Okay...this was begging to be written. It was kind of fun...amazing how quickly 30 minutes can go.
Dinner and it’s company had ended and disbanded several hours ago. I sat up in the dark room, startled and dismayed at the way my dreams had gone. Memo to self: do not eat chocolate and sparkling apple juice together before going to bed again – murdering my sister and her husband because they had taken away my puppy was too much to deal with a second time around.
My stomach growled and I glanced at the clock, shaking my head. It was after midnight, but I still had to finish the last piece of pie. There was no way I was going to let Jared get it first. A strange vision of the thick apple pie with it’s homemade crust had wafted through my dreams as well, tempting me with the thought I could actually smell it.
I threw back the covers and tip-toed down the hallway to the kitchen, not wanting to wake anyone else up in my scavenging for food. Mom had cooked enough food to feed the neighborhood just because we’d had guests. You would have thought we never fed my sister and her husband, but who was I to complain? I loved the leftovers. Although, tonight there didn’t seem to be much – just that lone piece of pie that was calling my name.
I opened the fridge and scouted out the pie tin in the back, behind the milk and juice. Grinning, I reached in and pulled it out. “Gotcha!”
Mom always thought putting stuff behind other things would discourage us kids from getting into it. Like we didn’t have the smarts to move stuff around or wouldn’t see past what was in front of it? Of course, since we always claimed we couldn’t find stuff that <i>was</i> right in front of us, she probably had every right to expect we didn’t have much in the way of brain cells or eye sight, but that was just our trick to getting out of what we’d been asked to do – like getting items out of the pantry, or finding clothes in the laundry room. We weren’t as dumb as we pretended to be.
I sat down on the bench by the counter, slipping my fingers around the chilled crust. The pie was cold enough that the apples with their sweet sauce would stay in the crust and not slosh all over my and the counter. Last thing I wanted was a mess to give myself away. So far, in the war of the brothers, I was the top contender in not giving myself away in the food snatching game. Jared had been caught twice – once in the vary act. We made sure he never forgot it either.
I heard a stealthy step in the hallway, and quickly pondered my options, swallowing the last of the pie and grabbing the empty tin. There was no way I was going to loose top spot in the ratings, I had to get out of there fast. I stuck the tin back in the fridge, thankful for the umpteenth time that I’d oiled the hinges on the fridge just last week. It never hurt to cover all ones bases... I was back in the hallway and silently moving along the wall before whoever it was entered the kitchen.
I listened intently for signs that someone was searching for food, wondering which brother it was. Jared had given up long ago – it could be Mike, he was always up for pie, or James – he was angry that he’d been given a smaller piece of roast at dinner. My musings were interrupted by the sound of someone muttering – just barely loud enough to hear.
Ah hah! I smiled and silently made my way back to my room, my twofold mission complete. I’d kept mom on her diet, just like she’d asked me to.