In answer to your question...yes, every installment is just this ridiculous...and
chocolate-centric. Read on...
To reread Part 1, click here.
Timidly, she greeted him. "Hi, Daddy. Are you home from Europe?"
"Yes," he replied. There was a pause. She nervously wound her graceful fingers
around a lock of spiraling hair.
"Have you given any consideration to my proposal?".
"Yes, Daddy, I have, but I'm sorry to say I can't accept. I told you before, I
have to follow my dreams!".
"Hannistina Adrianna Hershey, I have told you and told you, this makes absolutely
no sense! How can you give up a reliable $60,000 a year job in my accounting firm
to 'follow your dream' as a bon bon designer? Following dreams takes money, honey,
I don't care what Dr.Phil says."
She scrambled over to the pantry. Just a few more Hershey's kisses won't matter. "I can
always work out an extra two or three hours tonight," she thought. She took a deep
breath...and another kiss...
"Daddy, I was actually hoping you would help me finance the opening of my shop.
I'll give you a sizable percentage of the profits. I know I can do it! You know
I've always had a way with food..."
It was at that unfortunate moment that the smoke alarm pealed its way through
the house. Smoke billowed from the oven. Her apple crisp was certainly crisp.
Laughter filled the receiver of the phone.
"I see you're up to your old antics again, Hannistina. You know you belong with me.
Let me know when you get this out of your system."
Hot tears of frustration threatened to spill down Hannistina's face as she listened
to the empty air on the other end of the phone line. How like him to get the last
word, thought Hannistina as she hung up the phone. She jerked open the oven, grabbed
the oven mitts and pulled out her spoiled dessert.
Her shoulders began to shake with laughter as she scraped her mess of apples into
the garbage disposal. How ridiculously funny it all was. She was not much better
off than that cocky eleven year old that challenged her big sister to an apple crisp
cook-off! She had been sure that she would beat her obsessive, direction-following
sister with her "pinch of this and pinch of that" philosophy of cooking.
Unfortunately, that method worked much better for her grandmother who had forty years
of cooking experience to back her up. Her challenge had gone down as a loss, and
Hannistina ultimately chalked it up to a joint lesson in humility and the importance
of following directions.
She looked at the timer, still blinking with the original 35 minutes that she had
forgotten to start. Laughter is a good medicine, but what in the world would she
do for dessert? Company would be here in thirty minutes. Her stomach tightened as
she reflected on the importance of this meal. His very name thrilled her to her rose
blush painted toenails. Georgio Salvadore Ghiradelli--if ever there was a man made
just for her, she was sure it must be him. As she swept her spoon through the
simmering pot of chili, her mind envisioned her upcoming meeting with the chocolate
expert. He would be tall and vital, an obvious result of the disease-fighting
properties in the succulent chocolates his family produced. She could see the dark
sparkle in his eyes, envision his robust Italian mannerisms, hear his rolled r's,
and as he drew close to kiss her hand, the faint aura of cocoa perfumed his hair.
He would be perfect.
Hannistina sighed heavily; the glitter of silver caught her eye. The blood
immediately shot to her cheeks as she saw the pile of kisses wrappers heaped next
to the chili pot. How could she have let this happen again?
"Daydreams and bulk bags of Hershey products don't mix," she fumed while sweeping the
clutter into the trash can. "Somebody always gets fat".
She returned to the stove to cover the chili and saw something that made her heart
sink...melting chocolate in her chili pot.
"My lovely dinner is ruined! Oh what shall I do?" she screamed.
Sorry to leave you on edge, but,
To be continued...