Grim Root by Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam

Author:Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Matter Magazine
Published: 2024-05-06T14:00:21+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sabrina

Sabrina had no clue what the activity of the day was supposed to be, only that Deja instructed the women at breakfast to wear clothes they didn’t mind getting dirty. When Sabrina entered the kitchen again that afternoon, she found a table full of random ingredients: eggs in a carton, flour in an unlabeled canister, a bag of grits, a softening stick of butter, and various fruits and vegetables. The three remaining women lined up as Tristan took his place in front of them. Tatum aimed a camera at him as Deja smoothed a few of his hairs away from his face.

“Where’s Brandon?” Sabrina whispered to Linda, hoping that Tristan would see them speaking and believe her redemption.

“Probably sleeping off the hangover.”

“No shit?” Sabrina said. “You see him last night?”

“Heard him, and saw him. He was fucking with Tatum in the yard.”

Deja turned to them and placed her hands on her hips. “Are we done gossiping?” She gestured to the table. “I thought we were here to win Tristan’s heart.”

Sabrina mimed zippering her mouth while Linda scowled and shut up.

“We’re go on three, Tatum.” Deja stepped out of the shot, then counted down.

On three, Tristan beamed. “Ladies, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. It’s the God’s honest truth. Today, we’re going to have a cooking competition! I want all y’all ladies to cook me your best brunch, and I’m a lucky bastard cause I’ll be eating all of them.”

Sabrina’s heart jumped. She was a good cook, but Marion was such a southern belle that there was no way she didn’t know her way around a kitchen. Sabrina glanced in her direction. Her skin had warmed again in color, no longer its sick sallow, but she seemed skinnier, weaker. Sabrina’s confidence rose.

“The winner gets to go on a picnic with me.” Brandon glanced to the lone window in the room. “And even though it’s sprinkling out there, we’ll make the most of it!”

As Tristan stepped back, Tatum turned his camera toward the women, who rushed forward to grab their ingredients.

“Is there a cookbook or something?” Linda said.

“There is not,” Tatum said, grinning on the sideline.

“Well, shit. I’m out.”

“Try, Linda.” Tristan sounded annoyed. Sabrina struggled to keep her lips from spreading into a smile. “Pretend to care.”

Linda grabbed a handful of fruit and got to chopping it.

Sabrina knew exactly what to make: biscuits, grits, sausage, and gravy. She eyed Marion, who was going for the eggs. She’d scramble them, or make an omelet. It was too easy to overcook an egg, and Sabrina had no idea how Tristan took his. Grits were easier to manage: the more butter, the better. For the biscuits, she poured her flour and baking powder into a bowl with some salt, cut in the butter, then stirred it all together with a splash of milk. She was careful not to over-knead as she rolled the dough out, then used a rocks glass to cut them into perfect circles. After she shoved them

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