A shrill chime from the timer brought Sugar around from her vigil at the window. She sped up at the sound of the oven door opening. Bertie poked at the salmon as she entered the kitchen. He straightened and patted his chest, speeding a gas bubble along. “Hey,” he said. “You’re a better cook than the old dame next door. I almost want to eat it, it smells so good. Too bad I still feel like puking.”
Sugar blushed and folded her hands together. “Thank you. I just want to make Oscar happy. That’s my only goal.”
“Was that him screaming at the door?”
Sugar nodded and moved to the open oven. She could see that the salmon was ready. “I have to keep this warm,” she said, pulling the salmon out and setting it on the stove. “Oscar hates a cold dinner.”
“Never mind Oscar. You should eat this stuff while it’s still good. Oscar can have a bowl of cereal or something when he gets back.”
Sugar’s stomach gurgled its agreement but she shook her head. “You think he was mad about the garbage can? If I even dared to suggest such a thing, he’d—”
“Who said you were going to be the one? I’ll take this chump on.”
“I can’t…I can’t let you do that.” Sugar worked to get the salmon nicely placed on a serving platter, trimmed with its garnishes.
“No, no. Like I said before, all we need is for Wycliff to know I’m here and this is his house. We wait until he gets home and then we tell my boss.”
“Your boss?”
“Yeah, the one that reports to Wycliff, the one I do a few jobs for now and then. Word gets back to Wycliff and, the next thing you know, they’re breaking the door down and go after your old man. We’ll be long gone by then. You and me. What do you say?”
“I don’t know…” Sugar pulled down the plates, three at first, but then returned the third.
“Look,” Bertie pled. “I’m easy to please. I’d take your cooking any day, just like it is. Let you go any time you say. While we wait for your husband, I’ll go back over to the old lady’s house and get my things and some of her stew. Then we’ll get all set up. I’ll draw you a map of the alleys so you can slip out real fast with me before Wycliff gets here. Your old man won’t know what hit him. We’ll slip him some stew and then he’ll crash, just like I did. We’ll hit his wallet and anything else you have in the house. We’ll be golden.”
Sugar took up the large knife and began carving up the artisan bread that would go with the dinner.
