Kitabı oku: «A Slice of Magic», sayfa 4

Chapter 6

Day 5 ― Sunday, November 6th

Dear Elodie,

Let me open by saying I do not like cats. They’re creepy and hairy and their eyes always look angry. All my nightmares usually feature a cat. They are truly horrifying, even when they’re kittens. That being said, in general, I am quite the animal lover. What I don’t love is when people let their animals run free. There is a cat in the neighborhood that just wanders the streets. She apparently has a home, but the woman who owns her can’t keep her contained and doesn’t seem to understand what a huge problem that is. I keep seeing the cat outside my door, and she’s not bothered when I try to shoo her away.

Should I call animal control or just suck it up and accept that I’m going to be tormented by this cat on a regular basis?

Sincerely,

Crazy Cat-less Lady

Dear Crazy Cat-less Lady,

You didn’t say if you’ve directly spoken with the cat’s owner. Maybe you can explain to her your concerns for the cat. You could also try recommending that she find a new home for it if she doesn’t have the time to take care of it properly. Calling animal control seems a little extreme. Perhaps you should also consider talking to a professional who can help you work through your deep dislike of cats.

Ask and I’ll Answer,

Elodie

The next day started out with a bang, quite literally. I heard a loud crash in the kitchen and went running downstairs in my polka dot pajamas with Mitzy close at my heels. I slid down the last few stairs and fell through the door at the bottom.

I startled a twenty-something year old man who was stacking boxes that had fallen off his dolly. He let out a little squeak and jumped back making his straight brown hair flop into his large green eyes.

‘Who are you?’ I demanded as Mitzy, the ever-helpful guard dog, hid behind my feet.

‘I’m Stan,’ he said, composing himself.

‘Why are you in my kitchen, Stan?’ I demanded, searching the counter tops for a weapon, but the kitchen was obnoxiously clean. Thanks, mystery night cleaners.

‘I’m the delivery guy. You must be the niece.’ He spoke in a soft voice, and I had to lean in a little to hear him. He extended his hand, ignoring my hostile tone. He was very tall and very skinny. I wondered briefly if I could get him to check the attic space in Aunt Erma’s apartment for the pie recipes I still hadn’t found.

‘Oh,’ I said, feeling a little silly. I had seen ‘Delivery Day’ written on Aunt Erma’s calendar, but I assumed the delivery would happen during my waking hours. I shook his hand, which was a little cold and clammy, and he went back to stacking up the boxes and sacks of flour. ‘You deliver on a Sunday?’

‘We might be a small town, but this is still a pretty happening place,’ he said.

‘What are you delivering?’

He glanced over at the clipboard he had set down on the counter. ‘Flour, sugar, brown sugar, blueberries, strawberries, apples, chocolate, cream, eggs, butter, coffee, and canned pumpkin.’ He ticked them off. ‘I will have to get some of these things in the fridge right away.’

‘Why does that one box say “frozen peas” on it?’ I asked, pointing.

‘Oh, fiddling fiddlesticks,’ Stan exclaimed. I tried to hide my smile at his very G-rated agitation. ‘I must have grabbed the wrong boxes this morning,’ he explained. ‘I’m going to have to go back to the warehouse to get the right ones.’

He began to stack the boxes back on his two-wheeler. For such a skinny guy, he seemed to be very strong, lifting large boxes as though they were empty.

‘Wait, that one says butter on it,’ I said, pointing at the box he was holding. He flipped it around to read it.

‘Oh, you’re right. I must have gotten some of the right boxes. Hurray!’ He sorted the boxes into two piles. One to return to the warehouse, and one to leave with me. In the end I got the flour, the pumpkin, half the order of strawberries, and one stick of butter. I don’t know how it happened, but the large box labeled butter only had one stick inside. Stan made notes amending the delivery on his sheet, and I signed it. He left after assuring me that he would return with the rest of the order for the pie shop, eventually.

He said he had to get Bob his delivery because ‘you know how Bob can get,’ and then he would swing by the next six stops because they were right on the way back to the warehouse. Somewhere in there he figured he would probably need lunch because when his blood sugar got low he forgot to use his turn signal and apparently Sheriff Buddy had been ticketing people lately for not using their turn signal.

After he left, I grabbed the sack of flour to put it away and fell over because it was so heavy. How did Aunt Erma do this at her age? Mitzy, well-trained in health code regulations, understood that she needed to stay out of the kitchen and sat watching me from the bottom of the stairs where I had left the door open after my less than graceful entrance.

I checked my supplies. I was not going to get through the day without the rest of the delivery, but Stan didn’t inspire a lot of confidence that he would return in a timely fashion. I was going to have to venture out to the grocery store.

At the store, I grabbed a cart and frantically began throwing things inside. Apples, bananas, blueberries, sugar, butter. Anything that looked like it might go into a pie went in my cart. I wondered if the same person who kept cleaning the kitchen would also assemble these ingredients into delicious pies. Like the story, The Elves and the Shoemaker. I could try leaving all the ingredients on the counter tonight and maybe I’d wake up to completely baked pies. I could almost hear Aunt Erma gasp in horror when I grabbed an armload of frozen pie crusts and tossed them in the cart. On a whim, I threw in a frozen pizza for dinner tonight.

‘You seem to be doing a good job on the fruits, but your cart could really use a few more leafy greens.’ I heard a voice say behind me. I turned around and saw a woman in a Basil’s Market apron studying my cart. Her name tag said, ‘Luanne.’ She was an older woman, probably around Aunt Erma’s age, with chin-length gray hair that had a bright blue streak through it. She was thin and looked like someone who had spent a lot of time doing yoga.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘I could grab you some kale, maybe a little romaine. Then you could make a nice salad to go along with your dinner.’ She motioned towards the frozen pizza.

‘Mom, leave her alone.’ Holly appeared from around the corner, also wearing a Basil’s Market apron.

‘Humph.’ The older woman stomped off, grumbling.

‘Sorry about my mother,’ Holly said. ‘She thinks everyone is her child.’

‘No problem,’ I laughed. ‘She’s right. I don’t get enough vegetables.’

‘How are things going at the pie shop?’ she asked.

‘I haven’t burned the place down yet. That’s about the extent of my accomplishments so far,’ I said.

‘You sound like you need a night out. Want to grab drinks with me on Tuesday?’ she asked. ‘Sal’s should be open.’

‘Sounds great,’ I said. We made plans to meet up in a couple of days, and I hurried to finish my shopping.

I dumped all my groceries in the kitchen and ran upstairs. I poured myself a giant mug of coffee, got a quick pep talk from Mitzy and her tail, and rushed back down to get to work.

I lined up all the ingredients for the first pie on the counter. With a deep breath, I tried to channel my inner Aunt Erma. I left the back door unlocked, but not open. I was hoping Henry would stop by. I could use both his company and his baking expertise today.

The pumpkin pie recipe looked easy enough, so I began with that. The only thing I found a little confusing was the evaporated milk. I pulled the gallon of milk I had bought out of the fridge. How in the world do you evaporate milk? After a quick search on the internet I found that I could have just bought cans of something called evaporated milk. I let out a frustrated sigh. I should have been watching the cooking channel more often.

Luckily there were also recipes for turning regular milk into evaporated milk. It didn’t look hard, and I decided it would be easier than heading back to the grocery store. I didn’t want another lecture from Holly’s mother. I measured the milk and put it on the stove to simmer and turned my attention back to the other ingredients. I mixed things together for the pumpkin pie filling. The preparation time listed at the top of the recipe mocked my slowness. At least the pie crusts were already prepared. I thought of the frozen ones in the freezer.

I was daydreaming about being back in my pajamas when I noticed a burning smell. I turned around just in time to see the milk boiling over onto the stove. It happened so fast. Boiled milk spread all across the stove sizzling as it hit the hot burner and filled the shop with a terrible smell.

On a positive note, this could probably be considered one of the regular tests of the smoke detectors that the firefighters advised me to conduct. The ear-piercing beeps filled the shop as I turned off the stove and frantically waved a towel at the ceiling. They turned off quickly, but I called the fire department just to make sure they wouldn’t come out again.

A woman with a raspy voice answered. I explained what had happened. I heard a strange noise. Was she laughing?

‘Hold please,’ she said. She must have just put her hand over the receiver because I could hear her recounting the story I had just told her.

‘She should open an ice cream shop for the safety of everyone in town,’ someone shouted. More roaring laughter.

‘I’m still here,’ I shouted into the phone.

The woman came back on the line and asked me if I was sure there wasn’t any fire anywhere.

‘No, nothing. I’m sorry to bother you,’ I said a little bitterly.

‘Talk to you tomorrow,’ she said and hung up.

I was running out of time before the shop was supposed to open, and all I had was six half-made pumpkin pies. I grabbed my coat off the hook and took off through the back door towards the grocery store. As I ran, people stopped and stared, but I didn’t have time to worry about that now. I rushed through the aisles of the store until I found the evaporated milk. I grabbed an armful of cans and headed to the checkout where Luanne was waiting for me.

‘Back again?’ she asked.

‘Yup,’ I said breathlessly.

‘You know what you need to try?’ She carefully examined each can before scanning it.

A grocery store with a self-checkout lane? I thought. ‘What?’ I asked, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.

‘You should try using almond milk as a substitute for evaporated milk.’ She paused and held the second to the last can she needed to scan in her hands. ‘I’ve heard that you can boil it down and not only is it healthier because it’s plant based, but I bet it would give your pies a lovely nutty flavor.’ She was still holding the can in her hand.

‘I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.’ I held cash in my hand, hoping it would speed her up.

‘Would you like to run back and grab some almond milk now?’ she asked earnestly. ‘It’s just right back there next to the regular milk.’

‘No, thanks.’ I was hopping from one leg to another as my impatience grew. ‘I’m kind of in a hurry.’

‘Oh.’ She looked offended. ‘I just thought you might like a little friendly advice, that’s all.’ She scanned the can in her hand. One more to go. ‘You could probably try it with soy milk too,’ she offered.

‘Maybe next time, thanks.’ I threw my money down on the counter and grabbed the cans she had scanned.

‘Wait, I can bag those for you,’ she said.

‘No need,’ I called over my shoulder, and with that, I was out the door. More heads turned, and people pointed as I ran down the street. They were probably just marveling at my speed. I ran on the cross-country team for a few weeks in high school. As I recall, I could hold my own. I eventually quit the team though because I realized how boring it was to run for longer than ten minutes at time.

The pie shop still smelled like burnt milk when I got back. I considered lighting a candle, but couldn’t risk having an open flame.

I froze as I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the stainless-steel refrigerator. I was still wearing my purple sparkly apron. Even more horrifying, I was still wearing my hairnet. Great, now I was going to be the crazy hairnet lady.

I didn’t have time to worry about that now though. I opened the back door all the way to air out the smell and quickly got to work. I had six pumpkin pies completed by the time I was unlocking the front door. They looked a little lumpy, but I figured I could cover that up with a heaping pile of whipped cream.

I wrote pumpkin pie in big letters on the chalkboard out front and mentally practiced my spiel selling it so by the time I was done people wouldn’t even want any other kind of pie.

I greeted each customer that came in with a, ‘Doesn’t this chilly fall day make you crave a piece of pumpkin pie?’ With most people, it worked. A few scrunched up their noses and left. I assured them that there would be a wider selection tomorrow. I hoped that was true. The Morning Pie Crew was very supportive.

‘I was craving pumpkin pie,’ Flora said.

‘Me too,’ Lena chimed in.

‘It’s a perfect choice to get us in the mood for Thanksgiving,’ Mr Barnes said.

But I saw the concerned glances they exchanged when they thought I wasn’t looking.

‘Are you giving these out?’ A woman with dark curly hair walked in holding a bright pink flyer. ‘There’s a box of them outside your door.’

She handed it to me, and I read the words, ‘Cookie Castle Grand Opening tomorrow! We have so many delicious options to choose from! Bring in this flier for a free cookie.’

‘No, I’m certainly not giving these out.’ I threw the flyer down on the counter. I noticed her pick it up, fold it, and stick it in her purse. I hurried outside and sure enough there was a large box of brightly colored fliers sitting next to the front door. I picked it up, grunting under the weight, carried it back through the kitchen, and dropped it on the floor by the desk.

Alice was going to hear about this.

I was washing dishes in the apartment while my pizza baked, wishing the mystery cleaners would clean upstairs, when my phone rang in the living room. I quickly dried my hands on a towel and threw myself across the sofa to reach my phone, answering it just before it went to voicemail. I was desperately hoping to hear Aunt Erma’s voice on the other end of the line.

‘Susie, where are you? We need you back here now,’ Hal’s booming voice demanded. I kicked myself for answering my phone without checking the caller ID first.

‘Sorry, Hal. I still need a few more days,’ I said, heading back to the kitchen.

‘The Steadmans picked different door knobs for their addition, and they want you to install them,’ he said.

‘Have Josh do it,’ I suggested.

‘They asked for you.’

‘I know they’re a big client,’ I moaned.

‘Our biggest.’

‘I’ll call them and apologize,’ I offered.

‘If you’re not back at work tomorrow, I’m going to have to fire you,’ Hal said.

I took a deep shaky breath. ‘I’m not going to be back tomorrow.’

‘I’m sorry, but you’re fired,’ he barked, not sounding sorry at all.

I hung up, tempted to throw my phone at the wall, but settled for letting out a frustrated growl instead.

I ran to the oven, suddenly remembering my pizza.

‘Son of a…’ I began and growled again instead of finishing that sentence with the intended expletive. I pulled it out of the toaster oven and picked around for a minute thinking that maybe I could find one corner to munch on to soothe my growling stomach, but nothing. The cheese on the top of the pizza was burned beyond edibility, and that was saying something because I wasn’t picky.

I had to get it out of the apartment. The burning smell was filling the space quickly. Even Mitzy looked disgusted and I had just seen her licking a place that certainly couldn’t smell like roses.

I grabbed the burnt pizza, carefully balancing it on the piece of cardboard and stomped down the stairs and out the back door. I threw the pizza in the dumpster and slammed the lid twice for good measure.

‘Whoa, what did the dumpster do to you?’ Henry appeared next to me, his eyes a little wide.

‘Trust me, he had it coming,’ I said. ‘Let that be a warning to you. Don’t get on my bad side.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ he said. His dark eyes twinkled with amusement and I stared into them perhaps a second longer than social convention allowed. He shifted the large tote bag he was carrying from one arm to the other. ‘How’s your night going? Do you want to talk about it? Or should I just tell you where all the other dumpsters in town are so you can beat them up too?’

‘I got fired from my job back home, I’m terrible at my job here, and I burnt my dinner,’ I said, motioning to the dumpster. ‘So that’s how my night’s going.’ I sighed and leaned back against the brick wall, crossing my arms against the cold. ‘Is the grocery store still open?’ I asked hopefully. If it wasn’t, I would have to eat pie for dinner. I knew no one was going to cry any tears for me over that, but I was really hoping for a good meal before the dessert portion of the evening.

He grimaced. ‘Sorry, they closed an hour ago.’ Of course they did. ‘But here,’ he said as he eagerly reached into his bag and produced a couple containers. ‘Take some of this food.’

‘I couldn’t,’ I said, but I smiled at his sweet, earnest offer.

‘No please, take some. There are a couple women at the nursing home who insist on cooking for me because I’m a single man, and despite the fact that I’ve cooked several meals at the nursing home when our cook calls in sick, they still don’t think I’m capable of doing anything with food other than eat it.’ He handed me the containers. ‘It’s a little old-fashioned if you ask me, but I haven’t been able to change their minds after all these years, and my freezer is full.’

‘OK,’ I agreed, after what I hoped was a polite hesitation.

‘And another plus,’ he added, ‘is that their food is always really soft, so you barely have to chew. That can be a nice bonus if you’re tired.’

I smiled. Whatever was in those containers had to be better than the stale crackers I had eaten as a snack this afternoon. I took the containers out of his hands.

‘Thank you. This is so nice,’ I said. He hesitated for a minute, and I wondered if I should invite him up. My head was still spinning after being fired and I wasn’t sure I was in the best mood for company, so I let the moment pass while wondering if I would regret it later.

He said goodbye and promised to stop in the next day for pie.