By Firelight
Chapter Notes
Behold the Gay Disaster in the wild! :D
I love Alex forever and ever, amen.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Alex's POV
After having a mental meltdown for a few long moments, I zap a message off to Kara, who
thankfully,
agrees to help me out. A minute later she trots out of Brainy's barn, the second floor of which is
currently her studio. I back the truck up to minimize how long she has to be out in the rain and she
hops in. "Hey you. How's the visitors? You vanished pretty quick with them."
Kara's teasing is both better and worse. She's thankfully incapable of Lucy's admittedly hilarious
sleaze, but Kara also knows how to get under my skin better.
"Well, yeah, we should keep them occupied."
My dissembling doesn't fool Kara for a second, her expression somehow both skeptical and smug.
Lucky for me, there's a task to be done and that takes over. We take both tractors to the warehouse,
each armed with pallet forks on their front buckets and the Deere hauling the larger trailer.
Once the trailer is in position, I use the big Kubota to pick up the slabs and Kara helps stabilize
wood and trailer both with the John Deere. We're all good at this sort of collaboration now after so
many months of practice. Then it's ratchet straps on the wood and back to the barn to unload it.
Unfortunately, the trailer won't fit into my shop, bonking alarmingly into the wood-fired cookstove
and getting Kara yelling at me. So we're forced to unload the boards by hand. Even when the
others come to help, it's an exhausting chore that eats up most of the afternoon. The wood has to
acclimate to warmer, dryer conditions or I'd have just left the damn stuff on the trailer.
At least the rain stopped. Which reminds me. Shaking off the strain and tiredness of the nowfinished
task, I thank the others as they scatter back to what they had been doing before, then grin
at Nia. "I'm pretty sure I'm on the docket for dinner help today. Think we can manage a cookout?"
"Actually, that's a great idea. Four extra mouths have me all discombobulated!"
I easily agree to go nose through the garden to see if we've missed anything edible while Nia heads
for the clubhouse. A quick stop in the barn has me grabbing a couple of buckets from the stacks of
them we've hoarded all year. One important lesson we all learned early on is never underestimate
the sheer usefulness of a five gallon bucket around the farm.
In honor of our guests, I search the last few rows of sweet corn and strip every cob I find before
stomping the plant to the ground. I'll collect them in the morning to toss to the pigs along with the
bits left from our dinner. It's quite a haul, overfilling one bucket and leaving the other for random
squashes and beans found among the dying plants. I even score a sneaky green-skinned pumpkin
hiding in the zucchini plants that nothing but a really hard frost seems to faze.
Lopping off the heads from a couple of the remaining mammoth sunflowers, I tuck them under my
arms and grab my booty to head in. Luckily, experience has shown that I can help prep meals
without incident. It's just the actual cooking that I'm cursed at. Seriously, it's bizarre. No matter
how I've tried, liquid boils over or cooks off freakishly fast, things burn, often spectacularly so, and
I've even ruined appliances with a touch. But I'm allowed to wash and cut and group ingredients.
Just keep me away from the stove or other heat sources. Except over open fire in the outdoors. No,
I have no idea why, but grilling is a random skill I seem to have a knack for, go figure. And it gives
Nia a break from feeding us all the time. Besides, we love the camaraderie of being clustered
around our beloved fire-pit.
I peel open the corn cobs only enough to check their conditions, chucking the gross ones into the
green trashcan that goes out to the pigs and chickens. Pretty much anything that isn't fatty bits of
meat, raw alliums or citrus peels goes out to them. Handy beasties, and so tasty!
With so many hungry mouths to feed -and we're all big eaters here- Nia always has plenty thawed
and ready to go. She's even remembered to pull out extra from the freezers in preparation for the
guests we thought we'd have for tomorrow. Some of it is still a little crunchy, so I pull out what can
be cooked immediately, but it won't be enough. Then I spot something down at the bottom of the
huge fridge and give it a poke. Yep, soft. And I know that shape.
"Hey, sis? You got plans for this fish?"
"I did, but it would be nice in the coals."
"Shit! I need to get the fire started!"
"Relax, Brainy's on it. Oh, there's some ribs and a roast in the other fridge if we want to tuck those
in around the coals to cook in prep for other meals."
"Done!"
With enough protein for three meals, I hunt down bowls of veg and get to work. First is the long
cook stuff, encased in cast iron or wrapped snugly in foil, which I run out to Brainy to watch over.
We place the packages around the edges of the greatly expanded pit where they'll start soaking up
the heat. As I turn to head back into the clubhouse, I catch sight of the ubiquitous tripod near him,
camera lens flickering in the gathering dimness.
I need to ask Sam and Lena how they feel about those.
Aluminum foil is one of those necessary evils that can't be recycled, though I've had everyone
saving the stuff in a few steel drums that are getting rank, frankly. I want to see if I can melt it
down and cast it into something useful. Cans too, which we've left in a pile for the bees to clean
out. Though there's more ants than bees now. Time to get on that melting!
Getting lost in the rhythm of slicing and sorting and wrapping, I let time fade away. A lot of this
good food came from our fumbling efforts this year, and next year will be so much better! Much of
the rest of it has been gleaned from locals or the trips to farmer's stands and markets. Carol
wanders in and immediately sits herself down across the table from me and helps out. Another
thing to love about how we've all come to live here.
Proteins and vegetables done, I wash up while Carol runs out the next set of longer-cook items.
Pretty soon the horde will descend and I want to get some proper desserts ready as well. After all,
our guests are on vacation! A little spoiling is in order.
"You weren't kidding about cleaning me out. There's only twelve of us and one is very small."
Nia's teasing flusters me and I can't even get a response formulated when one of the sets of double
glass doors on the east end of the clubhouse opens to let in said guests.
"Now here I thought you were hapless in the kitchen," Lena teases and that smile should be illegal.
Combined with an echoed smirk on Sam's face and I'm left stupid again.
"Oh, she is," Nia teases back. "And Kara is just as bad. Luckily, it's only the actual cooking part.
Prep work is safe enough and grilling seems to ignore the cooking curse, so we keep them on that
duty in order to keep the kitchen from burning down. We built the outdoor kitchen half-specifically
for that."
Nia takes her job of little sister #2 very seriously, lucky me.
"There's an outdoor kitchen?" Sam and her family are clearly intrigued, but Nia jumps in before I
can.
"Oh, did you miss that? Alex, what sort of tour guide are you anyway?"
At last a chance to defend myself. "One that got distracted by lunch!"
"Excuses, excuses. If the weather had stayed wet, we'd have gone out there, but it would have been
crowded and a bonfire is always more fun!"
With the newest round of 'let's tease Alex' done, Nia grabs up what she can carry and puts the
newcomers to work doing the same. They've got that in hand, even Lily proudly gripping the
pumpkin to her chest. To make them more comfortable, I dig around and find a stack of ratty
blankets and even a heavy utilitarian rug like the sort meant to wipe your feet on.
Outside, Brainy has a nice bonfire going, carefully feeding in construction scraps and split logs.
Team New York seems at a loss of what to do, jumping a bit when I approach.
"Hey guys. You can leave your goodies on the table there for Nia, and Lily, why don't you bring
that pumpkin to the fire pit and I'll show all of you what we're doing?"
The first piles of coals have been shoveled out from the round end of the keyhole-shaped fire pit a
viewer had suggested. Kara is carefully fishing out more from the bonfire, characteristically
seeming to be unaware of the heat so close by. Honestly, I swear that girl barely feels cold or heat.
It's freaky.
Even with the basic explanations, my telling Lily to plunk her pumpkin right into the coals gets
big, startled eyes.
"But won't it burn?"
"Nope. Watch what Kara does."
The pumpkin rolls and hisses irritably in the glowing coals and Kara expertly wields two metal
pushers with their flattened ends at ninety degree angles from each other. In moments, the squash
is set upright and has a ring of heat around it for even cooking.
"See, fire cooks fast and can burn food easily, but coals work like an oven, slow and steady. Kara is
really good at keeping temperatures and I'm good at knowing when the food is just right."
And that's my cue to direct the hot moms to the mound of warms I dragged out for them and get to
work. I found a minute to change for the task, a thin t-shirt under a thick vest and a lighter weight
coat. Inside fifteen minutes I'm sleeveless and the vest is open completely. I love doing this,
delighted to have found a niche where I can actually help feed my chaotic little family. Brainy is as
skilled as any nurse in assisting me at the myriad tasks while Kara keeps up the steady progression
of spent flame rendered to glowing heat.
The damn salmon takes up an annoying amount of real estate, but Maria is once again the most
astute of our numbers and has dragged out the grate from their little backyard grill to toss down to
increase the cooking room. From the two grates and a little collection of cast iron, comes piles of
classic picnic fare: thick chili, mountains of roasted veggies, even a handful of tortillas warmed and
browned to perfection, if I don't say so myself. Big bowls and trays contain the bounty at the
closest table and the twelve of us are a big, noisy crowd of food and laughter.
It's delightful to see that Ruby and Monica seem to have hit it off, sticking close to Lily, who is
more interested in her dinner than them. There's a hilarious byplay of childish indignation when
Sam keeps stealing little bits from her plate, clearly a familiar game between them. Lena barely
seems to notice when Sam does the same to her. Ruby just stays out of reach.
"This is so much food," the teen marvels. "It's like being at school!"
"Boarding school, huh?" Lucy chimes in knowingly and Ruby nods. "Yeah, I remember those days.
We always cook way too much on these outdoor nights. Makes for excellent leftovers and meal
starters."
Everyone is too stuffed for the potatoes rolled into the coals, though they provide some
entertainment in the visitor's horror over the spuds gone naked and foil-less.
"It's just a little ash," I laugh and stack them in an emptied pan for later. The pumpkin shrivels and
steams lightly and eventually Kara and I gather tools to carefully push and prod it into a steel bowl
to slowly half-collapse in on itself. I coax Lilly to try a little piece cut from it to marvel over the
flavor. She's been edging closer and closer, clearly curious, and I'm completely charmed.
Besides, she's an excellent distraction from her very sexy moms sitting very close by looking very
cozy and, well, sexy, in their blanket nest and bathed in firelight. We've all been sitting around
chilling or chatting comfortably and I'm having a harder time keeping my eyes to myself. They're
all still in my hand-me-downs and it's not helping. I need a distraction and now.
"Hey Kar?"
Kara stirs from her relaxed slump against one of the log benches to give me her attention.
"Think you can bust out the s'mores stash?"
The look of outraged offense on her face would normally be hilarious -I mean, it is hilarious, just
not as much- but I'm not out to steal her snackies this time. An overly-exaggerated head tilt at the
kid broadcasts what I'm after and that's enough to send my sister scrambling. That leaves me to
poke a perfect bed of coals into shape.
"Okay!" my perky tone garners attention."Now comes the best part of a campfire! Roasting
marshmallows!"
I did not at all expect the way Lily's face falls.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"I'm not good at making them. The marshmallows always burn."
Okay, Alexandra, time to find out if you're good with kids after all. Gently tapping Lily's downcast
chin, I smile warmly. "That's because it's a learned skill just like anything else, and just needs a
little practice. Ah good, here's the goodies now."
Kara didn't skimp, which actually surprises me. She's brought out the whole 'No Touchie' box of
treats and a handful of proper two-pronged skewers. She's also clinging to the damn box like a
lifeline.
"Kara's happy to share," I subtly harass my sulking sister as she envisions her chocolate stash
dwindling.
"No she's not," Lily giggles and my laughter is loud. Watching Lena's consternated expression and
Sam's literal facepalm over their sassy kid just makes it better.
"You're a kick, kid. Now come're and let's get you trained up on the art of marshmallow roasting."
With affectionately exasperated reassurances that her stash will be quickly topped up with a trip to
Costco we need to do before the weather turns anyway, Kara pokes marshmallows onto the
skewers and starts handing them to me. I didn't miss the way Sam perked up at the mention of
s'mores and immediately hand off the first one, to her surprise. Lily gets the second one and I keep
number three for training purposes.
"Okay, so here's how we do it."
There really is a trick to it and Lily listens attentively, her little face so serious it's adorable. Then
we hold out our marshmallows to the coals to be browned. Unfortunately, small child enthusiasm
has fluffy whiteness bursting into flames almost immediately. Oops, better spread those coals out a
bit more.
"Oh no!" Lily cries in distress and I automatically react to calm her. A gentle grip on her arm pulls
over the torch to be blown out.
"No problem! Me and Kara like 'em better a little more toasty. Strip it, sis!"
Pointing the skewer at Kara lets her pinch the crispy shell and peel it right off.
"Wow," Lily marvels and whether that's for the naked marshmallow or Kara's tossing the charred
mess in her mouth is anyone's guess.
"There we go. Now we have an official practice marshmallow and you know that a little flame is
no big."
To my shock, the burnt treat is a catalyst, Lily ducking under my arm to snuggle into my torso
between my knees. It reminds me of the cats and I'm every bit as warmed by the trust. So with my
arms wrapped around her, we can toast our treats together. The next flame up is mine, from a jostle
from Sam's skewer, that drops her mallow right into the coals. Lily laughs as I juggle hot sugar into
graham crackers and chocolate to eat too hot and too fast.
"Mmmm, yum!"
Swapping Lily for her shrunken marshmallow lets her try out patiently browning the treat while it
swells with the heat. Her excitement brings Ruby over to admire the work, the teen clearly at least
somewhat familiar with this fireside tradition. Blistered and crispy skin splits to ooze gooey
innards as the mallow is squashed between sweet crackers and squares of chocolate. Lily's face is
pure bliss as she crunches it up. By the way her taller mother is murdering marshmallows, I might
have to have more lessons, though she seems happy enough to gobble up the messes. God, she and
Kara are cut from the same damn cloth apparently; immune to hot sugar and the chilly night and
bottomless pits for food. Where is she putting it on that skinny, long-limbed frame?
Lena turns her nose up at Sam's char, but does accept a nice s'more from Ruby, delicately nibbling
at it. They're so different, true opposites attract. My continued distraction torches yet another
marshmallow and I'm pretty sure that stereo snicker of Lucy and Carol is aimed at me.
Sigh.
S'more number two is the signal for Lily's fading, her body growing heavy where she leans into
me. That immediately gets her moms activated, Sam handing off her skewer to a startled Lena so
that she can extricate herself from the blanket nest.
"Hey, baby, come here. You look tired," Sam coaxes and Lily grumbles in protest even as she
shambles from my embrace to her mother's. Sam wraps her up in long arms and the child turns to a
puddle all over her. I immediately miss the warmth. She's a neat kid. "Okay, as much as I hate to
cut the party short, this one needs sleep."
Team New York goes into a modified version of a clearly familiar routine. Ruby leaps over to grab
skewers and balances Lena as she climbs out of the blankets and shivers. Lily whines for her other
mother, oozing into Lena, who carries her off after smiling at the rest of us. "Thank you, everyone,
we had an excellent first day. Goodnight."
There's a smattering of the farewell returned as she vanishes up the short flight of steps that lead
back to the clubhouse and their RV. Ruby finds a home for the skewers in Monica's hands before
scampering off while Sam lingers for a moment to pile the blankets onto the bench. Oddly, she
pauses, looking off in the direction where her family has gone before she speaks in a musing tone.
"You know, I admit that when Lena and the kids wanted to do this, I was mostly humoring them,"
Sam says and turns a smile on me. "But now that I'm here, I'm really glad I came. Thank you,
Alex."
I can't formulate words and the heat on my face has nothing to do with the dwindled fire.
"All of you, seriously, thank you. See you tomorrow."
I can tell my smile borders on idiotic and I force out something that might be some manner of
'you're welcome' as she follows her family's retreat. Which makes me realize I better escape myself
or face the tractor-loads of teasing I'm doubtlessly in for. Grumbling my own goodnight, I escape
at a fast walk, ignoring the ripple of amusement in my wake.
Feeling very much the gay disaster I've been reduced to, I flee to my little house and do the obvious
thing. Call my oldest friend in the world to cry about it.
"'Sup, Al?" Sara answers warmly after only a few rings.
"Oh thank goddess you're basically married and boring now, so that I can catch you at home more
often!"
"Gee thanks."
Her sarcastic amusement does nothing to detract from her affection and is an anchor to me, making
my voice more vulnerable than I'd meant.
"Do you have a few minutes?"
"I always have time for you."
So I start to unload the day on her in a babbling rush, kicked off with, "so, the patron is early,
right? I'm in my shop and have no damn clue, radio on, havin' a grand ol' time! So then, I look over
to find possibly the most gorgeous woman I've ever laid eyes on, watching me dance like a
complete fucking baboon!"
"I'll take it as proof that any and all self-consciousness has been burned out of you by the flaming
torch of YouTube," Sara laughs uproariously.
"Ugh, right? Then, get this! My stupid ass just dances right over there like I'm Rico-fucking-Suave
and get her to dance with me!"
"Who hoo! Get it, Danvers!"
"It sounds better than it was, asshole. But, yeah, somehow I managed past the overflow of the
River of Gay Disaster, though I was terrified that I was gonna turn into a Goofy cartoon. 'Golly gee
wiz, ma'am, yer awful purty. Hyuck!'
The cartoon voice sends Sara into gales of laughter once more and just getting some of the insane
day worded out is helping.
"At least Lucy didn't witness it," Sara manages to gasp and my face screws up comically.
"Bite your damn tongue, Lance." Then more of the story pours out of me, frantic to be released.
"Then, then! She drags me off to meet her family, and before I can even get my brain rebooted,
there's another hottie assaulting me and it was instant Blue Screen of Death! Thank everything holy
for their cute kids that gave me something else to focus on."
"The power couple of your dreams, huh?"
"Shut up, you."
"Were they flirting with you? Man, I hope so, because this is great."
"Sara! They're married or at least might as well be! With kids!"
"So what? You've always wanted kids in a sort of ephemeral way."
"Oooo, big word," I snark sulkily and the silence on the other end is reminiscent of my mother's
disapproval and ironically, more effective. "Fine, yes."
"At least your motives are better than some. Passing on your knowledge, putting more into the
world than you take out. And, Alex, you've always had a lot of love to give." Sara's always been
good at reading my moods, even over a wireless connection nearly three hundred miles apart. Then
her tone goes teasing again. "Please tell me Brainy was filming! Pictures or it didn't happen!"
"Ugh, Sara," I mope petulantly, "the damn live camera was probably on and I'm quite sure Winn
has everything squirreled away to blackmail me with. The dancing was bad enough!"
"Excellent! So what else? Give the boring married lady the goods, stud."
Somehow putting words to all of it makes it both better and worse. Sure, I get some perspective,
but dear god some of it is painfully cringe worthy. It's been a hell of a day.
"Uuuuugh," I grouse and slouch further into my little couch to glare at the wood stove.
"Come on, beach rat, it sounds like a pretty good day in the end. What's really bothering you?"
The words don't come at first, just aggravated noises that make BP look at me like I'm nuts. Finally
I sit forward and cradle the phone in my worn hands, searching the dark face for an answer. Then I
thumb the screen and activate the speaker.
"I dunno, but they… matter, if that makes any sense? Like, that huge donation saved our asses, and
they show up with kids and they're nice as hell and freakin' hot and… I just dunno."
"Hey, chill. You're fine. Just be nice to the kids, have fun, and see if you can't throw a bridge
across the River Gay Disaster, okay?"
Suddenly exhausted after the outpouring of my chaotic day, I press the phone to my forehead and
fight down a little sniffle. "Okay. Love you, Sar."
"Love you too. Go sleep. Not-doctor's orders."
"'Kay. Night. Love to Aves too."
"I'll pass it on. Night."
I should shower, but fuck it. I need to change the sheets anyway. I'll get all that done tomorrow.
Stripping wearily to the knee length briefs I habitually wear under the Carhartts, I collapse into bed
and smile as my furry sidekicks curl up against hip and shoulder.
Despite the hardships, this is the life.