It was after school as Eric, Spencer and Frieda was waiting for Benton to pull up. Seeing Frieda’s father drive up to the pickup spot; all three quickly file into the back seat. While Frieda is completely calm, Spencer is showing some slight apprehension, while Eric was trying to determine if Benton was going to pull a fast one on them.
Benton being calm just utters “seatbelts” before driving off to his estate. Despite it being a quiet twenty minute drive to the outskirts of the town; the silence and tension in the car was as thick as pea soup. Frieda sensing both Eric’s and Spencer’s apprehension just smiles; silently comforting them. Knowing full well that her father wouldn’t do something rash, she speaks up.
“We have some time before the ceremony starts,” Frieda speaking; “we should get our homework done first.”
“You’ll be doing that in the kitchen where I can keep an eye on you three,” Benton answering curtly.
“No need to chaperon us father,” Frieda sighing; “It’s not as if Spencer and I are going to start polishing Eric’s nob as soon as we get in.” Frieda grinning at the last bit she stated.
Both Eric and Benton’s eyes go wide at the thought of some pre were-panther gathering fun; both react differently, but Benton was the first to respond.
“You’re lucky your mother is still in the hospital Frieda,” Benton looking horrified at what he just heard; “if she heard you say that, it would be the death of her.”
“Please father,” Frieda rolling her eyes; “Mom is not a fragile porcelain doll. There is no need to treat her like one.”
Benton couldn’t drum up a comeback for the last comment his daughter made; Frieda was right, Amanda was a lot tougher than she looked.
The rest of the car ride passed in silence; pulling into the garage everyone gets out. Benton opening the trunk of the town car he hands Eric and Spencer’s overnight bags that they dropped off earlier. Taking their bags all three head to the kitchen; Frieda grabbing a few sodas as Eric and Spencer sit at the small table and bring out their various schoolwork. For Eric it was mostly studying for a history test. Spencer had and essay regarding the Shakespearean play The Tempest. Frieda sat down, both Spencer and Eric immediately saw what she had for homework; Algebra.
“PEMDAS,” Spencer states as Frieda looks at the equations and then confusingly at Spencer.
“What,” Frieda asking; “what are you saying?”
“The order in which you need to solve each equation,” Spencer stating as Eric looks on; “Parenthesis, Exponents, Multiplication, Division, Addition and Subtraction.”
“You remembered;” Eric smiling.
“Well you did teach me that last Thursday,” Spencer smiling; “before the power went out.”
Benton silently watches as the two show Frieda a simple trick in doing her math homework; quietly grunting in approval as they work on their homework. Benton gets up as the doorbell rings; knowing it is the catering group he hired to set up the buffet; he is surprised to see with the six cooks a young yet tall teenage boy with them.
As they file in, Benton is even more surprised when the six cooks start deferring to the young boy as to what their assignments are to be.
“Mister Knight. John Shaffer,” the werewolf holding out his hand; “Mr. Franklin could not join us due to a prior commitment.”
“And what would that be,” Benton trying to get over the shock of this young person leading the catering group all the while accepting his hand to shake.
“Alcoholics Anonymous,” John answers; “where is the kitchen? I need to finalize my profiteroles, and start assembling the croquembouche tower.”
“And how old are you,” Benton is asking; “where did you go to get your culinary education?”
“I’m fourteen,” John answers; “As for my culinary education? I’m self-taught. A savant when it comes to the kitchen.”
“Kitchen is this way;” Benton looking dumbstruck as the young werewolf follows Benton.
When John entered the kitchen he sees Eric, Frieda and Spencer at a table doing homework. Not expecting to see Eric here; John instructs the other cooks to get the buffet tables and steam trays prepped before beginning to reheat the food prepared earlier in the day. Grabbing the large crate that one of the cooks hauled in earlier; John grabs several trays of the profiteroles he made yesterday and places them in the oven to reheat them.
Turning back to the kitchen island; John grabs the ingredients he brought over in the same crate with his profiteroles and starts making the croquembouche tower. Benton joining his daughter and her friends at the table as they all quietly observe John deftly mixes his ingredients and places them in the second oven to cook. Removing the profiteroles from the first oven, he hands them to a cook who then places them on serving trays.
“When will the serving staff be here,” John asks as he starts creating the caramel sauce that will be used to glue the cream puffs in the oven together.
“In an hour,” one of the cooks answer; ”A few of us will have to act as servers since not all of the servers are weres.”
“We all have to do that,” As John shifts into his werewolf fursona. Before stood a black haired blue eyed six foot kid; now before them stood a seven foot werewolf with yellow eyes, sporting a fur coat that marked John as a timber wolf variant. “Every cook will be serving;” John looking directly at the cook who didn’t feel like arguing with a three hundred pound predator.
Benton looking bemused as the young werewolf is clearly in command as he deftly assembles the croquembouche tower.
“Are you parents okay with you working until midnight,” Benton looking to diffuse some of the fear even he is getting from staring at the imposing werewolf.
“My dad might have an issue if he were still alive,” John answers as he continues building his tower; “but he was killed while executing a search warrant when he was a police officer for Seattle P.D.”
“And your mother,” Benton asking; surprised that John could be so casual in discussing tragedy.
“She’s dead,” John answers showing no emotion; “she was in the county jail in Seattle when she died Sunday evening.”
“Oh my;” Frieda and Spencer speaking in unison.
“Now it’s just me and my aunt,” John pouring the leftover caramel sauce on the tower and then adding his own personal touch to the tower. Starting to create a spun-sugar floss, John continues speaking; “My mother was arrested for grand theft auto, destruction of property and several other crimes involving public intoxication. She was an alcoholic.”
“You don’t have any other family,” Benton looking concerned; “an uncle, grandparents?”
“No to both,” John responds as he carefully wraps the spun sugar around the croquembouche tower before it hardens; “Sheriff Cooper is my godfather. He and my father were partners when they both were gang taskforce officers.“
Benton can’t help but admire the pastry tower that he witnessed being created. Seeing the werewolf and one of the other cooks now in his were-dog fursona, carefully move the confection to the serving tent that the other cooks just set up.
“You three go watch television,” Benton getting up; “I’m certain the catering staff will need the entire kitchen soon to finish cooking and prepping for tonight.”
Eric, Spencer and Frieda collect their school work; following Frieda, Eric and Spencer head to a large living room not far from the kitchen. Eric lets off a low whistle as he sees the monster flat screen covering a wall with sofa and matching chairs placed in front of the t.v
“Now that’s a T.V.,” Spencer looking surprised; as Frieda turns it on and turns it to a science fiction channel.
“I brought some movies,” Eric running to collect his go bag; “more cheesy horrors.”
“Not in the mood for a movie right now Eric,” Frieda trying to dig into her homework; “What John just shared as he was making that pastry tower was kind of sad.”
“True,” Eric sitting next to Frieda; “but did you see how gob smacked your father was as John in his fursona made making that tower look easy?”
“I noticed that to,” Spencer sitting on the other side of Frieda; “as well as the lack of emotion he displayed when casually discussing his family’s tragic history.”
“you think a lonely were-panthress will take a shine to John, “Eric asks; “despite the fact that he is a werewolf?”
“Oh undoubtedly,” Frieda answers; “I wouldn’t be surprised if my father is letting John know of that at this moment.”