Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress

Carolyn stood behind the camera next to Shelly and watched the four brothers hover over the stove. In the background, the kitchen staff looked equal parts horrified and amused.

“Whose idea was this again?” Carolyn asked.

Shelley winced when Scott cracked an egg directly into the pan. “Kevin’s. He’s always thinking up creative things for contests.”

Carolyn was of the general opinion that sending the boys out on dates with rabid fans wasn’t going to make up for their sheer lack of dating lives, and once they were old enough they would discover the grand rock’n’roll tradition of one-night stands.

Bob glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled, then resumed cooking. Carolyn watched him pour milk into the frying pan and face-palmed. Clay and Bob attempted to get Scott in on their milk plan, whereas Dan, lactose intolerant and frequently mocked for it, was using liberal amounts of Clay’s tabasco sauce.

Dan turned to Shelley. “Hey, is this right?” He hefted the frying pan.

Carolyn would never tell Shelley that she’d been able to cook since she was seven. “No, look - do it like this.” Carolyn guided Dan, through a complicated mix of sign language and charades, to crack the eggs into a bowl, beat them with a fork, and then add the salt and pepper and milk there.

Dan glanced at Shelley for confirmation, who nodded and cast Carolyn a curious look.

“Kevin has good lawyers on retainer, right? Would getting food-poisoned by a boy you idolize constitute intentional infliction of emotional distress, do you think?” Carolyn asked.

Shelley blinked at her, and Carolyn realized that Shelley didn’t know Carolyn like Dianne had.

“I...wouldn’t know,” Shelley said. “Do you think about things like that often?”

“I want to be a lawyer when I grow up.” Carolyn watched Bob and Clay attempt to convince Scott to use milk again, to no avail, and then Shelley cried out.

“Bob! Your eggs are burning!”

All three triplets immediately joined the scramble to rescue Bob’s eggs, but it was too late.

“Milk burns, moron,” Scott said. And then he noticed Dan’s pan full of fluffy scrambled eggs. “When did you do that?”

Dan cast Shelley a look, and more sign language and charades ensued. Dan nudged Bob and said, “Hey, go get the bread rolls out of the oven.”

Bob slunk away, half-hidden behind his hair and blushing furiously.

Carolyn bit her lip to keep from laughing, and Shelley giggled behind her hand.

“I’ll teach those boys to cook yet,” she said.

“Maybe next time we should teach them before they’re set loose on poor, unsuspecting fangirls,” Carolyn agreed.

Shelley arched her eyebrow at the we, but then she nodded and smiled.

(455 words)