Redemption (Sempre 2)

Chaos erupted as she dodged toward him, trying to pry the hose from his hands. They wrestled for it, shoving and grabbing, as water from the spray soaked both of them. Haven managed to wiggle past him and got her hand on the faucet, turning the water off as laughter erupted from her chest. “I can’t believe you. I’m soaked!”

“You started it.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You ignored me.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Same difference.”

Wiggling out of his grasp, she grabbed the bowl of stuffing and pushed it toward him. “Can you handle the rest?”

He considered her question. “As long as it doesn’t involve any fucking voodoo shit with chicken hearts.”

She laughed. “Forget about it.”

“No, tell me what to do. Just gimme a job that doesn’t deal with organs.”

“Or water,” she mumbled, looking around. “Can you, uh, chop vegetables?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” He smirked. He could work a knife, at least.

Haven pulled out some carrots, celery, potatoes, and onions, and she gave Carmine instructions, but all he heard was that he needed to cut them up.

They were vegetables—how hard could it be?

Haven shoved her mixture in the chicken, instructing Carmine to throw the vegetables in the pan with it. He chopped the celery and carrots with no problem but the potatoes were trickier because she didn’t tell him to peel them first.

Or did she? He hadn’t been listening.

Carmine got to the onion and eyed it suspiciously. Haven looked at him as he removed the skin, but she stopped him before he could cut into it.

“Do you want me to do that?” she asked. He shook his head and she reached past him, grabbing some vinegar and rubbing it on the cutting board. “Vinegar messes with the chemical process so it doesn’t burn as much.”

He raised his eyebrows curiously. “Jeopardy?”

“Just a trick I picked up along the way. Open flames help, too. I can get you a candle.”

“I don’t need a candle, Haven. I can handle an onion.”

She smiled but didn’t respond. Carmine took his knife, cutting the ends off of the onion before slicing it down the center. The moment it came apart, the gases hit Carmine and he blinked rapidly as his eyes started to burn.

Every cut seemed to intensify the sting. He squinted, his eyes welling with tears. It got so bad after a few minutes that his vision blurred, and he blinked to clear it, only succeeding in pushing the tears over the edge. He groaned and cut faster, turning his head to the side to brush the tears away with his arm. He lost focus, cutting blindly, and cursed as pain shot through his finger.

He dropped the knife and pulled his hand away in shock, seeing the spot of blood form. It was a small cut, barely anything at all, but the juices from the onion made it burn. He stuck his finger in his mouth as a natural reaction and cringed at the rusty onion taste.

Haven pulled his hands away from his face, frowning. “Are you okay?”

He nodded and she pulled him to the sink, placing his hands under a stream of cold water, washing his cut.

“Look at you, fixing me up,” he said. “When did we change places?”

“When you decided to try to cook.”

Carmine splashed some water on his face before turning off the faucet and grabbed a towel as he leaned back against the counter. He watched Haven as she finished cutting the onion, feeling inadequate when it didn’t seem to affect her. She preheated the oven and worked quickly, throwing together their food with ease.

Once she had it all in the pan, she turned to Carmine with a smile. “When the oven’s ready, can you put the chicken in? I need to go change.”

“Sure.”

He stood there for a minute after she left until a string of beeps sounded through the kitchen. Carmine grabbed the pan and stepped toward the stove, oblivious to the puddle of water on the floor. His foot skidded in it as he slipped, absentmindedly letting go of the pan as he caught himself. He managed to stay on his feet but the pan hit the floor, the chicken and vegetables scattering around the kitchen.