They are swimming in tarts. Blackberry jam tarts. Sugarplum-orange and apricot earl grey jam tarts. Pecan tarts. Rustic apple tarts. Peach and passion-fruit tarts.
And to seal the deal Jemma is holding her blowtorch--her favorite culinary tool--over a batch of lemon marscapone brulee tarts. Another bowl sits nearby, but when Hope surprises Jemma, she makes a sudden turn and nearly scorches the tart's intended--the raspberry sauce.
Disaster averted, Jemma turns her attention back to the tarts. Jemma has her usual glow that only a blow torch set steadily to work could induce.
Hope often secretly wonders if Jemma has ever put that blowtorch to use outside of the kitchen. Jemma had once hinted that there was an unfortunate fiery "accident" with her ex-husband's custom-made suits right before he left her for a younger woman.
Just the sight of Jemma with the blowtorch in hand usually gives Hope the urge to pray that all torch-related activities are confined to pastry only.
Hope looks around and feels secure the brulee is the only target.
Thank you, Jesus.
Because, at least for now, Jemma is tarting it up all over the place.