Death on a Platter (17 page)

“I like the maple leaf centerpiece,” Jane said.

“I had to travel really far to get those leaves,” Josie said. “They’re from our trees.”

“Too bad you couldn’t use poison ivy,” Ted said. “It’s so colorful this time of year.”

“Leaves of three, leave them be,” Jane chanted as Josie poured coffee into the grown-ups’ yellow cups.

Amelia fixed herself a glass of milk and said, “I want an end piece, Mom.”

Josie raised an eyebrow.

“Please?” Amelia said.

Josie cut her a fat corner with two buttery-crusted sides.

They took their first few bites in respectful silence, broken when Harry trotted into the kitchen. “Hi, big guy,” Ted said, and held out his hand. Harry sniffed it, then jumped into Ted’s lap. Ted scratched the cat’s ears with one hand and ate his cake with the other.

“I read somewhere that gooey butter cake started as a mistake,” he said.

“Wish my mistakes turned out this well,” Josie said.

“That’s the story my mother told me,” Jane said. “She said gooey butter cakes were invented in South St. Louis. Those old German neighborhoods had great bakers. Still do. Mother said this baker tried to make a plain yellow cake, but he put in too much butter or sugar or maybe both. Anyway, he overdid it and ended up with a gooey mess. This was during the Great Depression when people didn’t waste things. They also weren’t obsessed with calories.”

“Ah, the good old days,” Josie said.

Jane glared at her and Josie stuffed in another bite.

“As I was saying,” Jane continued, “the baker covered his mistake with powdered sugar and sold it as gooey butter cake. Soon he was making more mistakes and getting paid for them.”

“And gooey butter cakes spread like cellulite on fat thighs,” Josie said.

“I prefer to think of them as happy accidents that were repeated,” Jane said. “I hope Gooey Louie qualifies for your TAG Tour, Josie. Gooey butter cakes don’t sell well outside of St. Louis.”

“Not sure that’s true anymore, Mom,” Josie said. “Gooey Louie has been on the Food Channel and some big-time foodies wrote about it.”

Amelia finished one crust and was working on the other. “This gooey butter cake tastes different than yours, Grandma.”

Not only different, Josie thought, it tastes better. She banished that traitorous thought. She’d never hurt her mother by saying it. She stuffed more cake in her mouth in case she was tempted to talk.

Jane slowly chewed her next bite, as if breaking down the ingredients. “More vanilla.”

Amelia took a thoughtful bite. “Maybe more butter,” she said, “but it’s not heavy.”

Josie decided this discussion was too technical. Eating seemed her safest response.

“Well, that was good to the last bite.” Jane delicately blotted her lips with her napkin. “Now it’s time for me to go upstairs. Thank you, Ted, for a lovely treat.” She kissed him lightly on his unscratched cheek and left.

They heard Jane’s footsteps on the back stairs.

“What are you studying in school now, Mel?” Ted asked.

“The parts of the brain,” Amelia said.

“We ate brains for the TAG Tour,” Josie said.

“Gross, Mom.” Amelia sounded impatient. “I’m learning about the limbic system, Ted.” She closed her eyes and counted on her fingers. “There’s the thalamus, the hypothalamus, the amygdala, and the hippocampus.”

“Very good,” Ted said.

“The hippocampus is where they keep the hippos at the zoo,” Josie said.

Ted and Amelia groaned.

“That was awful, Mom,” Amelia said. She turned to Ted as if he were the only adult in the room. “I’m starting my own business and I wanted to ask your opinion.”

New business? Amelia didn’t say a word about this during the ride home from school this afternoon, Josie thought. Her crafty kid must be setting some sort of trap. She watched Ted’s response.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Dog walking,” Amelia said. “What do you think, Ted?”

Hm
. The little slick didn’t ask, “What do you think, Mom?” She was using Ted as a buffer to debut her idea.

“Do you like walking dogs?” he asked.

“I’m good at it. I’ve had practice walking Stuart Little.”

“Winter’s coming, so you could make some money,” Ted said. “How does your mother feel about this business?”

Good move, Ted, Josie thought. He’d skillfully maneuvered his way around Amelia’s first landmine.

“Mom?” Amelia asked.

“This is the first I’ve heard of your plan,” Josie said. “Are you going to walk the dogs before school or after?” Amelia was no morning person.

“I’d like to do it right after school,” Amelia said, “while it’s still light.”

“Smart,” Ted said. “But winter dog walking is cold work. You know you’ll have to scoop.”

“I do that for Stuart Little for free,” Amelia said. “I could get paid.”

“Will you handle big dogs or little ones?” Ted said.

“Mostly little dogs,” Amelia said. “I’ve scouted all the dogs for three blocks. I’ve counted two Chihuahuas, a Yorkie, and two old golden retrievers. They’re big, but too fat to cause any trouble.”

“What do you know about their owners?” Ted asked.

“The Chihuahua belongs to a business lady who gets home late. So does the Yorkie. They might hire me. One of the retrievers belongs to an old, old lady. She doesn’t leave the house much, so she might hire me. I just thought of one more. There’s a brick house with a white Scottie dog.”

“I think that’s a Westie,” Ted said. “A West Highland terrier. The owners like it when you know the breed’s real name. Westies are good dogs. One of my patients, Teddy, ate a pinecone. The pinecone got stuck in its intestine and I had to operate to remove it. Teddy recovered, then went out and ate another pinecone. Those two meals cost his owner more than two thousand dollars.”

“Dumb dog,” Amelia said. “I’d find one who didn’t like pinecones.”

“Would you really?” Ted asked. “Did you abandon Harry when he needed a vet?”

“No,” Amelia said.

“I didn’t think so. Teddy’s owner felt the same way.”

“You think my business is a good one, right?” Amelia said.

“I think the idea is good, but it needs a little work. You should put together a business plan. Think about how many dogs you want to walk and what you want to charge, and then make a flyer to get your customers.”

“I can do the flyer on my computer,” Amelia said.

“Good,” Ted said. “I’ll be happy to read it when you’re ready to unleash it.”

“That was an awful pun,” Josie said.

“It will require dogged persistence for you to succeed, Mel,” Ted said.

“It’s time to paws,” Josie said. “You have school in the morning.”

Amelia didn’t protest. “Good night,” she said. “Stay away from savage felines, Ted.”

“I’ll try not to let any more kittens beat me up,” he said.

Harry jumped off Ted’s lap to follow Amelia to her room. She waved good night and shut her door.

“Thanks for talking to Amelia about her business,” Josie said.

“I hope I didn’t discourage her,” Ted said.

“You gave her some good ideas and things to think about. She’ll listen to you,” Josie said. “I’m just a mom.”

They could hear Amelia giggling with her cat.

“Harry is her faithful friend,” Josie said. “He’s like a puppy dog.”

“I’d like to be your faithful friend,” Ted said, his arm around her. He kissed her lightly, then more forcefully. “I want to be more than a friend, if you’ll let me. You know I love you.”

Josie felt frightened. Was he going to propose? Right in her kitchen over a demolished gooey butter cake? She felt trapped, panicky.

“You already are,” Josie said. “My friend, I mean. Tillie’s Off the Hill is reopening. Will you go with me?”

“I’d follow you into hell,” Ted said.

“Tillie’s restaurant will be enough,” Josie said.

Six fifty-two in the morning. Josie had had a sleepless night, but she couldn’t wait a minute longer to call Alyce. Her friend answered on the first ring.

“What’s wrong?”Alyce asked. She knew Josie wouldn’t call this early without a good reason.

“I need help,” Josie said. “I thought Ted was going to propose last night, but I headed him off. Now we’re going out again tonight. I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Alyce said.

“Marriage. I need to talk to someone neutral. I can’t discuss this with Mom. She’s pushing me to marry Ted. She’s already measured him for a son-in-law suit. Mom has always wanted me to marry, even though her marriage wasn’t a success.”

“Your father deserted you, didn’t he?” Alyce asked.

“He left Mom and me in St. Louis, gave her this house, and started another family in Chicago. We haven’t heard from him since I was nine.”

“I’d say that’s an unsuccessful marriage,” Alyce said.

“You know my history. I haven’t had much luck with men. I need to talk to someone who’s happily married.”

“Honey, if you think this old married lady can give you romantic advice, I’ll be happy to talk to you. Stop by after you drop off Amelia at school. I’ll make breakfast and we can dish.”

Josie felt better as soon as she hung up the phone. Alyce would tell her the truth and help Josie decide her future. Despite the sleepless night, she was energized. Josie hurried Amelia through breakfast, then made sure she fed the cat and cleaned his litter box. She had Amelia in the car ten minutes early. Amelia wasn’t happy about being rushed through her morning routine.

“So what do you think of my idea to make money, Mom?”

“It’s a good one,” Josie said, trying to make the light before it turned yellow. A rusty orange Datsun cut her off and she hit the brakes. Josie automatically put out her arm to protect her daughter.

“Mom, I’m wearing a seat belt. I’m not a baby,” Amelia said. “I asked you about dog walking.”

The light changed to green, but the traffic crawled forward. They’d moved only two car lengths by the time it turned red again.

Something is slowing those cars down, Josie thought. A rush-hour fender bender? I’d better find a side road or we’ll sit here all morning.

“So talk to me,” Josie said. If she could get to the corner, a right turn would take her through a subdivision and get her back out on Lindbergh.

“I think walking dogs on Washington Avenue after midnight would bring in major money,” Amelia said. “I could thumb my way downtown. I know some kids who’d buy me beer, too. That would make the job go faster.”

“Um-hm,” Josie said. She eased the car around the corner and narrowly avoided a clueless pedestrian talking on his Bluetooth.

“Mom!” Amelia made the word a four-syllable complaint. “You didn’t hear a word I said.”

“Of course I did,” Josie said. “You were talking about walking dogs.”

“At midnight on Washington Avenue while drinking beer.”

“I’m sorry,” Josie said. “I’m distracted by the traffic. It must be a full moon. People seem to have a death wish today, Amelia.”

“My name’s Mel.” Her voice was loaded with preteen pout.

She’s still on the Mel kick, too, Josie thought. “Go ahead, tell me about walking dogs.”

“Never mind,” Amelia said, dragging the word out to show her disgust. She sulked the rest of the way to school. Josie was grateful for the silence. It helped her concentrate. She wasn’t really distracted by the traffic. Ted was driving her crazy.

Josie got to Barrington with time to spare and threaded through the semicircular drive. “There’s your friend Emma.” Josie smiled and waved. Emma waved back.

Amelia slammed the car door without saying good-bye and flounced toward her friend. Josie sighed with relief and aimed her car for the highway.

Fall was a favorite season. She should have savored the drive to Alyce’s subdivision. The fiery fall colors blazed against the white limestone hills. Today, Josie hardly noticed. She pulled up at the gate to the Estates at Wood Winds, waved to the guard, and headed to Alyce’s house like a homing pigeon in a Honda.

When she knocked on Alyce’s side door, she was greeted with the rich aroma of hot coffee, baking apples, and warm caramel.

“Morning!” Alyce hugged her friend. Her eyes were the same blue as the September sky. She wore a soft blue caftan. Her natural blond hair was pale as a child’s.

“What smells so good?” Josie asked.

“I’m trying out my new
ebelskiver
,” Alyce said.

“Gesundheit!” Josie said.

“
Ebelskiver
is a Danish pan.” Alyce proudly pointed to an aluminum skillet with tennis-ball-sized holes, each filled with a puffy golden-brown confection. “Those are filled pancakes.”

“You’ve been hitting Williams-Sonoma again,” Josie said.

“Caught. I’m a kitchen junkie.” Her kitchen was crammed with arcane culinary equipment.

“Admitting it is the first step,” Josie said, “but I hope there’s no cure.”

Alyce’s kitchen was paneled in linen-fold oak. Even the cabinets and the fridge were hidden by the golden oak. It was Alyce’s refuge and her place of inspiration.

“I’m practicing on you this morning,” Alyce said. “I want to make tarte tatin filled pancakes for Jake this Saturday. We’re eating the inaugural batch.”

She did a Vanna White wave at two white plates piled with golden puffs. “The pancakes are stuffed with caramelized apples. The extra caramel sauce is almost ready. And look at this. I have a new apple divider.”

She was as excited by the spidery device as a teenager with a new iPad.

“I assume it slices apples,” Josie said.

“It cores and cuts apples into the thin slices I need for the pancakes. Or I can adjust it to make thicker apple wedges. Justin likes to eat those.”

“Where is the little guy?” Josie asked.

“He and Gracie are walking Bruiser. Let me drizzle some caramel sauce on those pancakes, take the new batch out of the pan, and we’re ready.”