The Obituary Society (8 page)

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Authors: Jessica L. Randall

BOOK: The Obituary Society
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Max gave her his signature smirk, then turned on the mixer and began to beat, adding powdered sugar that dusted his face and shirt.   He kept beating until soft peaks formed.  His arms were wiry but muscular, his motions confident, as though he'd been a certified cream-whipper his whole life.  Max glanced at her and she turned quickly to clear the mess from the island, hoping he hadn't noticed her watching him.

Lila had always been a food lover, but she realized she'd never experienced food, really, until she moved here.  Her mother was more of a fast meals kind of gal, so that's how Lila had cooked for her grandpa.  She could whip something up quickly with whatever was available, but there was something missing in the quality.  No one had ever shown her what real cooking was about.  People here used real, and often fresh ingredients.  Taking extra time to create a dish was a way of showing love.               

You couldn't worry about calories when you ate here.  For one thing you might offend someone, or they would look at you funny and find you deficient.  But most importantly, food like that, made from scratch from recipes that went back more generations than you could count, just insisted that you eat and enjoy it. 

When someone in Auburn offered Lila a piece of homemade cake or a buttery dinner roll, she knew she was accepting the neighbor as well as the food.  It felt like she was taking back the heritage her parents had left behind, one bite at a time.  She might, however, have to take up running to balance things out.  She'd put on four pounds since her arrival.   

Juniper had hurried back in at the sound of the mixer.  She jumped up and down, grabbing for the beaters.  Max handed them to her.  She thrust one into Lila's hand. Amazed, Lila watched as Juniper's tongue made itself longer and more agile than she would have thought possible in order to lick every bit of white cream off the difficult to reach places.

Lila didn't think she was up to the task, or at least it seemed to be an improper display for an adult under the circumstances.  She politely licked at her beater, and the cream was thick and sweet and drippy and not at all like anything you buy in a plastic tub.


Come on, Lila.”  Juniper was scornful.  “Can't you do better than that?  You missed some.”

Lila laughed, throwing caution to the wind.  There was something motivating about being put to shame by a six year old.  She suddenly remembered being six herself, and felt the need to fight for her inner child's honor.  She stuck her tongue out and ran it along the cold underside of the metal, making sure to get every drop.  It was a difficult job, especially since she hadn't been able to finish her hair this morning, and it kept falling forward into the cream.

She blushed when she caught Max staring.  He blinked and cleared his throat.  “Nicely done.”

She licked the corner of her mouth.  “I've never had real whipped cream before.”
There was that look again.  Something between disbelief and pity.

She shrugged, and Max's expression turned to something like 'I'm glad things have finally been put right.'  He pointed to her hair, making circular motions with his finger.  “You've got a little—.”

He grabbed a towel and his hand hovered near her, as if he wasn't sure whether to wipe it off for her or hand her the towel.  She took it from him.

Before long, two golden crusts piled with thick cream and strawberries were ready to freeze.  Perhaps it wasn't an old family recipe, and hopefully no one would make a point of the fact that the crackers were “store-bought.”  They looked like a labor of love anyway. 

Chapter 11

Rocky Mountain Oysters

 

             

The first thing Lila noticed was the breathtaking effect of hundreds of tiny flags stuck into the ground around the perimeter of the park.  The second thing that caught her attention was the crowd.  Apparently the people of Auburn knew how to shut down their tractors and leave their corn fields and begonias to fend for themselves long enough to gather for a celebration every now and again.  Lila hadn't realized there were this many people in the little town.  Some sat in the pavilion, talking and laughing, while others milled around the craft booths.  Most of the younger people were engaged in a game of volleyball on the other side of the park or sprawled out in the shade eating snow cones. 

Juniper ran off to the playground, where little ones climbed on every surface of a tornado slide like ants, hung from monkey bars they could barely reach, and whipped around on a merry-go-round with stomachs full of cotton candy.  It was a wonder none of them were doubled over puking in the grass. 

Lila found Ada with the ladies, setting out desserts on a long table and glancing around nervously. 

“Here are the strawberry desserts you ordered.”  She presented the cooler to Ada.


Thank you so much, dear.”  Ada gave her friends a composed smile.  “Lila insisted on helping with the treats.  She wants to learn to cook, you know.”

The ladies clucked and nodded approvingly, although some of them eyed Ada with suspicion.  They knew her well enough to be surprised that she allowed someone to help with the bake-sale desserts, but also well enough not to ask. 

Betsy Barker's half-moon brows lifted as she peeked inside.  “It's not a cake?  That's different.  We've certainly never sold a frozen dessert before.”

Ada raised her nose.  “Well, you know how I like to shake things up every so often, Betsy.”

“All I'm saying is I hope they don't melt all over the place.”


Don't you worry, they'll sell before they have a chance to melt,” Ada responded stiffly.

Matilda delicately lifted one of the desserts out and inspected it.  “That's our Ada.  Always the trend setter.”

Lila stifled a laugh.  “It looks like you ladies have everything under control here.”                She'd just turned away when Gladys caught her arm with a claw-like hand.  The sun had tinted her large glasses dark grey and set her silvery-purple hair aglow.  She thrust a wad of bills at Lila. 


I saw you drive in with Max.  Will you make sure he gets this?  I'd like to buy lunch for the two of you and my June-Bug”


Thanks, but—“


Now, I insist.  It's a thank-you for helping me with my grocery shopping.  Besides, I've made it my goal to get some meat on your bones.” 

Ada bristled.  “You think I'm not feeding her, Gladys?  Or maybe she doesn't like my cooking?  You should see that girl eat.  She's lucky she happens to be built like her mother.” 

Lila sighed and thanked Gladys, leaving her to smooth things over with Ada.  She wandered toward the playground to find Max.  It looked like Gladys wasn't going to give up on trying to set her up with her grandson.  Lila liked Max much better than she had expected, but he wasn't the kind of guy she could see herself with.  He was honest and direct, characteristics that were both admirable and trying.  She briefly imagined them living out their lives together as one of those old couples that constantly argued.  

Max stood in the shade of a maple tree watching Juniper hang from the mouth of the slide, where she could grab at any child so conventional as to go down it in such a traditional manner.

“It's not nearly to the point of intervention, right?” he asked.  “You're not judging me as a parent.”

She felt proud that she understood his sense of humor now, like she had cracked a code, and didn't take offense.  “Certainly not.  I'm definitely getting a “Lord of the Flies” vibe over here, though.”  She folded her arms and rubbed at them as if she had chills.  “I'm not sure adults are welcome.”

“Here.”  She tucked the money into the pocket of his plaid shirt.  “Your grandma would like to treat us all to dinner.”

He pulled it out and whistled as he flipped through it.  “We should definitely dine well on this.”

Max cupped his hands around his mouth.  “Junie!  Juniper!”  She didn't so much as glance at her father, so he bravely waded through the swarm of kids to speak to her.

He shook a boy off his pant leg and returned.  “You're fine as long as you don't show fear.  She's not ready to eat yet.  I say we let her expel some of that energy.  You don't want to try to contain her when she gets like that.”

They walked back around the pavilion, which had a kitchen attached to one side and a large outdoor grill nearby.  The smokey scent wafted toward them.  “Most of the food is cooked here.”  Max pointed to a menu that included a burger or chicken sandwich, and fries or chips.  “There are some more colorful offerings, though.”
He led her to a cart where a man in a white t-shirt and a canvas apron was frying something that smelled delicious.  Lila judged him to be in his late thirties.  His face was dark with stubble but his eyes were bright, his expression eager to please. 


Doug, he owns the diner, fries up his Rocky Mountain Oysters every year,” Max said.  “He orders them special.  It's usually more of a novelty food, but it's become a tradition, mostly for the men, who like to make a big thing of it and beat their chests, all of that.”


I've heard of that,”  Lila said.  “I'm up for trying something new.”

Max screwed up his face at her, but she was used to getting odd looks whenever she said she hadn't tasted something here.  He rubbed his chin.  “You sure?  You know what this is, right?”

“Yes.  Let's go for it.”


Okay, then.”  Max stepped up and caught Doug's attention.  “Doug, make us up a batch.”  He dropped a five dollar bill in the tin can.

Doug looked up and froze a moment when he saw Lila smiling there.  He looked back at Max.

Max chuckled, raising his palms.  “It's what the lady ordered.  This is Lila, by the way.”


Lila, you are in for a treat,” Doug said. 

As the oil bubbled and fizzed, some of the men gathered closer to watch.  Doug handed over the greasy white cardboard container, a grin filling half his face. 

Lila looked around her at the amused and expectant spectators with uncertainly.  “What's the big deal?”


It's just that women don't usually order this,” Max answered.  “It turns their noses.  Not that I blame them.”


A boy's club thing, huh?” Lila grabbed one and let it cool in her hand a moment before popping it in her mouth and looking defiantly around her.

The group erupted in cheers and laughter.  A bearded guy thumped her on the back.  “This one's a keeper.”

They walked on as Lila ate another one.  “I still don't see what the big deal is.  I eat seafood all the time.  These don't really taste fishy, though.  And the texture is different.”

Max froze, then turned slowly, staring at her.  “You said you knew.”  His eyes darted, as if he were looking for an escape route.  “Don't kill me.  I thought you knew.”

A bald, round-faced man stepped up to them.  He grinned at Lila.  “Well?”

She stiffened, a look of confusion on her face.  “These are?”

“Yup.”  His voice was gruff and loud, but he beamed at her.  “Bull's Balls.”

Lila dropped the greasy lump back into the container and gawked, unable to move.  She felt the repulsive food slithering down to her stomach. 

She scowled at Max, who backed away slowly.  “I need to go check on Juniper.  I'll, uh, take those.”  He snatched the container from her hand and thrust them at the round-faced man.  Max put a hand over his mouth, making a show of rubbing his chin.  He turned and hurried away like he'd just tried to pass off Twinkies as home-baked at the bake sale.  She had said he should laugh more often.  She hadn't meant it should be directed at her.

Lila stood glaring until he disappeared into the crowd.  That was the problem with Max.  If she wasn't offending him he was infuriating her.  She thought about what she had just swallowed, and a queasy feeling washed over her, but she resisted the urge to find a quiet place to throw up.

After taking a moment to let her stomach settle, curiosity got the best of her, and she went to see how the strawberry dessert had gone over at the Ladies' Society booth.  There was a good-sized crowd over there, and permed heads and wrinkled hands could be seen popping up to hand over cakes and cookies or collect money. 
She made her way to Ada, whose mood had vastly improved, judging by the twinkle in her eyes.  One of the pans was empty, and Ada had started dishing out the second strawberry dessert. 

The table was a sight to behold, with homemade breads, fruit pies topped with thick cream, delicate cookies, fudge brownies and lemon bars dusted with sugar.  Lila eyed a two-layered yellow cake with a hunk taken out, showing chocolate frosting in the middle as well as generously piled on top.  It all looked delicious, only she wasn't sure she trusted her stomach just yet.

Ada greeted Lila, then looked over her shoulder, her fingers twisting together.  She whispered, “There's Elmer Greene.  I hope he's not disappointed.  You can't eat frozen dessert for breakfast, can you?”


As a general rule, I draw the line at cake,” Lila teased.  Ada didn't appear to notice.

The crowd had thinned a bit by the time Elmer made it to the table.  He held onto one strap of his good overalls and cleared his throat.

“What have you got for me this year, Ada?”


Well Hello, Elmer.  Have you met my niece, Lila?”

Lila held out her hand and Elmer shook it firmly.  She could feel the callouses of years of hard work.  He smelled faintly of aftershave, and it was easy to see that he had scrubbed his hands and fingernails as clean as he could get them, but some traces of oil still stuck stubbornly deep under the nails.   

“Good to meet you, Lila.  I understand I'll be doing some work for you.”

She smiled.  “It's nice to meet you too, Elmer.  Yep, I couldn't let that opportunity pass me by.”

Ada put a hand on Lila's arm.  “Lila wanted to help with our fundraiser this year, and she hoped you'd try the frozen strawberry dessert she made.”


Well, I had a little help.”


Let's have some of that, then,” Elmer replied, dropping a bill into the pink money box.  Lila noticed it was a twenty, and picked through the box for change, but Elmer stopped her.

Ada served Elmer a double helping of dessert and handed him a plastic fork.  He stuck the fork in right then and there, and both women watched carefully as he took the first bite.  If Elmer liked it they had succeeded. 

Elmer chewed slowly and thoughtfully.  As he swallowed he looked up with large, clear blue eyes that practically smiled.  “Say, that is real good, ladies.  How about you cut a couple more pieces for me and I'll drive it home and put it in the fridge for my brother.” 

Ada snickered.  “We all know you haven't got a brother, Elmer.  But we'll certainly do that for you.” 

Elmer winked and thanked her as Ada wrapped the dessert up on a styrofoam plate.  She smiled  peacefully as he walked away, then whispered into Lila's ear.  “Thank you, dear.  Everyone's happy.  It's been a good day after all.  Even if Eddie Barker did bring margarine instead of butter for the pancakes this morning.  He knows better.  Everyone can tell the difference.  I thought Betsy was going to kill him.” 

Lila silently forgave Max for the “oyster” incident, remembering the close call with the Cool-Whip.  She nudged Ada.  “I'm not sure it's really the desserts that Elmer's sweet on, you know.” 

“Oh!”  Ada scowled and swatted at her.  Lila giggled.

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