She didn’t like eating lobster either, and she absolutely hated throwing live lobsters in boiling water, and of course, Julien insisted that a fine bouillabaisse was not complete without lobster. Searching for some inspiration, she perused the wine rack and pulled out a bottle of 2010 merlot. A fine year—2010 was the year she had started culinary school. It wasn’t like Julien would be using it anyway; he preferred to cook with wines that were aged ten years or older.
She opened the cupboard, poured herself a crystal goblet full, and took a swill. Now she would be more relaxed when the lobster delivery arrived. As if on cue, a burly deliveryman pushed through the kitchen door with a brown burlap sack in hand.
“Hello, miss,” he greeted Lumi, “should I give these to you?”
Lumi eyed the bag in dismay. “Yes, that’s fine.”
She sighed as he held out a slip for her to sign. Lumi scribbled her signature and handed it back to him, thanking him under her breath as he left.
Once he was gone, Lumi stood in front of the bag, staring at it as she put on two silicone oven mitts and paced back and forth. Suddenly, the smooth outside of the bag started to ripple and rustle.
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered as she walked to the other side of the kitchen.
She cast her eyes furtively around the room. Thankfully, the kitchen was still empty and there was no one to see her being such a baby. She willed herself with the most mettle she could muster to march back to those lobsters, pull them out of the bag, and toss them in the water and be done with it. Only when she went back to it, there was a lengthwise rip in the side of the bag.
“Ay, coño,” she said. Her eyes darted wildly around the kitchen floor. Arming herself with a broom, she poked under cabinets, the oven, and the dishwasher. She checked under the refrigerator. Nothing. A sigh of relief escaped her. It appeared one of them had just ripped the bag, but none had escaped.
With the tips of her glove-sheathed fingers, inch by inch she tugged the bag over to the pot of boiling water, keeping it as far away from her body as possible. Using a spatula, she forced open the staples at the top of the bag and peered down. Ten spindly creatures were passively lying in wait, and she could swear they were staring back at her.
Making sure her gloves were on tight, she lifted one out with a pair of metal tongs. She glanced from the lobster to the water and back again. She turned to face the pot.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” she whispered to the crustacean. “I hope there is some tasty algae waiting for you up in the big coral reef in the sky.”
She took another deep breath and released the tongs. The lobster fell into the water with a sickening plop. She exhaled deeply. It had helped her to give it a little departing speech. She picked up the next one. It didn’t squirm at all. Once again, she turned toward the pot. She looked at the lobster and did her best to send it loving end-of-life thoughts.
“I’m sorry, my friend,” she began. “I hope that—” She was interrupted by a colossal laugh booming from the doorway.
She turned on her heel and threw Julien a sideways glance.
“You! How long were you standing there?” she asked.
Julien stepped forward. “Ms. Santana,” he said, “in the fifteen years of Catholic school I endured, I never saw a priest quite like you.”
Lumi rolled her eyes.
“Do you need an incense tower? I keep a spare in my office,” he said, the lights in his eyes belying his amusement.
“I’m sure you do,” Lumi shot back, returning to the task at hand. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have eight more lobsters who deserve their last rites.”
Julien looked at her in surprise. “Oh. Well, then, be back in a bit,” he said, and dashed off.
Lumi watched him go and then turned back to the lobsters. The interruption had scattered her focus. For the remaining lobsters, she gave each of them a quick “sorry” before she promptly dispatched them into the bubbling pot.
Soon her coworkers started filing in, and both Richard and Gloria greeted Lumi warmly before they assumed their stations. The lobsters finished boiling, and Lumi drained the water and fished them out with the tongs in preparation for shelling. She looked in the direction of Ruben’s grill, which was still unmanned. There was no meat dish on the night’s menu, so she hoped he would be free to help her shell the lobsters once he arrived.
But then a shrill scream came from inside the wine closet.
“Ooooommmmmmiiiiigoooood, there’s a monster in here!” Richard jumped out of the closet, clutching two bottles of cabernet. “Help!” he said.
Right behind him, a lobster scuttled out, its claws free and snapped in the air.
“Omigod, get it. Get it!”
Lumi gasped. She hadn’t thought to check in the wine closet. Gloria grabbed the broom, but the creature evaded her and slipped under the kitchen island.
“Get it, Lumi,” Richard said.
Lumi took the broom from Gloria and furtively poked under the island. “Get the tongs,” she said.
Gloria thrust the tongs under the island and the lobster scurried out. All three of them jumped back as it ran out and quickly crawled to the opposite side of the kitchen.
“Damn it,” Gloria cursed.
Just then, Esme appeared in the doorway. “What are you people making such a fuss about?” she asked. As she shoved the door toward the wall, the lobster ran out from behind it. “Oh, shit!” she yelled, and just as quickly ducked back into the hall.
“Where’d it go?” Lumi asked. She had lost track after the receptionist had opened the door. “Look under all the tables,” she instructed the others.
There was the sound of heavy footsteps pacing down the hall. “I hope that’s Ruben,” Gloria said. “He’ll catch this thing in no time.”
Instead, Julien strode back into the kitchen. “Ms. Santana, I know you said no, but I brought the incense tower just in ca—what the hell is going on in here?” he asked as he surveyed his three cowering employees, all with mussed hair, crouching on the floor of the kitchen.
He thought for a second.
“Ms. Santana,” he began, gently shaking his head. “You were trying to save one from its fate, weren’t you?” He sighed in mock consternation.
Lumi felt her face flush. “I wasn’t. It escaped,” she said.
Julien raised an eyebrow. “Mm-hmm.”
He held his hand out to Lumi for the broom and she passed it to him. With the tip of the broom, Julien nudged the lobster out from under the island, grabbed it by its tail with his bare hand, and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it sailing into the pot of water that Lumi had set to boil for the green beans, which were to be served with garlic sauce.
“All in a tizzy over a little lobster. And you call yourselves chefs,” he said. He handed the broom back to Lumi. “Ms. Santana, can I trust that you can handle the rest of the night? Or should I be on hand in case any other dangerous creatures rear themselves from the recesses of this kitchen?” he asked, his eyes flashing devilishly.
Lumi crossed her arms. She felt her cheeks burning and hoped it did not show. “We’ll be fine,” she answered. “Goodbye.”
Julien stared at her in pretend shock. “Being kicked out of my own kitchen, am I?” he said. “I won’t be too far away, just in case.”