"You okay there sweetie?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, just .... oh never mind *grumble grumble*"
"I'm just about to read my logic book, are you sure you don't mind?"
"No, no no no, I'm o-kay here."
"It's just that ... you sound as though you're having problems cooking there."
Ginny's head whipped around and glared at Ambrose. He promptly grabbed his logic book and parked his ass on one of the seats.
Good thinking Brosie. Best stay out of things for a while you know.
Several minutes, and a whole heap of clattering and banging later, Ginny finally managed to load her 'world famous waffle batter mix' into the slightly battered and rather old looking oven. By now it's about 5pm and both of them are starving. Brosie, although his stomach grumbled mercilessly, shoved his nose deeper into his logic book, trying to ignore the gnawing pains that were developing. This was, after all, their first time of independent living. It was a momentous, magical occasion and the last thing Ambrose wanted, was to ruffle Virginia's feathers. She was stressed out already, and that was just by cooking waffles!!!!
"Mmmmm, smells nice over here."
"You think?"
"Yeah, why?"
"It's just that the numbers had rubbed off on one of the dials, so I had to guess the temperature. I hope it's fine."
Ambrose pressed his nose deeper into that book ..... and prayed for a miracle.
Ginny opened the door, and cursed the air blue.
"Dammit! They're bloody burned. After all that trouble I went through too."
Ambrose stayed quiet.
"Ohh, so hungry here. Going to fall through myself if I'm not careful."
It was a long and particularly loud stomach grumble that crumbled Ginny's resolve on trying not to dip into their depleted budget.
"Oh sod it," she said, reaching for the phone, "we're having pizza. Any flavour?"
"Make sure it's got olives on it."
"Okay."
Earlier, Ginny had noticed a few flyers that had been inserted into the newspaper, one or was it two of them were from pizza places. Thank goodness for small miracles. Whilst she dialled the number of the first one, the burned waffles stood cooling on the counter top, awaiting their fate.
She was told that pizza would be 45 minutes. That, to Ginny and Brosie, was a loooooong looooong time.
She tossed the ruined waffles in the trash, then tried to ignore hers and Brosie's loud stomach grumbling by watching the crackly old TV.
True to their word, pizza arrived.
And what do you know.....
THERE is a very familiar face indeedy.....
Was this Vladimir Shlick? Moonlighting as a pizza delivery guy? Or just a very convincing look-alike? And what's he doing in Riverview instead of Bridgeport? But meh, enough of Vlad, moving onto Ginny and Brosie.
By now, Brosie had managed to achieve one Logic point and was halfway through achieving another one when Ginny piped up....
"PIZZA!"
The two of them both grabbed a slice and chewed through it, relishing it as if it was an elaborate banquet and not just a lump of crusty dough with cheese and various toppings on it.
"Can't wait for tomorrow," Ambrose said between bites, "first day at work and all that."
"Yeah."
"Any idea what you're going to be doing?"
"Well, NOT cooking, that's for sure. At least not with THAT oven. It's past it's sell by date I can tell you. Maybe I'll poke around town for a little while, see if I can grab some bargains and stuff. Maybe get myself a job. Goodness knows, we need the cash flow. This house has such a big mouth."
They finished off their slices of pizza and realised there was more than enough to take them through the next day - provided the refrigerator was working properly, that is.
And whilst Ginny was washing up, Ambrose, completely wiped out, decided to head for bed.
Ginny followed suit as the two of them gave into exhausted sleep. With Ambrose dreaming about buying a brand new bed because the springs on this one were poking into.....
.... his hip.
And that ends their first day together.
