Annie LIX: Recipe

(Chronological index: Ray/Denise Married, Ruth known, NWO still future)

Pet sat crosslegged on the page and watched. Ray kneaded the dough, adding flour until it stopped sticking to his fingers.

She'd tried to help with this part. It looked fun. Squishing handfuls of dough and twisting and folding and getting very personal with it. It was about the only part of cooking she really thought she could participate in.

But the sticky stage was always her undoing. Ray (and Denise, before) never got dough past their wrists. Pet couldn't do this without getting it stuck to her head or face and nearly suffocating.

And though no one ever complained about getting very fine, very fair blonde hairs in their food, she knew it wasn't the best thing to serve.

So she sat and watched. And thought about working to help her owner's master clean up afterwards.

"What's next?" Ray asked, putting the bread down.

"A bubble bath," she said dreamily.

"After our experiment," he promised. She realized she'd spoken aloud and slapped her hands over her mouth. Then she realized that he'd heard, understood...and agreed.

She giggled and smiled up at her giant. And right now he was all hers. Denise was out of town on a hospital shopping trip. Annie had worked a three-way deal to host a sleepover with Ruth in her and Ray's old bedroom.

And Pet's ear infection, which had kept her grounded and out of the slumber party, had cleared completely during the day.

So Pet could have an evening alone with Denise's husband. She stretched a bit before his gaze, not quite accidentally offering him a profile of her breasts. He raised an eyebrow. She squirmed a bit as she smiled back up at him.

"Pet?"

"Yes, Ray?"

"What's the next step in the recipe?"

"EEP!" She had completely forgotten her duties towards dinner. Ray smiled as she frantically tried to find her place.

"Separate one egg-"

"Did that."

"Um, um, um, turn, uh, the bowl out onto a prepared surface-"

"Done that."

"Oh, yeah, uh, separate the dough into ten pisces."

"Pisces is a zodiac sign," he said gently. "Does it say pieces?"

"Yes," she said softly. She hadn't really been reading for very long. Her owners and Annie were careful to help her without teasing her too much. Or at all, really.

Still, she always felt like an idiot when she made such simple mistakes. Ray clicked his tongue as he split the lump into smaller ones.

"Pet? Has Annie ever described the world as 'Dog Eat Dog,' where you could hear her?"

"All the time," Pet replied.

"Do you understand the phrase?" He spread some flour over the pastry cloth.

"It means that everyone's out to get everyone else. No teams, no friends, no rules, no safety zones, no prisons, no jails, no detentions, just angry omnivores that'll eat your food, your clothes, your as- They'll eat you, too, if you don't watch out, ever diligent, never rest, don't even blink, trust no one, trust is weakness, pain is trust leaving the body through the stabby hole in your back."

She took a deep breath and waited. Ray froze like a mannequin and blinked as his brain parsed her data dump, then tried to reboot the conversation.

Giants often did that when she spoke. She imagined it was something about the sound of her voice having to climb all the way up there and climb into their brains through a base camp in their ears.

"Um...yeah. Okay. Well, I always thought the phrase was 'it's a doggie dog world.'"

"Puppies!" Pet shouted. "Lots and lots of puppies!"

"Yes, but in context..." He let her think it through. She imagined the last time she seen Annie point to something on the TV and say it.

Bankers foreclosing on people around the country and... It's a doggie dog world?

"That makes no sense," she said.

"I didn't actually admit that to anyone until I was 16," Ray said. "Annie said it, I said it didn't make sense and-"

Pet imagined Annie assuming her Lecture Stance to explain, in great derisive detail, the facts of life to her hopelessly dim-witted Master.

Peals of laughter burst out of her. She laughed so hard she fell over onto her backside.

"So, yeah," he said. "Basic reading errors are nothing to be ashamed of." She was still laughing, laying across the text of the recipe.

He put one finger down to brush her aside and read the next step.

"NO!" she squealed. "It's my job!" She rolled to hands and knees and read the next step. "Using a rolling pin, roll each PIECE," she emphasized. He laughed. She flashed him a smile then finished the sentence.

"Um... Roll each piece to the width of one sylph."

"Okay," he said.

"SYLPH!" she shouted. "It says one SYLPH wide!"

"It's a sylph-friendly cookbook," he pointed out.

"I know but...."

"I need you over here, Pet."

She started to step from the cookbook to the pastry cloth. Then she retreated to the photo and took her clothes off.

The flour felt weird between her bare toes but she knew it would dust off more easily than wash out of her shorts.

Ray had rolled out a piece of dough. She carefully knelt down on it, then lay flat.

"Oh, perfect," he judged. There was a friendly pat on her butt and she was sent back to the cooking instructions. Other pieces were rolled out to match the one she'd verified.

Pet sat on the edge of the cookbook and brushed off flour.

"Why does it say one sylph wide, Ray?"

"Oh, partly to get the sylph involved in the cooking so she and the owner bond. Partly because it reminds the owner that they're cooking for them and the sylph. Partly because Deliah has a weird sense of humor."

"Deliah?" Pet asked, one foot poised over her shorts.

"It's the Portion Control Cookbook," he said with a shrug. He said calmly. He said as if it didn't matter.

"Deliah?" Pet asked, one foot still poised over her shorts.

"Yes, Pet," he said. "An autographed copy that Denise brought back from her purchasing trip last month."

He stacked the rolled dough on a plastic plate, separated by wax paper. "My loving wife bought me a cookbook written by a former lover of mine and gave it to me."

She watched as me moved the rounds to the counter by the oven and turned on the heat under the frying pan.

Ray added oil and waited for it to heat up.

"Why would she do that, Ray?" Pet finally asked. Ray reached over and lifted her up to his face. He centered her own face on his dominant eye. She found herself looking deep into his soul.

"Because she trusts me implicitly," Ray said. "She knows that she is one of the three women I care most about on the planet, and would never do anything to hurt her."

Pet blushed deeply. Her idle fantasy of somehow getting closer to the one man in her life shattered like glass under that honest gaze.

He loved her, she knew that, but not like a boyfriend.

And she loved Denise, with all her heart, and would never hurt the big woman either. Or Annie, who may or may not have taken the other sylph as competition.

She made motions towards the cookbook and he put her down. "Um.... Gently lower the rounds into the oil and cook for ten...twen... twin... Twenty seconds. Flip with a slotted spoon and..." She sniffled. "And twinty seconds more."

"Okay," he nodded. The first piece went in. His lips moved as he counted out the seconds.

The round was big and puffy when he put it on the tray. He lifted her to his pocket so she could watch him cook the rest.

When they were done, he buttered each and sprinkled cinnamon sugar over them.

Pet got the first bite. He watched her closely for her reaction and she played it for all she could.

She nibbled a bit, crunching through the browned dough, letting the sugar crystals drop to dot her t-shirt.

Head tilted first to one side, then the other, her eyes rolled heavenwards and she chewed and chewed and chewed. She considered and she thought and Ray stared and waited with growing impatience.

"Okay," she finally said. "It's good in that it's crunchy and sweet and there's the salt that makes the sweet that much more powerful but the cinnamon is too much in that it tastes like cinnamon and I don't like cinnamon, not that strongly, anyway, because it's the flavor you get when the cook decides not to use chocolate-"

He snorted and picked up another fried round to try for himself. "But the texture is good," she went on. "The puffy bits between the layers are thin enough that a sylph doesn't have to worry that her jaw muscles'll give out before she makes it all the way through, and the thicker layers are softer, sort of like a tortilla, the soft ones, not the crunchy ones, so you can get through them in two bites and it's tastier than the crunchy parts but the crunchy parts are more fun."

She took another bite.

"So you like them?"

"MmmHMM!"

"Will Annie like them?"

Oh. He was making these for Annie. She was the test case board. She shrugged. Annie got everything Ray did, unless it was for Denise. Or for everybody.

"Yeah," she finally said. "Yeah, Annie will accept these as sufficiently proper for her royal self."

She bit off another piece as he made a note on the recipe. She listlessly stood to see what it said. He'd written 'Pet's' over the name of the recipe. He also changed 'one sylph wide' to 'one Pet wide.'

"Okay," he said, "when you feel like sharing your treats with Annie or Buttercup or Denise, let me know."

"Really?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah. Figure you were a big help, we'll dedicate these to you." He held out a hand. She stepped carefully into it. "Let's go send Deliah an E-mail, tell her the first recipe we tried."

"I... I don't know what to say to her!" Pet protested.

"Tell her how much you liked it," he said. "I promise, she'll enjoy hearing that."

She wasn't sure how she felt. Bothering someone as important as the head chef at the Sylph Center? Just from an airheaded little sylph in the same house as a boy she used to...know?

But Ray seemed to think it was okay. And Denise trusted him since the day they met and she tried to die herself on the food court floor.

"Okay," she finally said. He had called up the website for the Center and found the Kitchen in-box. "Well, it was..."

She looked on the screen. He was typing away at a headlong pace. "It's good and crunchy and sweet," he typed. "and the salt it sweeter."

"That's what I said!" she thrilled. He remembered! Almost word for word! She loved it when the giants paid attention. But maybe too much attention?

"I don't like cinnamon," he was typing.

"Oh, don't tell her that!" she protested, spinning to face him. His eyes were on the screen but he nodded towards it.

"...but that's personal taste, nothing against your recipe."

She reminded herself once more to trust Annie's revered Master. Even if he'd forgotten..

"And once I hit send," he promised, "we'll see about that bubble bath for you." She sighed and leaned back against the keyboard. And sighed once more.

He asked her to read his transcription of her first review. While she worked her way through it, he went and got himself a drink.

She was pretty sure he wasn't thirsty, but wanted to give her plenty of time without feeling pressured. And while she knew that life with Annie had taught Ray not to mutter thoughts out loud, he kept a running commentary of what he was doing.

So she smiled as she heard him sort through the ice tray for the most bestest ice cubes. Why some ice cubes displeased him and how he had to get the perfect cup and, good heavens, the sink needed emptying.

She tried not to giggle and kept her attention on the letter.

He had captured her pleasure without much of her...ditziness, Annie would say. There were periods and everything.

And she approved of the fact he entered Denise's name for a carbonic copy. She had accepted that her owner wouldn't be jealous but it was nice to see his confidence in the fact.

Pet ran all the way through the letter. Ray hadn't used any words she didn't know. Well, he was quoting her. But anyway, nothing spelled out defeated her.

Still, she felt a need to make sure Ray felt wanted. "Ray!" When he was in the room she pointed to the screen. "You misspelled tortilla. There's no L in tortilla."

He raised an eyebrow and sat down. "Pet? Do you remember laughing on a shopping trip? You thought the store had screwed up because the tore tie las were on sale?"

Oops. "Um......no?" she said/asked softly in her best dumb blonde voice.

Ray stared at her, but not long enough for her to feel too terribly guilty. He just shook his head. "It's okay, Pet, it's the way the word is spelled."

"Okay," she nodded. "Thanks. It's a good letter, Ray. I'd be happy to sign my name to it."

He tapped and she spun. "By Ray at the direction of Pet Foster," she read aloud. "Sounds like I'm in charge of you."

"For right now," he said, "you are."

"Then I command thee to hit send," she said.

"You've been working on your Annie voice," he replied. A finger poised over a key. "Unless you'd rather do it?"

"Oh! Yeah!" She scurried around to the button he was pointing at and knelt on the keyboard. The button offered a little resistance, but she put both hands on it and pumped like she was giving CPR.

And it was done. Somewhere, Deliah was reading her review.

"Cool," she said. He nodded. Was he still under her command? "And now, revered servant, I demand that you run me a bath. A bubble bath. In the tub, this time."

His eyes went wide. "Yes, in-DEED, milady." He offered cupped hands and she deigned to rest her tiny behind upon them.

In the bathroom, he lowered her to the sylph sink and addressed the bathtub.

The tub was usually a special treat for sylphs, giving them room to play around in the water. It was a bit much for a single sylph performing her solo toilet.

But as she watched Ray put extra bubble stuff in the water, she realized he'd figured her out. She wanted to build bubble castles.

Mostly because it extended the time he'd be playing with her.

She started to take off her clothes. "Wouldst milady desire assistance with that?" Ray asked.

"Oh, baby!" she cooed. "I mean....Um, it is meeting our approval that you should assist, kindly." He ducked his head and carefully peeled her out of her clothes.

Then he lowered her into the bath. A huge soap glacier rose before her. "Right," she muttered. "We're going to need a rampart...."

--------

Pet was exhausted by the time the last high tower collapsed. Ray dunked her in his cupped hands and let the rinse water flow through his fingers.

She lay flat and compliant as he pat her dry and slipped her into her pajamas.

She stayed in his grip as they called Denise to wish her a good night. She described their day and he described the sylph.

"She's in her footsie pajamas, smelling of bubble bath, and she won't open her eyes more than halfway. Oh, now she's sticking her tongue out at me. Yeah, I got her nice and tired so she'll sleep without her favorite owner being close."

She snuggled in under his thumb as he went on to make husband/wife talk. The owners' relationship always made her feel secure and happy. Annie had her own view of the smoochy-voice effect: however sappy, it's sincere and a real stability in the changing fortunes of an inconsiderate universe.

Pet just knew she melted at the sound of either owner's voice when they talked to the other.

Ray finally hung up but didn't move. He checked the time and called his folks' house.

He twisted the earpiece a bit away from his ear when Ruth answered. "Hi," Pet heard. "You've reached the Foster House. If this is Ray, which caller ID indicates, I've been directed by counsel to say shut up your face and go to bed."

"Does counsel want to say goodnight to her partner in crime?"

Pet heard Ruth's clothes rustle and could imagine the flinch as Annie started climbing up from her pocket.

"Of course!" the sylph shouted in the mouthpiece. "G'night, Pet!"

"G'night, Annie. G'night, Ruth."

"G'night, Pet," Ruth replied.

"Good night, John Boy," Ray said. Utter silence followed. "You see, there was this show-"

"We know," Annie's voice said, loud and clear. "We just didn't find it funny."

Ray hung up before Pet could fully describe the look on his face for her roommate's benefit. "That's okay," she said. "I'm sure Annie can imagine it."

He snarled and carried her upstairs. She felt him pause at the side of the bed. Before she could ask what was going on, he slid the sylph drawer shut and lowered her onto a pillow.

Denny's pillow. She stretched across the fabric and breathed in her owner's smell. Giant fingers gently wrapped her in her microfiber blanket. She sighed and snuggled into a little cocoon.

The pillow tipped a bit as Ray got into bed. Then a bit more as he lay an arm along the edge just below her feet.

Then she was asleep.



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