Page 420 of Ruthless Court
A voice somewhere in the hall shouts, “Are we on fire?”
“No!” Kane yells.
Vale opens the oven.
Smoke billows out.
“Close it!” five people scream.
The fire alarm for the entire building begins.
Red lights flash.
Stella closes her eyes.
“I cannot believe I date you.”
Vale grabs the roasting pan.
“Turkey’s fine.”
“The building is evacuating,” I tell him.
“It needs twenty minutes.”
“You need oxygen.”
Security eventually arrives.
Then facilities.
Then someone from housing who looks ready to expel all twelve of us.
The turkey is confiscated.
Not officially.
We are simply informed that nobody may turn the oven back on.
So at seven thirty on Thanksgiving night, twelve of us pile into cars and drive until we find a restaurant still open.
A diner.
Vinyl booths.
Plastic menus.
Holiday decorations taped crookedly around the windows.
They have turkey dinners.
Barely.
The mashed potatoes come from something powdered.
Vale complains.
Stella steals food off his plate.
