“Be careful,” said Lurvey. “You’ll break it.”
“I’ll break you.” She smashed down a skillet next to the pot and added oil, then turned on the burner.
“Maybe we could just eat out.”
“I will not waste money on a meal I can’t enjoy.” She hefted the pot again and filled it at the sink.
Lurvey smiled. “How beautiful you are! You are more beautiful in anger than in repose. I don’t ask you for your love; give me yourself and your hatred; give me yourself and that pretty rage; give me yourself and that enchanting scorn; it will be enough for me.”
“Gah! There! You’re doing it again!” Elizabeth slopped the pot back to the stove. “I can’t have a conversation with you, not a single exchange of ideas without a barrage of obscure English literature!”
“That was Dickens! How can you call Dickens obscure!”
Elizabeth stormed to the refrigerator and snatched out the carrots. She shoved them into Lurvey’s hands. “Here, you cut them. I don’t trust myself with a knife. All I asked was what you wanted for dinner!”
“Now good digestion wait on appetite and health on both.” Lurvey looked down at the carrots and then went for a peeler.
“Stop! Stop it!”
“I’m sorry, Lizzie! They just come to my mind unbidden…”
“That wasn’t a quotation!”
“I can’t even tell anymore. Just stop talking. Don’t say another word to me.” She went back to the fridge and took out some kind of meat. She threw it in the skillet, and hot oil splashed up with a sizzle. “Ow!” She thrust her hand in her mouth.
Lurvey said, “When angry, count four; when very angry, swear.”
“God damn it!” she shrieked around her hand. “I said stop talking. I’m sure that’s another quote.” She went to the freezer for ice. “Just slice the damned carrots.”
When she walked away from the stove, Lurvey realized that the same oil that had splashed her had landed on the burner. “Odds, bobs, hammer, and tongs! It’s burning!” He hastened to turn off the heat before the smoldering smoke became something more serious.
“Lurvey, this is all your fault!” Elizabeth ran the ice over her scalded fingers. “I hate you sometimes!”
“Lizzie-bear, let me make dinner. Go sit and watch one of your shows. I’ll bring it to you in the living room.
“Fine.” She snatched a dishtowel to hold the ice and left the room.
To her retreating back, Lurvey murmured “After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relations.”
Scott gave me the idea for this one. And the quotations from this piece are as follows. I got them all from LitQuote, rather than dragging down the originals and finding them. And let’s be honest. Although I own it, the only Dickens I have read is A Christmas Carol. I cannot abide his other works, though I periodically try to get through one. (I haven’t in awhile. Probably time to go after him again.) The Shakespeare is actually printed on an apron I won as an undergraduate for writing the best paper in my Shakespeare class. Yes, I still have it.
“How beautiful you are! You are more beautiful in anger than in repose. I don’t ask you for your love; give me yourself and your hatred; give me yourself and that pretty rage; give me yourself and that enchanting scorn; it will be enough for me.” – Charles Dickens, The Mystery of Edwin Drood
Now good digestion wait on appetite and health on both. – Shakespeare, Macbeth 3.4
When angry, count four; when very angry, swear. – Mark Twain, The Tragedy of Pudd’nhead Wilson
“After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relations.” –Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance
And, with slight manipulation, the one from my prompt
“Odds, bobs, hammer, and tongs. I’m burning!” – Captain Hook … erm … J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
I gave Maya Bahl this prompt: “What are you going to tell your Mom?” “I’m not.”
Jessie Powell is the Jester Queen. She likes to tell you about her dog, her kids, her fiction, and her blog, but not necessarily in that order.