147 - Charred VS Burnt
*I love her, and I will always love her. There will never be anyone else that has a place in our hearts like Gertie had. - Karan*
Camille’s smile fell slightly, and she looked at them before quietly asking, “How’s Cookie?”
The laughter faded and the only sound in the backyard was that of the fires burning and crackling around them. Juices from the hot dogs fell to the hot wood and metal ring of the fire pit, sizzling and popping.
“He’s… he’s still grieving,” Athos finally said.
“It was a lot to lose in such a short period of time,” she whispered, and her friends agreed.
Porthos shifted in his chair and grabbed her hand to gently pull her over to him. She settled onto his lap and accepted the comfort that he offered. Laying her head on his chest, she smiled as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.
“Now I want you to know,” Porthos told her as he rested his chin on her head, “I love you. I really do. And you always have a special place in my heart. And I always love having you in my lap. But damn it girl it’s fucking hot.”
Laughing, Camille stood up and their legs made an odd almost slurping sound as her skin moved off his. She was in her new standard short pajama shorts and tank top, and he wore Army PT shorts and T-shirt. Tonight, she wore MIT themed pajamas in honor of her oldest child.
The other two were also in shorts and tank tops, which were not their usual. Bright white legs practically glowed in the darkness of the backyard. Farmer tans on their arms and neck were amplified by the flicker of the fire light.
All four cringed at the sound that their sweaty skin made as she stood up. Camille gave a small shudder and laughed at her own reaction.
“Oh, God,” Athos made a small gagging sound. “That was disgusting.”
As they laughed over the odd sound, the sadness of their friend was momentarily forgotten. Cookie’s family had suffered due to the Covid pandemic. His sister worked at the hospital, and they took in her three children to keep them safe. Her husband worked as a lineman for the local electric company. He had been diagnosed with an immuno-compromised disease a few years ago but believed that since it was well controlled, he would be safe.
Unfortunately, that was not true, and he passed away only a few weeks after Brute. After a brief battle with Covid that was exacerbated by her heart disease, Cookie’s mom passed away at home. Less than a week later, his sister passed away while at work.
Only a few months ago, his second wife told him that she did not feel well. Afraid of bringing anything upstairs to her family that lived in a large apartment above her bookstore, The Dragon’s Lair, she started sleeping in her office.
A week later, she was admitted into the same hospital that Cookie’s sister had worked at. Like so many others, she never came out on her own. She now permanently lies in the Ridgeview Memorial Park between her mother and husband.
Through a rushed process with the assistance of Celt’s family law firm, O’Malley, Tully and Birch, and an overwhelmed court system, Karan and Cookie had received full custody of niece and twin nephews. Their apartment that was big enough for three adults and a baby, suddenly became too small.
Camille knew that they also built a house on the Lowery family farm. Molly and his pretties understood that Cookie needed space to breathe. Utilities had already been laid in for what was supposed to be Priscilla’s dream house. At that time, they were being prepped for Camille and Darkness’ house.
Knowing that they had at least another year before they were moving home, they agreed that the next house needed to go to Cookie and Karan. Now that Cookie had his house and they were finishing up on Priscilla’s house, preparations were once again being made for Camille and Darkness’ house.
Sitting back down, she again looked at her friends, “How is the cul-de-sac coming?”
“Just waiting on you, now,” Athos grinned, putting the charred hot dogs into buns for himself and Aramis. “It’s going to be great to have everyone back home.” He gave a pointed look at Porthos, “When are you coming back?”
“Next year,” he assured his friends.
“Can we agree that no matter how gross you find my mayo on a hot dog, it does not touch their burnt ones? With no mayo or mustard or ketchup? Hell, even relish would be better than fucking burnt and dry.”
“There is no better way to eat a hot dog,” Aramis assured them.
“You burnt the damn thing worse than Camille burns a damned kitchen!” Porthos argued.
“I just want to clarify,” Camille said defending herself, “the fire department was only ever called on one kitchen, so therefore there was only ever one kitchen fire.”
“Keep telling yourself that!” Athos declared.
“Your sister is married to a firefighter, the department was already there,” Aramis pointed out.
He tossed the last bite of his hot dog over to Tink. The dog sniffed the burnt meat and nudged it out of the bun before eating the bread and leaving the meat.
“SEE?!?” Porthos pointed at the dog that moved away from the hot dog and lay down under Camille’s chair. “Even Tink is saying that your burnt ass meat is nasty.”
“It’s not burnt,” Athos argued as he also tossed the last of his hot dog towards the dog. “It’s charred.”
Porthos and Camille burst out laughing as the Tink moved to the far side of the chair and did not even eat the bread.
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