Volume I, Issue vi

February 1999

What's Cookin' on the Backburner: Episode 5 by Judy Ellison

Episode 5: "We cannot all be masters..."

As for Reginald, he attended a meeting of Port Charles' various house staff, held in Mrs. Lansbury's private tearoom at Wyndemere.

It was a modestly-sized room, lavishly furnished in the Victorian style that Mrs. Lansbury preferred. And, although most of the room lay underground, the garden-level windows faced south and west, allowing an inordinate amount of sunlight through; making her little tearoom one of the best-lit rooms in the overly-dark Wyndemere.

The majority of the domestics present hailed from Wyndemere, which did, after all, house the largest staff. Rheese and Gibbons sat quietly on either side of the fireplace, their stony faces and dark attire lending additional mass to the already-formidable mantle. Mrs. Lansbury played hostess to the gathering, and was, at present, busy outside of the room at the dumbwaiter, loading her tea cart with treats from the kitchen above. Wenders would, naturally, be the last to arrive, after he finished shuttling the other guests across the Port Charles River.

Reginald seated himself on an elegantly-embroidered settee cushion, and smiled a tacit invitation to Leticia, who stood frozen in a 'deer-in-the-headlights' pose at the doorway. Surely, this must be the strangest of places for her, thought Reginald; all delicate lines and filigree, cushioned with down, encased in rich velvet and intricate tapestry, and embellished with rich, bright color: the garden brought indoors. How different from the modern, straight lines and masculine black leather and brown palate of her current penthouse residence. And, of course, at this gathering, there would be no strong smell of coffee, only the mild scent of bergamot wafting from the pot of Earl Grey.

Emboldened by Reginald's smile, Leticia nodded a greeting to everyone and crossed the room to sit by his side. Graciela followed her daughter through the door, pulling a reluctant Benny behind her.

"I still think I'm intruding," Benny said, continuing a conversation that had obviously started long before they entered the room. He gingerly prodded the cushion of the Queen Anne sofa with the palm of his hand before he sat down, dubious that the dainty-looking piece of furniture would support him.

"Nonsense, Benjamin," said Mrs. Lansbury, following behind the couple with the tea cart. "I understand that you're as indispensable to the Corinthos or Morgan household as any of their other staff present."

"Thanks Mrs. L, but I'm just the bookkeeper, I don't know anything about...about..." he waved his arms in a useless motion at the carefully arranged scones on the tea cart, indicating his discomfort with the high level of gentility in the room.

Mrs. Lansbury laughed. "Oh Benjamin, pay no mind to the trappings. This is nothing more than a simple gathering of 'the help'. A place where we can feel free to discuss the special brand of information we become privy to day after day in the course of our employment."

"In other words, gossip," added Graciela, playfully elbowing Benny in the side.

Benny smiled. "Oh, I see," he said. But the smile was short-lived as he cast a worried eye toward Johnny, who insisted upon remaining just outside of the door. "But won't our bosses get mad?"

"No classified information will ever..." "....leave this room," said Rheese and Gibbons, who had developed a habit of speaking in series, one finishing the other's sentences for him in the manner of some identical twins or long-married spouses. And a wave of reassurance passed around the room, as each participant added his or her oath of silence.

Benny visibly relaxed and helped himself to a scone. "These are wonderful," he said.

Just then, Cook bustled into the room bearing a basket of croissants. Without a word, she deposited them unceremoniously on the tea cart, pushing Mrs.Lansbury's scones to one side. Mrs. Lansbury eyed the intruding pastries warily, while the others in attendance politely took one of each, trying to avoid a culinary confrontation.

"This room is so beautiful," Leticia said admiringly. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Lansbury replied. "Mr. Cassadine is a such a generous employer. He insisted that I have this tearoom in addition to my own rooms upstairs as a...personal refuge."

"She needed a place to hide..." "...from Katherine Bell," added Rheese and Gibbons.

Reginald rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it! It used to be that the help could hide in the kitchen whenever there was an annoying guest, but she managed to invade there too."

Cook bristled at the memory of that breach of her personal domain. She leaned over and whispered something to Wenders.

"I'm sorry, but that's out of the question dear," he replied. "Master Nikolas would have my head if I were to do such a thing. Besides, I think she can swim..."

"I swear that dreadful woman can fly, too," added Mrs. Lansbury.

"She certainly has a strong constitution," said Graciela.

"Don't I know it," muttered Reginald.

Mrs. Lansbury smiled. "Well, at least she's out of both of our homes, for the time being. And I must say that Master Stefan's taste in women has improved considerably...." She paused abruptly, and sniffed the air. "Goodness, what's that I smell?"

Rheese and Gibbons exchanged a look. "It smells like..." "...burning canvas," they said, and immediately left the room to investigate.

"Oh dear," worried Mrs. Lansbury, "I do hope that Mrs. Spencer isn't faking her death again. Master Stefan was so beside himself the last time that happened..."

"It was..." "... Ms. Davis' portrait," said Rheese and Gibbons, who'd reappeared at the door.

"I take it that Alexis and Stefan aren't getting along," observed Reginald.

"Not lately," agreed Wenders.

"Well, she's become a popular subject at the penthouse," said Graciela.

"Yeah," added Benny, "Mr. Corinthos talks about her all the time. I think he's trying to hire her as his lawyer."

"I thought Justus was his lawyer," said Reginald.

"Nah, they're on the outs," replied Johnny, from his self-appointed post at the door. "The boss says he's just not the same guy that he used to be."

Graciela turned to face Reginald. "Speaking of former penthouse occupants, how is Carly doing at your place?"

"Well, she's got everyone in an uproar, and there's a whole lot of crying going on. But otherwise, it's business as usual."

"Why the heck did she go over there, anyway?" asked Benny.

Cook took a large bite of her croissant and muttered something unintelligible to everyone except for Wenders, who smiled and blushed a lovely shade of scarlet.

"She claims that Jason kidnapped Michael and is hiding somewhere in Canada," replied Reginald.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Mrs. Lansbury, "Do you suppose that's true?"

"Geez, I thought the boss said Jason was in the Caribbean somewhere," mused Benny.

"Sounds like..." "...subterfuge." added Rheese and Gibbons.

"It's true," said Leticia, "he's not hiding in either one of those places. I should know, because I'm still helping take care of Michael."

"You mean they're still in town?" asked Reginald, as the group grew quiet in anticipation of the day's juiciest tidbit of gossip.

"Yes," Leticia replied. "Jason and Michael are staying at the Backburner."

A chorus of gasps filled the tearoom at the revelation and Reginald snapped his fingers.

"Of course!" he said, "No one would ever think of looking for them there!"