Chapter Forty-seven

THE ANDERCHRONICLES

By Me, Ellee

[WARNING: The following story has been rated FNF*]
*Fiction NOT Fact

[SECOND WARNING: Please be advised, the following characters are not real, nor do they represent anyone who happens to be real. They are merely the results of the author's blue matter, which is completely different from grey matter. If you don't understand this second warning, just skip it, and go directly to the story. Hopefully you will understand that, if not, skip it, too.]

"Resolution Number Twenty-nine"

M
olly, obviously not wanting to be excluded from newt hunting, began whining as she nudged her way between Andy and me with her snout. Once she had succeeded in separating us, she started licking first my face and then Andy’s. She seemed to like that alot—maybe she found some apple lip gloss that somehow Andy had missed, but I didn’t know how that was possible—he had been quite meticulous about getting all there was.

“Awwwww, what’s a matter with my widdle baby Molly girl?,” Andy baby-talked, “you feel weft out cuz you like newt hunting, too, you cute widdle poochy-poo?”

Andy scratched her ears and ruffled the folds of furry skin on her back, and made kissy-kissy noises as he pretended to kiss her, too. Then he gave her a big ol’ doggie bear hug.

Shortly after that, he left for the office, and his mom left with him. It was just Molly and I, alone for the afternoon, so we decided to get busy and put the television back together again, to surprise Andy when he came home later that night.

The task, however, proved arduous, and mind boggling. First, finding all the parts—Molly had them strung throughout the house playing with them. One particular component was shaped like a bone and she insisted on chewing it, so I let her have it, and prayed it wouldn’t make too much difference. After finding all the other electronic dohickies, I had to separate them into categories, depending on where they went in the TV. And since I didn’t really know where they went in the TV, I had to guess. I developed a rule of thumb: if something fit well somewhere, I left it there, and went on to the next gizmo.

Three hours later, I decided I no longer liked putting electronic puzzles together, so I took Molly for a walk instead. We were gone for the rest of the day and when we returned, I was much too tired for puzzles of any kind. So I fixed supper and cleaned up the mess, leaving a note next to the snack I left for Andy, telling him I almost had his TV fixed, and not to move any of the parts. Then I read a book and went to bed.

The next day, I didn’t get back to the TV until early afternoon. When I entered the media room and looked around, I noticed there were more doodads waiting to be restored than I remembered from the day before. I wondered if Molly had dragged some back in from one of her hiding places. During the night I made an important decision concerning televisions—the next time I come across a broken one, I’ll just walk away. Sound advice, I thought.

I worked steadily for a couple of hours and had managed to get most of the parts crammed back into the television set through some stroke of brilliant luck, or . . . or maybe it had to do with that incredible cosmic event out in Quogue. You remember, the string co-ordinates lining up with the Stars of Panthera, but I wasn't really certain about that. Now I said, most of the parts for a reason, that being there were several little thingamajiggies left over which I just couldn't find a slot for. I had them spread out on the round coffee table, which I was kneeling over, trying to figure out what to do with them as I placed them in a plastic bag, and I wasn’t really aware of what was going on around me at that time.

All at once a small white box, tied with a white silk ribbon edged in silver, dropped out of nowhere, landing in front of me onto the table, scaring me to death. I immediately swung around and found Andy grinning widely as he lowered himself next to me at the little table. While his eyes danced with mine, he loosened his blue satin necktie from the tight grip it had around his robust neck, allowing his Adam’s apple the freedom it had longed for all day. It was now able to move up and down quite comfortably as he swallowed and said,

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I answered back, also grinning.

“What’s that?” I asked, gesturing toward the white box. There was a long pause accompanied by more smiling—timing was everything—and then,

“Resolution,” another pause, “. . . number twenty-nine.” The grin expanded significantly.

A questioning look appeared on my face as my left eyebrow took a little dive.

“Ellee, you DO remember resolution number twenty-nine, don’t you?” he asked, pulling three crumpled pieces of paper from the inside pocket of his dark-blue suit jacket. “That’s the one right after resolution number twenty-eight. Now I KNOW you remember that one!”

He began waving the crinkled sheets in front of me as his eyes lit up, and mine flew open wide. Yes, indeedy, I thought, I know resolution number twenty-eight all too well—how could I ever forget, after all the embarrassment it had caused me?

My hand automatically shot out to snatch those incriminating papers away from him, but his reaction was much quicker than mine, and he jerked them out of reach almost the instant my hand went into action.

“Andy! I thought I threw that list of New Year’s Resolution into the waste basket!”

“You DID!”

“So how is it you now have possession of all three pages?”

“Molly,” was his response, accompanied by an audacious grin.

“Molly???”

“Yeah, she got into the garbage can and picked up the whole wad in her mouth, then trotted off to my room and dropped it on my bed.”

“And you expect me to believe thaaaat?”

“Yes, of course.”

“You fabricate.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!”

“No, I don’t!”

“Molly,” I summoned, “come here, girl.” She slowly walked over to us. “Now did you, or did you not take these pieces of paper from the garbage can?”

Her eyes wandered from me to Andy, and back again, and then she lay down and put her head on her paws.

“See, Molly was not the culprit here. So who was?”

My eyes flashed from Molly to Andy, who was now watching me intently. He didn’t answer. We stared at each other for several seconds, and then he motioned toward the box and said,

“Why don’t you open Resolution Number Twenty-nine, Ellee?”

“Well, just maybe I will.”

I pulled the package closer and untied the bow, slipping it off the shiny, smooth surface of the cardboard box. When I opened the lid and saw what was inside, my tongue made an unscheduled trip around my lips while a melodic “mmmmmmm!” sounded aloud. Then I flashed my eyes up at Andy, batting my long black eyelashes, and cooed,

“Ooooooo, I simply adore cream puffs, Andy!” My eyelids closed half way. “They’re my very . . . most favorite . . . of all things”—besides diamonds, that is, I thought to myself, but I already had lots of diamonds, now, thanks to him.

“I figured as much when I saw . . .” he opened the New Year’s Resolutions and read, “Bring Ellee luscious cream puffs every single day, because they are her most favorite thing in the entire whole, wide world.”

He then spread the papers on the table in front of him and with his long fingers smoothed over the surface to flatten them. Then, ever so carefully, folded them systematically into fourths, and slipped them back into his coat pocket, patting the outside at the spot where these resolutions were now safe and secure.

When I turned my attention back to the contents of the box, I discovered not one, but two perfectly made cream puff swans with long curving necks wrapped around each other, their beaks touching. I lifted them carefully out of the container, keeping them together, and set them on the paper lace doily I found on the bottom of the box. We both stared at the two swans, who were obviously in love—they were kissing. After several moments, we glanced up at each other and I said,

“That’s an interesting configuration. Was that the . . . uhh . . . the bakery’s idea to place them in the box like that?”

“No, Ellee . . . it was not.”

Just then I heard a loud thump as my heart took a leap.

“ Well, they’re beautiful, Andy. I can’t wait to eat them!”

“Them? What do you mean, them? One of those is mine, you know.”

“Oh! Sorry. I thought they were both for me.”

He leaned over close, our noses almost touching, and breathed,

“Cream puffs just happen to be my very most favorite thing in the whole world, too, you know!”

Then he leaned back against his chair, his eyes focused on me.

“Go ahead,” he urged, “take one.”

My hand reached out for the swans, sliding them toward me on the doily. Suddenly Andy’s hand covered mine in a warm squeeze, causing yet another jolt to my heart.

“Remember,” he grinned, “just one . . .” Then he released my hand.

So I disengaged just one, lifting it off the paper lace, and slid the other one back to Andy. He reached for it, his elegantly curving fingers wrapping around the swan in a most gentle way. It was almost like an embrace. I watched as he broke off a piece of the puff pastry filled with the rich cream, and popped it into his mouth. For the next few seconds, I could see he was rolling the delicate morsel around in his mouth, savoring the sweetness being released as he chewed. When he finished that first bite, he moved close to me again, and looking directly at me crooned,

“Mmmmmmm . . . cream puffs!”

The blue of his eyes was sparkling more than usual, I thought. Then he broke off another little piece loaded with whipped cream, and brought it to my lips, where my tongue, not wanting to wait any longer, quickly licked off all the cream, and then my mouth went for the pastry, catching not only the crisp shell, but his fingers as well.

“Oops, sorry,” I snickered.

“Hey, just the cream puff, not the fingers!” he added, giggling.

The pastry was delicious—light and delicate pate a choux, with cream whipped to perfection, so that it melted on my tongue, and slid down my throat, exciting all those little gustatory calyculi on its way. And the fingers weren’t half bad, either, but I stuck to the cream puff after that.

Next I took my cream puff and broke it in two. My first reaction was to plunge immediately into the cream-filled center. The cream is what it’s all about anyway, so why wait, is my philosophy when it comes to eating cream puffs. However, with Andy watching me, I decided maybe that wouldn’t be the thing to do at the moment, so I just broke off tiny little pieces and began eating them. Andy broke his into little pieces also, and we sat there together eating our little swans. All at once he said,

“Ellee . . . ummmm . . . I think a little cream . . . uh, got on your . . . uh cheek.”

“Oh really?” I said, embarrassed that my eating had drawn his attention. “Where?” I felt around my cheek, but couldn’t feel anything.

“It’s right there,” he pointed.

“Where?” I still hadn’t found it.

“Right there,” he said at the precise moment he smeared a big daub on my cheek.

“Oh!” I answered.

“But not to worry; I can take care of it,” he assured me.

And with that he reached for me and began kissing my cheek until the cream was gone. When he was through, he leaned back a bit to observe his work. That’s when I saw them—the Grand Tetons, with their majestic, high peaks jutting upward toward the sky. Oh heaven help me, I thought, because I realized that at any moment there could be a heavy snowfall completely blanketing those mountains, AND it would be up to me to do the snow removal.

As these very thoughts crystalized, I found I had already scooped up the remaining cream from my puff, and was headed for the mountains. When Andy saw me coming he yelled,

“What are you dooooing, Ellee? . . . Ellee! Ellee! STOP!”

But by then it was too late, the blizzard had already begun, and heavy snow was accumulating on those mountains.

“Ellee! Ellee! Ellee!" the cries were heard echoing along the mountain pass, “what’s going on?”

“Andy, it’s in the forecast: Heavy snow! Nine to ten inches in the mountains.”

“What???”

“Not to worry, Andy. I can take care of it—I'm good at snow removal!”

And I was. I went right to work with my shovel, pushing and scraping and stacking the snow off to the side, and then scooping it up and finally disposing it. I worked from one mountain to the other, shoveling and scraping, and clearing, until every last bit of white creamy snow had been scooped up and disposed. That was snow removal at its most efficient. In the end I stood back and looked at Andy, who seemed a bit dazed by the whole snowstorm and subsequent snow removal, but obviously none the worse for wear.

I had done such a great job clearing that snow away, that the only thing he could say for a long time was, Ellee, Ellee, until finally he recovered enough to say,

“Resolution Number Twenty-eight ! THAT WAS RESOLUTION NUMBER TWENTY-EIGHT! Right, Ellee? That’s what #28 is all about!"

I blushed. “Well . . . I . . . ohhh, Andy can't we just forget # 28?”

"Well, maybe," he said as his eye caught sight of his HDTV now hanging once again on the wall, like it did before I fixed it. "I see my television is finally up. Does it work?"

"Of course it works! I fixed it."

"And did you get all the parts put back in?"

"Yes."

"All of them, Ellee???" He was looking at the plastic bag. "What about those?"He pointed to the bag.

"Well . . . except for those, and . . . and the ones Molly ran off with—but it's probably not that many.

"So what you're saying is, it doesn't work?"

"Well . . ."

"Ellee, either it works, or it doesn't. Here's the deal. If it works, we won't read resolution twenty-eight, BUT on the other hand if it doesn't, well . . . we'll read number twenty-eight together—out loud"

I could see a lot of smirkling going on in those eyes, but I knew he was serious about reading that infamous resolution, AND I also knew that TV probably wasn't going to work, if the plastic bag full of parts was any indication.

"Ohhhhh, very well, Andy. There's only one way to find out." I was resigned to my fate as I picked up the controller and handed it to him. "Go ahead, see for yourself."

I knew I was only a click away from total embarrassment, so at the moment he raised the little black device, and I saw his finger poised over the 'On' button, I held my breath and closed my eyes and waited in fearful anticipation. But much to my surprise, and obviously his, at the very moment his finger depressed the button, the television sprang to life blaring out a disgusting advertisement about toenail fungus.

We were both so astonished, we couldn't say anything at first, and then all at once Andy picked me up and swung me around shouting,

"Ellee, YOU ARE A GENIUS!"

And I have to admit, he was right. Only a genius could have stuffed all those parts back into that TV set and made it work. Either that, or I was one incredibly lucky gal. Then I realized, I WAS ONE INCREDIBLY LUCKY GAL—I WAS IN ANDY'S ARMS.

Bye for now,
Love,
One Incredibly Lucky Gal, Ellee