“Steph! Get the phone, love, I have my hands full,” George literally had his hand down a chicken’s throat.
“Sure, honey.”
“Hi, DeLaureal residence, Stephanie speaking,” Steph was putting on her call centre voice. George continued stuffing the chicken.
“Re ally, oh my gosh, re ally, oh my, let me tell George,” she was becoming almost incoherent.
“George, George, wait till I tell you. We won, we won. George we won,” bouncing into the kitchen she grabbed George and swung him round.
Her eyes, beautiful blue jewels, were shining like sapphires, little pink spots on her cheeks and a wide grin all helped give George the jolt to ask what they had won.
“The second honeymoon, they liked our story, we leave tomorrow, yea, yea, yea.”
“What about the chicken?” George asked weakly
“Stuff the chicken! We’re going to Jamaica!” Steph rushed off.
She was probably packing he thought and slowly emptied the chicken and the rest of the stuffing into the bin. The special stuffing would have to wait. Actually, he thought, this might work better, it would be much easier on vacation to add the necessary ingredients to cause an allergic reaction and he might even get compensation to boot. Win, win. A honeymoon to remember.
“Need help packing love? Let’s see how much we can stuff into the suitcase, eh love.”