The Worst Romance Novel Ever Written (33 page)

“
Mama, this is so unfair!” Gloria whined. “Johnny, she was in the kitchen the entire time and could have corrected me.”

Marion shook her head. “But little Gloria didn’t want any help, just like Angel, so I let her fail. Ready?”

Johnny cleared his throat. “One cup butter, softened.”

“
Gloria took the stick out of the fridge and plunked it into the bowl,” Marion said. “Gloria can be a pretty loud cook.”

“
It loosened up eventually,” Gloria said.

“
Huge chunks,” Marion said. “All over the kitchen walls, the ceiling, and the floor when she turned on the mixer. Next?”

“
Half cup shortening,” Johnny said.

“
Full cup,” Marion said. “Guess she wanted to make it even more fattening.”

“
The slash and the two were smudged,” Gloria said.

“
Um, three cups granulated sugar,” Johnny said.

Marion nodded.

“
Five eggs beaten,” Johnny said.

“
Three,” Marion said.

“
The five looked like a three, I swear!” Gloria shouted.

Johnny didn’t want to continue.
Every time I speak, Gloria yells!

“
Read the next one, Johnny,” Marion said.

“
Um, three cups all-purpose flour.” Johnny braced for more shouting.

“
Three cups self-rising flour,” Marion said.

Gloria didn’t shout. “I was eight. I thought flour was flour. Geez.”

“
Um, half teaspoon baking powder,” Johnny said quickly.

“
Half tablespoon,” Marion said.

Gloria wasn’t making a cake,
Johnny thought.
She was making an edible bomb!
“Um, one pinch salt?”

“
She counted out fifteen grains of salt,” Marion said. “She said that was a pinch.”

“
It
is
a pinch,” Gloria said.

“
A pinch is when you use your thumb and two other fingers, Gloria,” Marion said. “No one counts the grains.”

But she was a business management major,
Johnny thought.
It makes perfect sense to me.
Johnny waited for more fireworks, heard none, and continued. “One cup milk and coconut, lemon, rum, butter, and vanilla extract.”

“
I didn’t let her get that far,” Marion said. “Milk and extracts are too expensive to waste. I did let her try to mix that mess together, and she almost burned the motor out of my favorite mixer.” She pointed to the blue flowery border over her cabinets. “I had to put up that border to cover up the oil spots from the flying butter. And you know what?”

I have no idea,
Johnny thought.
I was never allowed in the kitchen until dinnertime.

“
She looked at this lumpy, gooey, unmixed mess,” Marion said, “and she told me it was ready to bake and would I grease the pan for her.”

The butter would have melted in the oven, right?
Gloria thought. “Why did you let me fail so miserably, Mama?”

“
So you could learn from your mistakes,” Marion said. “You never cooked another bad cake after that one, did you?” Marion smiled. “Her double fudge brownies are to die for. You should ask her to make you some.”

“
So she can hog them all,” Gloria said.

“
I do not hog anything, Gloria,” Marion said.

“
Yes, you do,” Gloria said. “You’re hogging this conversation, aren’t you?”

Johnny stood and stretched. “I’ll, um, I’ll just go see how Angel is doing.”

Gloria stood. “While I make lunch.”

Johnny grimaced at Marion.

“
It’s okay, Johnny,” Marion said. “She’s a great cook now. Her soups are legendary. Go on. When you hear the smoke alarm shrieking, you’ll know lunch is ready.”

“
Mama!”

Johnny left the kitchen, and instead of hovering near Angel while she worked on the castle, he went to the front window and stared at his car.
Will somebody please steal it? It might actually be worth something if someone steals it. Wait. I have a $500 deductible. I’d lose money if anyone stole it. Will somebody please run into it? I’m sure it’s worth at least $200 in scrap metal.

“
What are you doing?” Angel asked.

Oh, just trying to set a trap for my smart little mouse.
Johnny didn’t turn around. “Just looking at all the leaves that need to be raked.”
All three of them. That oak tree in Marion’s yard is anemic. Can trees get anemia? Maybe the wind blew them all away.

“
I’m almost halfway through,” Angel said.

Yes, little mouse. Keep trying to engage the disinterested man at the window.
“Hmm.”

“
It’s not that hard,” Angel said with a sigh.

“
Hmm.”
Was that a frustrated sigh? I think it was. Every genius throughout history has had to have an audience of some kind. It’s no fun being brilliant all by your lonesome.

“
I can do thousand-piece puzzles, too.”

What can I say to exasperate her? Oh yeah, what Mrs. Holiday often said to me.
“That’s nice, dear.”

“
Well, don’t you want to see how far I am?” Angel asked, this time with a little whine.

Johnny looked at his reflection in the window. “I’m sure you’re doing fine, Angel.” He heard another sigh and the slapping of approaching feet.

“
Look,
” Angel said.

“
It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Johnny said. “Not too hot, not too cold. A good day to go for a walk, or to rake up a bunch of leaves and jump into the piles.”
We’d need knee pads and body armor, though. Where did all the leaves go? I don’t see any under any trees around here. Probably global warming. Maybe the pollen—

“
No,” Angel said. “Don’t look outside. Look at my puzzle.”

Johnny turned his head.
My God! She’s almost done! Incredible! That would have taken me an entire weekend!
“That looks nice, dear,” he said calmly, and he turned back to the window. “Oh look. A squirrel gathering acorns. I could watch squirrels frolicking all day long.”

Angel moved in front of Johnny and looked up at him with dark brown eyes magnified by her glasses. “Nice? I’m practically finished.”

Time for a little playful repartee.
“I thought you said you were halfway done.”

“
I am.”

“
So that’s not practically finished, is it?”

Angel started to speak and stopped.

“
Well begun is half done, huh?” Johnny asked. “Ben Franklin said that. Good old Ben.”

“
I’m
more
than half done.” Angel strolled away. “See for yourself.”

She’s not exactly the playful repartee type.
Johnny tried to disguise his admiration for Angel’s puzzle-building skills by keeping his lips in a flat line. She had made numerous piles arranged according to size, shape, and color. She would analyze a wall or a turret, move to a pile, spy the correct piece, examine it, and put it exactly where it had to go without any trial and error.
Frightening.

“
Quite a feat of engineering, huh?” Johnny sat on the loveseat.

“
It’s okay,” Angel said, her fingers working their magic. “Not as good as the pyramids.”

“
I’ve always wondered how they built the pyramids,” Johnny said.

Angel dropped a piece. “I have a book.” She tore up the stairs, tore down the stairs, and opened a book to a diagram of Egyptian building techniques. “That’s how they did it.”

Maybe we’ll try intellectual repartee this time.
“That’s how we
think
they did it.”

Angel hesitated before placing the next piece. “But it’s in the book.”

“
True, true,” Johnny said, “but I think the Egyptians were smarter than that. I think they built them differently and more efficiently without all this manpower and animal power.”

“
So how do
you
think they did it?” Angel asked.

I love her curious mind! I could do without the attitude, though.
“Well … I will need some paper and a pencil.”

Angel ran off and returned with a notebook and a pencil. She stood behind the loveseat and looked over his shoulder.

Gloria and Marion sneaked into the hallway and sat on the stairs.

Johnny drew a pyramid in the center of the page. “Not very good, I know.”

“
It’s okay.”

My first compliment!
He drew a line slanting up and to the right of the top of the pyramid. “Most of the pyramids are in or near the desert, right?”

Angel nodded.

“
The desert is no place for people to be for very long. It’s hot, no shade, a real furnace. And it would be no picnic to feed them all and provide them with adequate water.”

Angel shook her head.

“
I think the Egyptians used gravity and an incline or ramp instead of thousands of workers.” He drew a block on the incline. “It would be so much easier to slide this block of stone down the ramp and have a few men and animals put it into position, kind of like you’re doing with the puzzle pieces. The higher the initial incline or hillside, the higher the pyramid. And as the pyramid grew, the incline got shorter and shorter.” He flipped through the book and found The Valley of the Kings. “Look at the hillsides, Angel. All the pyramids are located close by.”

“
I don’t know …”

“
Neither does anyone else with any absolute certainty.” He turned to a blank page in the notebook. “Another way they may have done it was to build it one level at a time … and sink it.” He drew one level of a pyramid in perspective. “Let’s say this is the first level. You’ve slid it into position. You could have men and beasts dragging up the blocks for the next level, or you could sink these to ground level …”

“
And slide the next blocks on top,” Angel said. “They’d have to do a lot of digging.”

“
But it would be easy digging, right?” Johnny asked.

“
Because of all the sand,” Angel whispered.

He pointed again at the picture of The Valley of the Kings. “It’s possible that this was all one flat plain at one time, and that they literally dug out this valley and left what we see here today.”

“
I don’t know …”

“
It’s something to consider.”

Angel sighed. “So my book is wrong?”

Johnny tapped the book. “Most people believe this is the way the Egyptians did it, so that’s why these diagrams are in this book. They built them over five thousand years ago, and though we have lots of records, we’ll never know exactly how they did it. If I were to build a pyramid today, I think I’d use the gravity method.”

Angel rested her chin on the back of the loveseat. “Are you a teacher, too?”

Another compliment?
“No, but I studied engineering.”

“
Then why aren’t you an engineer now?”

I’ll let Gloria explain that to her.
“I wanted to be a writer.”

“
But you deliver pizzas.”

Johnny nodded. “And when I get home, I do my writing while you’re asleep.”

“
What kinds of stories do you write?”

Ridiculous ones. Horrific romances.
“Stories about people.” He smiled at Angel.
And this gives me an idea for the special person next to me.
“I have written a story I think you might like.”

Gloria gripped Marion’s hand. “No, Johnny,” she whispered.