiar jangle of keys. “Oh, no,” he muttered. He quickly looked left and right, as if hoping to see the keys magically appear.

  Amanda felt her hands go cold. Molly felt like a bowling ball was sitting in her stomach. They looked at each other worriedly as Dad reached in his other pocket. Matthew was clueless. He was waving at Ben, who was across the street, and making stupid faces at him.

  “Uh, Dad,” said Molly. “Don’t you have your house keys?”

  “They’re not here!” moaned Dad. “Where could they be? I thought they were with my car keys.” He looked anxiously up the hill to see if Mom was coming. “Great! Now we can’t get in until your mom gets home!”

  “Well, what are we going to do?” cried Amanda. “The whole surprise will be spoiled!”

  chapter 4

  Molly looked down at the ground and tried not to giggle, but she couldn’t help it. It was just something she did when she got stressed-out.

  Amanda wasn’t laughing. “Molly! What are you laughing for!” she cried.

  Dad was still looking around for the keys, checking his pockets for the millionth time.

  Molly looked at Matthew.

  “I have an idea,” she said.

  “Oh, great,” groaned Amanda. “Just what we need, one of your brilliant ideas.”

  “No, this will really work!” insisted Molly. “We’ll open the bathroom window on the side of the house. Matthew can probably fit though there. And then he can unlock the front door!”

  “Cool!” exclaimed Matthew. “I’ll break into my own house!”

  Dad nodded his head and smiled. “Way to go, Molls,” he said. “Let’s hurry!”

  The family ran around to the side of the house. Dad tried to push up the bathroom window.

  “Unh,” he grunted. “This is—really—stuck.”

  “Do ya want me to help ya, Dad?” asked Matthew. “I’ve been doing push-ups with Ben. Look at my muscles!”

  No one looked.

  Dad kept pushing, and his face turned redder and redder.

  “Dad! Take it easy!” cried Amanda.

  “Oof!” Dad pushed even harder. Finally, the window opened with a loud pop.

  “Okay, Matthew, in you go,” said Dad, lifting Matthew up. “I’m so glad we never got a new screen for this window.” Matthew put his head and shoulders through the opening.

  “He fits! All right!” cried Molly.

  “Hold on to me, Dad!” said Matthew. “Don’t let go!”

  “Grab on to the heat pipe,” said Dad. “I’ll push you in slowly. Brace yourself with your foot on the wall.”

  Matthew got all the way in. “I did it!” he cried.

  “Go, Matthew!” cried Dad and the twins. They turned and headed for the front door.

  A few seconds later, Matthew opened the front door. They grabbed the bags and ran to stash them in the den.

  As soon as they were done, Mom came in, still breathing hard from her run. Phew! Just in time!

  “Oh, hi, honey!” said Dad. “How was your run?”

  “Hi, Mom! Did you run all the way around?”

  “Hi, Mom, are you sore?”

  “Mom, you don’t smell so good.”

  Finally, Mom and Dad were gone (at least for a few hours!), and Matthew was riding his bike with Ben. Shawn had just arrived with the Texas Sheet Cake recipe and a bag of pecans, and Peichi was on her way.

  “Oops!” said Molly, slapping her forehead. “We forgot to call Natasha.”

  Just than, the doorbell rang. “That’s Peichi,” said Molly. She ran to the door. But when she opened it, Natasha was standing there, wearing blue cargo shorts and a pink T-shirt.

  “Hey!” she said.

  “Natasha!” exclaimed Molly. “Hi! I-um-I was just going to call you!”

  “I guess I should’ve waited for you to call, but my mom’s been on the phone all morning. So I just thought I’d come over.” Natasha tucked her blond hair behind her ears and cleared her throat.

  “That’s cool. Did you run here?” Molly asked, looking at Natasha’s running shoes.

  “Sort of,” Natasha replied.

  “Well, come on in,” Molly said. “We’re about to start cooking.”

  “Cool,” said Natasha softly as Molly led her down the long hallway to the kitchen. The radio was blasting and Amanda and Shawn were talking and laughing loudly.

  They suddenly stopped laughing when they saw Natasha, not Peichi, walk in.

  “Oh, hi, Natasha!” said Shawn.

  “Hi, Natasha!” echoed Amanda. “Um, how are you?”

  “I’m okay,” replied Natasha. “How are you?” She smiled, and for the first time, her light blue eyes didn’t seem so cold.

  Get outta here! thought Shawn. Natasha actually looks happy...for once!

  She’s actually pretty when she smile, thought Amanda.

  “This kitchen is so nice!” exclaimed Natasha, looking around. “I love it. No wonder you guys like to cook.”

  ‘I love it?’ thought Molly. Hold the phone—what have they done with the real Natasha? This can’t be her!

  “Yeah, it’s great,” said Molly proudly. “Our mom decorated it. Amanda and I spend more time in here than we do in our room! We do our homework in here, play games in here...”

  “Um, I can see why,” said Natasha, as her eyes traveled slowly around the room. She seemed to take in every detail: buttery yellow walls bordered with deep blue and green tiles from
Spain. Rugs shaped like apples and pears adding cheerful patches of color to the glossy wooden floor. Funky old dishes and bowls displayed behind cupboards with glass doors. Gleaming copper pots dangling from a large iron rack that hung from the high ceiling.

  Suddenly, no one knew what to say next. Someone cleared her throat. Just then, the doorbell rang.

  Saved by the bell! thought Molly. “I’ll get it!” she said. “That’s Peichi.”

  “Hi, Chef Girls! Hi, Kitty! Here, Kitty, Kitty!” called Peichi, she came down the hallway. Matthew’s cat, Kitty, came skidding in ahead of her. She was always trying to get away from Peichi.

  “Hi!” said everyone.

  “Nice top,” noted Amanda.

  “Thanks! Hi, Natasha!” said Peichi. She didn’t seem at all surprised that Natasha had actually showed up. But that was Peichi. Nothing fazed her. Natasha hadn’t been so nice to Peichi at that first cooking class earlier in the summer. But Peichi let it roll off her back. She was the most happy-go-lucky person the girls knew.

  Peichi looked at her friends. Her shiny black hair was swept up into a high ponytail that divided into three thick braids. She was wearing a denim skirt, a blue camouflage T-shirt, and hot pink beaded flip-flops. Her dark brown eyes shone. “Are we ready to cook?” she asked. “What are we making? This is gonna be fun!”

  “First we should chop the pecans for the cake and get it out of the way,” said Shawn. “Peichi, can you help me?”

  “Okay. We can practice the knife skills we learned in cooking class,” said Peichi. She and Shawn watched each other as they each took a handful of the nuts and carefully took turns chopping.

  “This is pretty easy,” said Shawn. She finished chopping through her nuts, then chopped through them once more to make smaller pieces.

  “Natasha and I could start the baked beans,” said Amanda.

  “Sniff!” joked Molly. “Does that mean I’ll have to peel all these potatoes for the potato salad? Somebody grab a peeler and help me.” She pulled open a drawer and brought out two potato peelers.

  “I’ll help you,” offered Natasha, taking one of the peelers. “Then I’ll help you, Amanda.”

  “Oops,” said Molly. “I almost forgot, I need to put the water on to boil first.”

  Matthew and Ben came running into the house. Their feet stomped all the way down the hall to the kitchen.

  “Whatcha making?” asked Matthew.

  “Yeah, whatcha making?” echoed Ben.

  “Chocolate cake, potato salad, and baked beans,” replied Amanda, not looking up from her work.

  “Beans, beans, they’re good for your heart, the more ya eat, the more ya—”

  “Oh, you’re so funny,” interrupted Molly. “Why don’t you go annoy someone your own size?”

  The girls laughed.

  “C’on Ben, let’s go look at your bug collection.” Matthew and Ben ran back down the hall and slammed the front door.

  “Hey,” said Peichi as she cracked an egg into a big green mixing bowl. “Does anyone want to see a movie tonight? Oh, rats! I got a piece of shell in the bowl. I always do that.”

  “We can’,” said Amanda, pouting. “We’re broke.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Natasha.

  “My parents just raised my allowance,” stated Peichi. “Finally! But I still never have any money!” Everyone laughed.

  “My dad always says, ‘When I was your age, my parents gave me only a few dollars to mow the lawn,’” said Shawn, rolling her eyes.

  “Yeah,” said Molly. “Our dad says stuff like that, too. But then I always say, ‘Yeah, but you could get a CD for, like, a quarter back then!’”

  “They didn’t have CDs way back then, Molly,” chuckled Shawn. “They called them albums.”

  “Or records,” added Amanda. “We have all of Mom’s in the basement. They’re from the 1970s and ’80s. Bands had such goofy names back then. Like Bananarama!

  “And Adam Ant!” cried Molly. “Amanda! Let’s show them the pogo dance! Our mom really used to do this to music!” She started jumping straight up and down.

  Thump! The big bag of potatoes fell off the countertop and on to the floor. Potatoes went in all directions. Kitty scrambled out of the kitchen with the potato rolling after her.

  “Aaaagh!” cried Molly. “It’s the attack of the killer potatoes!” She scrambled to pick them up.

  “Settle down, Molls,” ordered Amanda. “We don’t have much time to do everything.” She was reading one of Mom’s recipes that she’d brought to the store this morning. “Molly, I’m making Mom’s vegetarian baked beans recipe.

  “But I don’t like that recipe,” said Molly, wrinkling her nose. “You need to put bacon in baked beans. Or ham.”

  “I’ve never had vegetarian baked beans,” commented Shawn, as she carefully measured flour, spoonful by spoonful, into a measuring cup.

  “Mom made them last summer when our Uncle Roy came over,” said Amanda. “He’s a vegetarian, and he liked them. I liked them. We’ll have enough meat at this cookout, anyway! Okay...first I have to wash the beans.” She emptied a package of dried navy beans into a colander and washed them. Then she put them in a large pot and covered them with water.

  Molly and Natasha finally finished peeling the red new potatoes. “Good! That’s done,” said Molly.

  “Now what?” asked Natasha. “Do you have a recipe?”

  “Mom uses one from this cookbook,” replied Molly, taking a heavy cookbook down from a shelf.

  “You have a million cookbooks,” said Natasha, looking at the shelf.

  “Yeah, Mom loves to buy them,” said Molly. “She cooks a lot on the weekends. Until lately, that is. She got really busy, and she and my dad started bringing take-out food home, like, every night! So Amanda and I cooked this big gourmet dinner one night. We’d never really cooked before, but somehow we pulled it off without poisoning anyone. And then right after that, we started taking the cooking classes.”

  “Can I look at a few of these cookbooks?” asked Natasha.

  “Sure!” replied Molly. “Meanwhile, I’ll find the recipe that Mom always uses.” She turned to the index.

  Natasha sat down at the kitchen table and began to thumb through a cookbook with lots of photographs. “Look,” she said to Molly. “Here’s a potato salad recipe that also tells you how to make fresh mayonnaise for it.”

  Molly leaned over the page. “I wonder if we could make this,” she said, scanning the recipe.

  “It doesn’t look so hard,” said Natasha. “Do you have cay—cayenne? What is that?”

  “I don’t know,” Molly said. We do have eggs, lemon juice, olive oil...let me check Mom’s spice rack to see if we have dried mustard.” She opened a cabinet. “Tarragon, pap—paprika...I don’t know how to pronounce some of these spices...hey, here’s cayenne. I see—it’s red pepper. Oh, and we have dry mustard, too. Wow, this looks old.” She handed it to Natasha.

  “It’s probably okay,” said Natasha, inspecting the little tin. “Great! We can make our own mayonnaise, if you want to.”

  Amanda walked over to take a look at the recipe. “It uses raw egg,” she said. “Isn’t that unsafe?”

  Natasha frowned. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Sometimes raw eggs have bacteria in them—”

  “Right! That nasty salmonella, exclaimed Molly.

  “Maybe we should just use regular mayo from a jar,” suggested Natasha. “We don’t want people to get sick at your mom’s party!”

  “Okay,” said Molly. “But we could still put the cayenne pepper into the mayo. Now, let’s cut the potatoes into small pieces, and then we can cook them...this recipe says to cook them for about fifteen minutes.”

  “And while the potatoes are cooking, we’ll chop the onions and herbs,” said Natasha, checking the recipe. “Oops! Amanda, I forgot I was going to help you after I peeled the potatoes.”

  “That’s okay,” Amanda assured Natasha as she eyed the recipe. “This is really easy. I just nee
d to cut up the onions.” She began to quarter the onions that she would add to the beans.

  “Oh, I’m crying,” said Amanda. The powerful smell from the raw onion was making tears run down her cheeks. Everyone began to laugh.

  “Don’t cry, Amanda!” joked Peichi. “Your mom’s party is gonna be perfect!” She and Shawn were melting unsweetened cocoa with water, margarine, and shortening.

  “Why do we need shortening and margarine?” complained Peichi. “This recipe has a ton of sugar and fat in it!”

  “I know”, said Shawn. She giggled. “But I guess that’s what makes it so good!”

  “Well, anyway, it’s not like we eat it every day,” said Peichi with a shrug. “Okay, now we have to get a hot pad and pour this melted chocolate over the flour and sugar mixture.”

  Making the potato salad was easy once the girls had peeled and chopped the potatoes, chopped the onion, and minced the herbs. All Molly and Natasha needed to do after the potatoes were cooked was drain them in a colander, rinse them in cold water, and drain them again. Then they tossed the potatoes with the onion, parsley, and some chopped fresh basil that the girls found in the fridge and decided to throw in. Then it was time to add the mayonnaise. It made the potatoes tangy and creamy. Molly tasted them.

  “They need salt and pepper,” she said. “That’s all.” She shook some salt and pepper over the mixture, then took out a clean spoon and handed it to Natasha. “Now you try it,” she said. “Do you think it needs anything?”

  “Mmm,” said Natasha. She smiled at Molly. “It’s perfect. All we have to do is cover it with plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator! Oooh, I can smell that melted chocolate. Yum!”

  “As soon as the cake comes out, I have to put the beans in,” said Amanda. She’d drained the beans in a colander and mixed them with mustard and molasses. “What a weird combination,” said Amanda. “But it tastes good in the end.” She added the onion, canned chopped and peeled tomatoes, and butter. Now the beans were ready to bake! “I hope these beans bake fast,” muttered Amanda to herself. “I don’t really have three hours.”