Kitchen Magic 2

Before we learn who is watching Bizzy from the dark kitchen windows, I have a meme to do.

Katherine from Smoky Mountain Kitchen tagged me to reveal seven things about myself. The rules are that you link to who tagged you and tag seven others to do the same. Thanks Katherine!

I'll let ya'll pick which seven of you get tagged! Sort it out amongst yourselves. No fighting now!

Seven random things about me:

1) I workout six days a week. I'm pretty obsessive.

2) If the temperature drops below 80, my hands start cracking and peeling. That's what I get for living in a cactus infested hot zone.

3) I still pretend I'm a mermaid when I go swimming. I like to go under water and swim like a dolphin, twirling through all the small children and intertubes filled with old ladies.

4) My favorite Christmas movie is A Muppet Christmas Carol. I watch it several times every year.

5) If I ever get rich, I'm going to have someone build me a Duck-a-tron. Kind of like a big Duck Transformer. I could ride in it while it climbed over cars and highways on the way to work, quacking to everyone and swatting planes down. Or, it could just fly me in the Duck Express so I could get to work in five minutes. Plus, it could have a gym in it so I could shoot missiles at people while I ran on the treadmill. And of course, there would always be fresh cookies and waffles, bacon cheeseburgers and barbecue on hand. Because calories don't count in the Duck-a-tron.

6) In my mind, I look like a professional while dancing. In reality, I look like a crazed moron being electrocuted while having to pee and giggling wildly.

7) If my job in journalism doesn't work out, I'm going to go see if the cupcake shop down the street will hire me to do "PR" work for them. Of course, to do that, I'll have to taste the cupcakes. All of them. Several times. I like to be through.

And now, for Kitchen Magic part 2!

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Bizzy pulled her overnight bag from the back seat of the car and walked up to the rickety wooden porch. The porch shrieked in protest the second she stepped on it with her new boots, creaking the entire way to the door.

The two eyes blinked in glee. Their owner scuttled down from the window and hid, peering from the dark recesses of the kitchen. It wouldn't be long now.

Bizzy unlocked the door and stepped inside. "Hello?" she called, just in case. Mrs. Patterson was a dear woman, but she tended to be a bit forgetful. It wouldn't surprise Bizzy at all if she had half a dozen people staying at the cabin. After all, the woman did have days where she was convinced she was Shirley Temple. She even wore the ringlets and tap shoes to prove it.

No one answered. She looked around the cabin, taking in the worn wooden floors and faded leather furniture. Someone had put a lot of money into this place several decades ago. Now it looked like a rustic shoot from the pages of a fashion magazine. She half expected to see a model in some ridiculous outfit draped over the yellow piano keys or old stove.

The stove. Bizzy choked back the rush of fear and horror that came anytime she got near a kitchen. Setting her bag down, she crept towards the kitchen. Her boots clapped like thunder in the silence of the old house as she stepped onto the tile kitchen floor. A avocado green refrigerator and yellow stove greeted her. The sink was old, but clean and the cabinets looked like they had been recently updated. Otherwise, everything looked straight out of the 1960s. Even the toaster and blender looked like relics from an antique store.

"This is impossible," Bizzy muttered, shaking her head. "I can't do this." She leaned against the old wooden cabinets, biting her lip as she looked at the old equipment. Peering into one door, she saw olive green and orange flowered plates hiding under an inch of dust and cobwebs. A black spider scurried into a cup, annoyed at the disturbance. "I beg your pardon," she told the spider. Shaking her head, Bizzy felt tears spring to her eyes.

"I can't do this, she muttered, panic rising in her chest. "I've only got four days until Thanksgiving. I don't know how to cook, I don't have any food and I only have $100 to spend on this dinner." Looking at the stove, she tore her fingers through her hair. "And now because I'm the doormat of the world, I let Mrs. Patterson talk me into coming to a kitchen with dusty plates and a stove that the pioneers could have used. There's not even a dishwasher!"

With a final shake of her head, she whirled around and headed for her bag. "I'll have to call a restaurant and order a meal," she muttered to herself, slinging the bag over her shoulder. "I may have to take out of my savings for a house, but...." She trailed off as she heard a loud rustling. Whirling around, she crept back into the kitchen as she held her breath. If she saw a mouse or a rat, she was hopping in a car and driving so far away that not even Thanksgiving could find her. Not even her love for Mrs. Patterson could keep her in a house with a rodent. Biting her lip, she leaned her head through the kitchen doorway and gasped.

It was a completely different kitchen. Rich brown tile lay in front of her and the dingy walls now glowed with a soft yellow paint. A steel enormous refrigerator lay next to a brand new ceramic range with double ovens. The cabinets had been transformed to a frosted glass, with festive red plates winking through with thick white mugs. Even the sink was sleek, without a spot in the steel bowl below it.

"This is unreal," Bizzy whispered, staring before her. "This can't be happening."

"Oh, but it is," a cheerful voice behind her chirped. Her heart in her throat, Bizzy whirled around. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

To be continued....

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! We have a busy week coming up! First, we have the second part of Priscilla Piper and her unusual name. Then we have some whimsical tales, another Twirl and all sorts of tasty recipes coming up! Stay tuned!