Chapter 62
Isobel sighed. "You can stop yelling. It won't help matters."
"Whose side are you on?" barked her grandfather.
"There are no sides," Isobel said, taking the spatula from him and rescuing the burning pancake. "The stove is not out to get you."
"Then why does it insist on burning things?"
"Since when do you try and cook?" she countered as she threw the pan into the sink and made him a bowl of cereal instead.
He took the spoon. "Our cook still hasn't returned. And I tire of this artificial. . . " Crunch. "Sugary." Gulp. "Mmmm."
Rasputin finally got something into his angry belly and mellowed out. The kitchen was safe until lunch, which would hopefully be easier, given she'd called a catering company to bring a platter of sandwiches.