Easter Dinner
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The ham looked gorgeous. Just like his mom used to make. Dorian did a great job on it. It was colorfully coated in pineapple and glaze. Even the cloves were perfectly, evenly spaced.
John studied the note on the counter. Dorian was at a charity event at the station that John had begged out of in exchange for preparing for Easter dinner. Valerie and her obnoxiously good-looking chrome boyfriend, Sandra Maldonado and a mystery plus-one, and, for some reason, Richard Paul and his mother were all coming over. It was going to be the worst day ever and they had already had three fights over Dorian's growing guest list.
The note contained a list of things that needed to be accomplished. All of it scrawled in Dorian's perfect, Garamond font handwriting.
1. Put the ham in the oven at 325 degrees (the ham is in the fridge)
Well, duh. That was easy enough. John admired the ham a minute more then opened the oven and slid it inside. He poked at the buttons, getting the temperature to 325. Nothing seemed to be happening. He had to admit, he wasn't too familiar with this oven. He tried to start over by hitting the "clear" button. Miraculously, that seemed to turn it on.
He slapped his hands together in accomplishment and looked down the list.
2. Dust the main room
Next! John scratched that one off. He didn't give a shit if things looked a little lived-in.
3. Vacuum
He scratched that off, too. Did Dorian think he was some kind of Molly Maid?
4. Set the table
He looked at the dining table. Dorian had already put the leaves in and there was a linen table cloth folded and waiting. John sighed and unfurled the linen across the table so it settled more or less evenly, wondering why Dorian hadn't already done this. Then he set plates and silverware around. He'd seen nicer place settings, but this was good enough.
Sniffing at the air, John was surprised by how well he could already smell the ham.
5. Decorate
Okay, this was taking things too far. John found bags of pastel colored streamers and a few decorative trinkets in a bag on the coffee table. He put the candle sticks on the dinner table, dumped some plastic eggs into a bowl on the coffee table, and hid the streamers under the kitchen sink. Fucking ridiculous.
Everything else on the list was insulting:
6. Get ready for company
7. Put on something nice
8. Smile, John, this will be fun!
John crashed on the couch and turned on the television, watching a few minutes of The Ten Commandments which was probably playing on six different channels. That's where he fell asleep.
When John woke, his nose and eyes were burning. The air smelled absolutely horrible and seemed smoky and thick. Dorian was walking into the apartment with a shocked look on his face.
"What is going on, John?" he sounded panicked.
John coughed in response, rubbed at his eyes with his fist, and followed Dorian to the kitchen. A thin but consistent sheet of smoke was billowing from the oven. Dorian examined the touch screen and turned to John gravely. "Why, John! What, wh-wha-" Dorian was rarely at a loss for words and almost never stuttered but this situation was unique. He took a moment to formulate the right sentence. "John," his voice wavered unsteadily with forced patience, "why, why, why are you cleaning the oven with the ham inside?"
"What?" John coughed.
"The oven is cleaning itself."
"Wow!" John had the nerve to sound innocently impressed. "Oven's do that?"
Dorian tried to override the cleaning cycle but it was designed to stay on until it was complete. Inside, the ham was being burned into ash by the 1200 degree temperature. The smell was unbearable.
John's eyes were ringed in red from the noxious smoke as he tried to explain. "I thought it said clear," he groaned, "not clean."
"John," Dorian was trying not to lose his temper. "Reading is fundamental."
That Easter, while attempting not to comment on the strange burnt smells in the house, everyone huddled around the dinner table in their coats, shivering from the windows standing open so long, eating Easter pizza.