Bedeviled Angel Read Free Page A

them as they turned.
    "Is it supposed to do that?" Melody asked.
    "It's usually mushier," Shane said.
    "Eggs! I forgot the eggs." Melody got the eggs out of the fridge, cracked one against the side of the mixing bowl, and dropped it in. Almost immediately, the beaters turned more smoothly, and the blending ingredients began to resemble a thick batter.

    Shane grinned.
    Melody wasn't so lucky with the second egg, and a few pieces of eggshell went in with it. "Drat! Catch that piece of shell. No, don't! You'll catch your fingers. Wait."
    She lifted the beaters so she and Shane could grab the shells before they were folded into the batter.
    But the beaters took to spinning at warp speed, splattering batter all over, and Shane took to screaming.
    Melody screamed, too, when she saw another slab of batter hit him in the face.
    Then the poor kid was crying, really crying, for her to turn it off.
    By the time she pulled the plug, Melody was crying as well. "Where are you hurt, baby? Tell Melody where."
    Shane kept shaking his head, and hiccuping, and swiping at his face, then he opened his eyes, and two dark little caverns swimming in tears stared accusingly up at her through a mask of yellow batter.
    "I'll never forgive myself," she said.
    He had batter in his hair, his ears. He was sneezing batter! After Melody carried him into the bathroom and washed him up, he admitted that the slap of batter had stung, and she cried again, in pure relief, because he was okay.
    Shane patted her elbow. "It's okay, Mel. I'll take care of you."
    Melody blew her nose. "How about we take care of each other," she said on a laugh.
    "Okay, Mel."
    After they went upstairs for Shane to change his clothes, they made friends with the mixer from hell, and during their second attempt, the batter actually looked like the picture in the cookbook. "Success," Melody said, as she poured it in a pan and placed it in the oven.
    They got the hot fruit glaze right on the first try, another success, until Shane dipped a finger in for a scalding taste.
    Melody applied a burn cream to the tip of his finger and covered it with one of her favorite cartoon Band-Aids. Then she wiped a few more tears and took him on her lap to cuddle. "Here," she said, bringing the wounded finger to her lips. "Let me kiss it better."
    For a minute, Shane looked dumbfounded, then he buried his little face in her neck, and she stroked his baby-fine hair. "You all right, buddy?"
    "I'm sorry, Mel."
    " You're sorry?" She cupped his cheek and pulled his head back so she could look into his sad little face. "For what?"
    "Being bad. Don't send me away."
    "Send you… I might follow you home. Besides, you could never be bad. You're the best little boy that ever taught me to cook. Er, but don't tell your dad about the cooking, not until I'm better at it, okay?"
    "Okay, Mel."
    "Pals?"
    "You and me?"
    "Sure. You're such a good kid, I might have to borrow you from your dad once in a while, just so you can be a good influence on me."
    "Okay, Mel."
    "Do you know how to-make gravy?"
    "I watch Dad do it all the time."
    "Good, let's try that next."
    They decided to use a big pan and make a lot, because gorgeous old Dad liked extra gravy. But while Melody was stirring it, just the way Shane said Dad did, the gravy erupted without warning, bubbling down the stove like a hot lava flow.
    "Yikes! Yikes!" In a panic as to how to stop it from taking over her kitchen, Melody lifted Shane off the chair he was standing on and moved him to safety.
    While he repeated his new mantra, "Turn it off, turn it off," Melody tried a forward attack, but couldn't get close enough to the stove to reach the dial. So she went to the broom closet and flipped the circuit breakers—all of them—to cut the power to the stove… and plunged them into darkness.
    A heavy silence fell, and lasted, for half a beat, until a spontaneous eruption of a little boy's giggles grew, and grew, and a crescendo of full-blown laughter, joyful and