Cookin' the Books

by Amy Patricia Meade

  For the first time during her visit, Binnie Broderick was nonplussed. ‘Menu options? What do you mean, “menu options”?’

  ‘Fish and chicken for those whose diets don’t include beef, meat-free dishes for the vegetarians and vegans. Then there’s the whole gluten-free issue—’

  ‘Gluten-free? Oh, we do not have any of those. I don’t know where you were raised but this is the South, darlin’. Most everyone I know eats meat, pickles, and fried food. It’s also been my experience that these benefits always run more smoothly and people are always far more generous if a steak dinner is offered. However, I suppose we do have a few of those “new-agey” sorts. Mostly the younger generation.’

  ‘New-agey?’ Mary Jo asked.

  ‘You know … the folks who do yoga, wear hemp clothing, get henna tattoos, and won’t eat anything that has a face.’

  Jules rolled his eyes and wandered behind the counter to pour himself a glass of Arnold Palmer.

  ‘Sounds like I need to add some vegan options,’ Tish stated.

  ‘Yes, I guess you should.’ Binnie sighed.

  Tish typed more some notes into her cell phone. ‘What’s the venue for the event?’

  ‘Our local Masonic Lodge has donated the space, the tables, the chairs, even the dinner- and serve-ware. All you have to do is show up, cook, and serve.’

  ‘That certainly makes things easier. And what’s your budget for this event?’

  ‘Thirty dollars a head,’ Mrs Broderick stated emphatically.

  ‘I’m very sorry, Mrs Broderick, but I can’t do a three-course plated dinner, steak included and with vegetarian and vegan options, for that price. Not when I need to hire a wait staff as well.’

  ‘Really? Why, don’t you have nerve! This is your first job.’

  ‘And I appreciate the opportunity to make it the first of many, but I simply can’t make it work for that little,’ Tish replied. ‘I can do it for sixty, but that’s as low as I can go.’

  ‘Sixty? Why—’

  ‘You can call Richmond’s finest caterers and they’ll quote you three times that, I’m sure. I’m not trying to make a profit off a library fundraiser, Mrs Broderick, but I do need to be able to cover expenses.’

  ‘Yes, well, I suppose we can make it work. I just expected you to be cheaper. Disappointing to find otherwise.’

  ‘I am cheaper,’ Tish stated in as polite a tone as she could muster. She desperately wanted the job, but she also knew that lowballing the price of her first job would set a dangerous precedent. ‘I also promise to be more reliable than the caterer who cancelled.’

  ‘Do you?’ Binnie challenged as she pinned her hat back on to her head.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Tish promised.

  ‘I suppose you do have a selling point there,’ Mrs Broderick finally relented. ‘And it’s far too late to go to anyone else. All right, sixty dollars a head it is.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Broderick,’ Tish replied and extended her hand once again. This time, Binnie Broderick extended hers as well.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Tarragon. I’m sure you’ll come up with something to “wow” me because, you do realize, I need to be wowed in order to give you a reference. Ta-ta!’

  Tish watched as Binnie pranced out of the front door and back into her Mercedes. ‘Grrrrrrr,’ she snarled as soon as the woman was safely inside her vehicle.

  ‘That was quite possibly the single most horrible woman I’ve ever encountered in my entire life,’ Mary Jo opined.

  ‘Woman?’ Jules challenged. ‘That was no woman. If there were a mirror in here, I bet twenty dollars we wouldn’t have seen her reflection.’

  After a hearty belly laugh, Tish mimicked, Remember, I need to be wowed to give you a reference.’

  ‘Wowed? She’s so uptight, I doubt she’s ever been wowed. Or wooed.’

  May Jo and Tish burst out in laughter.

  ‘I see ya’ll been “Binnied,”’ a voice noted from outside the screen door.

  They whirled around to see a heavyset woman in her late fifties dressed in a pair of denim Bermuda shorts, flip-flops, and a wide-strapped Hawaiian-printed tank top. Her short hair was dyed a bright, unnatural shade of red, and a hot-pink-framed pair of reading glasses hung around her neck. The woman gave a deep, throaty smoker’s laugh. ‘Sorry to scare y’all. I’m Celestine. I’ve been lookin’ after the place since Miss Cynthia left us.’

  ‘Celestine? Oh, yes! Schuyler Thompson told me you’d be stopping by today.’ Tish swung open the door to allow the woman admittance. ‘How nice to meet you.’

  ‘Nice to meet you too, Miss Tarragon.’

  ‘Oh, please, call me Tish. And this is Jules and Mary Jo.’

  ‘Pleased to meet y’all.’ Celestine nodded her greeting. ‘Expectin’ some young, waif-like French girl, weren’t you?’

  ‘What? No. Not at—’

  Celestine didn’t give Tish time to finish. ‘Don’t bother to tell me no. Everyone hears my name and expects to see some angelic creature. Even my mama hoped I’d be some tiny sweet thing like her. She was French-Canadian, beautiful face and figure. Very religious. Was studying to be a nun until my daddy charmed the pants off her. Wound up married and with three daughters: Celestine, Evangeline, and Yvette. Not sure where Mama got the name Yvette from, but that’s OK, my youngest sister’s always been a strange ’un. Anyways, Mama thought I’d turn out like her, but I wound up like my daddy’s side – snaggle-toothed and bow-legged. Didn’t wind up being a nun neither. Instead, I met Mr Rufus and came into the family way. Got married under the gun and been making it work for forty years now. So, Binnie Broderick hired you to cater for the library soiree, did she?’

  Tish, unaccustomed to Celestine’s stream-of-consciousness conversational style, took a few moments before realizing she had been asked a question. ‘Hmm? Oh, yes. Yes, she did. How did you know?’

  ‘It’s a small town, darlin’. News around here travels faster than a toupee in a hurricane,’ she chuckled. ‘Besides, when I saw Binnie’s car parked here, I figured she came over to strong-arm you into giving her a cheap catering deal. Please, tell me you held firm.’

  ‘I gave her a bit of a discount, but overall, yes, I held firm.’

  ‘Good girl. The woman’s like a barracuda, except her teeth are implants. The mayor and half the town council are trying to run her out of a job, yet here she is trying to wheedle you out of a few bucks.’

  ‘Wait. What’s all this about Binnie Broderick being fired?’ Jules asked.

  ‘Oh, there’s a big hullaballoo about the library missing books. Apparently, Binnie Broderick is responsible.’

  ‘Could Binnie be fired before the fundraiser? I mean, what if Tish starts working on the catering job only to get stiffed because the board didn’t hire her?’

  ‘Jules makes a good point,’ Tish stated. ‘I’ve already invested a lot of money in this business. I can’t afford not to be paid for this event.’

  ‘Don’t you worry. I’ve known the president of the board, Augusta May Wilson, for years. She wouldn’t do that. Besides, this whole thing has been dragging on for months. Binnie’s not going away that quick. At least not without a fight.’

  ‘So, the missing books – what happened to them?’ Tish asked.

  ‘Destroyed. Sold. No one knows, except Binnie Broderick.’

  ‘I can’t believe she wasn’t fired on the spot.’

  ‘Good ol’ Binnie claims it was a part of the library’s “weeding” process.’

  ‘Well, it’s a well-known fact that libraries do cull books when they’ve become soiled or damaged,’ Mary Jo noted. ‘Or, in the case of non-fiction books, when the information they provide is outdated and no longer accurate.’

  ‘That was Binnie’s excuse. Problem is the list of “weeded” books Binnie provided the council listed two hundred titles on it. There’s nearly five hundred books missing.’

  ‘More than double the number?’ Tish was incredulous. ‘But surely there was an explanation. Binnie is a
librarian, isn’t she?’

  ‘Librarian? Heck, no. The only book I’ve ever known Binnie to read is the Bible. And for that I even think she uses the CliffsNotes.’ Celestine shook her head. ‘Nope. Binnie graduated from some fancy girl’s school with a business degree.’

  ‘So that explains her unenthusiastic attitude toward Tish’s literary menus,’ Mary Jo commented.

  ‘How did a businesswoman get to be executive director of the library? Not that I wish to engage in gossip. I’m just curious because … well …’ Tish stammered.

  ‘Because Binnie’s about as likeable as a four a.m. car alarm,’ Celestine answered. ‘Connections, hon. When Binnie was appointed, the library was in dire need of repairs. It’s the oldest one in Virginia, as I’m sure she told you. With her endless supply of wealthy friends and her husband’s business contacts, Binnie was able to raise the money needed to repair the library with just one cocktail party.’

  ‘And hence the annual library fundraiser was born,’ Jules assumed.

  ‘Yep. And the library board, needing an executive director and seeing a valuable ally with experience in the business world, hired her.’

  ‘What do they think of her now?’ Tish asked.

  ‘They’re standing by their decision. Well, the board is, at least. The president is none too happy, though.’

  ‘Five hundred books pulled by one woman? That’s quite the coup. Sounds like I should bring her with me to Dillard’s next Black Friday,’ Mary Jo remarked.

  ‘She’s not that fast. She’s had four years to pull it off.’

  ‘But why?’ Tish questioned. ‘What possible reason could she have for pulling all those books?’

  ‘Beats me. All I know is that our tax dollars were spent purchasing those books she pulled. She should, at the very least, be forced to tell us what she did with them, if not repay the town for all the money she flushed down the drain.’

  ‘And what about the information in those books?’ Tish added. ‘What if a kid needed one of those for a school paper? I mean, I know kids have the internet these days, but still …’

  ‘I hear ya. It’s a sad state of affairs, to be sure,’ Celestine commiserated. ‘So, how about I take you down to the cellar and I’ll show you the new oil burner I installed.’

  ‘You installed? Schuyler said you were the caretaker of this place. He didn’t tell me you were in the plumbing and heating business.’

  ‘That’s because I’m not. Mr Rufus is. He was supposed to do the job but he was too busy, so I did it myself. Figured I’d seen him do it a thousand times and that I might as well give it a go. I figured right. Went in with no problem whatsoever.’

  ‘So, you’re a caretaker, a plumber, and you’re up on local gossip. Do you have any other hidden talents I should know about?’

  ‘Baking,’ Celestine answered matter-of-factly. ‘That’s how I got to be the caretaker here. Cynthia Thompson and I were great friends. She did the bread and fancy pastries. I did the pies and cakes, and helped serve and clean up when needed. Wedding cakes are my specialty. The bakery’s been closed eleven months now, but I still get calls for my cakes.’

  ‘Really? Do you have a portfolio?’

  ‘As it so happens, I’ve got some photos on my phone.’ Celestine grinned.

  Tish scrolled through a gallery of cakes that celebrated everything from marriage to a child’s first birthday. Each design was more impressive than the one that preceded it.

  ‘Wow,’ Mary Jo exclaimed. ‘I’m going to have to keep you in mind for my son’s graduation next year.’

  ‘These are exquisite,’ Jules noted.

  ‘Thanks. What’s more important is that they taste good. I offer a dozen different flavors of cake. All of them are moist, yet light – not your typical bakery stuff. I also offer a bunch of different fillings: raspberry, strawberry, lemon, blueberry, chocolate mousse, chocolate ganache, chocolate chipotle cream … the sky’s the limit.’

  ‘Wow,’ Tish muttered as she scrolled through the remaining album to see a cake shaped like car and another with a Disney Frozen theme.

  ‘And, my cakes are far less expensive than those you’ll find in those exclusive Richmond bakeries.’

  ‘OK, you have me sold,’ Tish declared. ‘What are you doing two weeks from this coming Friday?’

  ‘Making dessert for the library benefit and helping you serve,’ Celestine gleamed.

  ‘Deal.’ Tish reached out and shook Celestine’s hand. ‘By the way, I’m not sure if Schuyler told you, but I’m a literary caterer, so all the events I handle are literary-themed.’

  ‘Literary-themed? You mean my desserts have to be book inspired?’

  ‘For this event, book or author inspired, yes.’

  ‘Hmm, I did a Fifty Shades of Grey cake for a bachelorette party last month, complete with handcuffs. Think that would make the cut with Binnie?’ Celestine joked.

  ‘Only if you’re OK with me being run out of town before I’ve even moved in.’ She frowned.

  TWO

  The morning of the library fundraiser loomed dark, potentially stormy, and unbearably humid. Perched upon a foot-tall portable stool in the kitchen of the Hobson Glen Masonic Lodge, Tish stood over a forty-quart stock pot and systematically placed seeded and stemmed sweet red bell peppers into the gently boiling water, waited for them to blanch, and then promptly removed them with a sizeable wire spider strainer and placed them on brown paper bags to dry.

  With the wild rice, quinoa, and black bean filling and the tomato sauce having been cooked the day before, the blanching process was the final preparatory step before Tish’s For Whom the Vegan Stuffed Bell Pepper Tolls were stuffed, doused with sauce, sprinkled with vegan cheese and baked in the oven for a satisfying main course without either dairy or meat.

  Ah, yes, the meat, she recalled as she gazed out of the kitchen window at the ominous clouds forming just beyond the horizon. Silently, she prayed that the imminent meteorological disturbance did not interrupt the town’s power supply, for she had filled the Masonic Lodge’s stainless-steel industrial-sized refrigerator with one hundred and fifty pounds of standing rib roast and fifty pounds of English Stilton for The Prime Rib of Miss Jean Brodie (the port and shallots required for the gravy sat happily in crates upon the counter); fifty pounds of southern Virginia-caught rockfish to be served with sautéed spinach, mushrooms, capers, lemon, and artichoke hearts for The Old Man and the Sea Bream; a ten-pound boiled country ham and twenty pounds of Cheddar cheese for the Who’s Afraid of Virginia Baked Ham on Cheesy Edgar Allan Poe-lenta appetizer; a vat of E.B. White Bean Hummus – also prepared the night before – to be served over freshly grilled crostini for a vegan starter; locally grown, brightly colored squashes, heirloom tomatoes, garlic, eggplant, basil, and onions that would be sautéed together as the perfect seasonal side to both main courses, and an abundance of individually wrapped butter pats, vegan butter spread, sour cream, chives, lemons, limes, oranges, and assortment of condiments and garnishes.

  Then, finally, there needed to be space for Celestine’s fabulous dessert.

  Tish extracted the last of the bell peppers from the simmering water and swallowed hard as perspiration dripped from her neck and down her back. What on earth had she been thinking taking a three-hundred banquet as her first gig? The biggest party she had ever thrown had been for fifty people, and even that had been exhausting.

  Before she could reflect upon her previous life and career, Tish spotted an elderly woman wandering outside the kitchen window. She was about eighty years of age and quite frail and withered-looking. Her silver hair was pinned neatly into a bun high upon her head and she was dressed in a floral-printed periwinkle housecoat, dark-green Wellington boots, and, despite the August heat and humidity, a chunky-knit camel-colored cardigan sweater.

  But the most remarkable feature of all was the small green parrot perched upon the woman’s shoulder.

  Tish stepped down from the stool and continued to watch through the kitchen window
as the elderly woman, the skirt of her dress whipped against her legs by the gusting winds, wandered around to the front of the building, her eyes scanning the area in search of something or someone.

  Setting off through the kitchen door, Tish strode through the freshly mowed green grass, the damp clippings of which adhered to the rubber soles of her bright-red canvas sneakers. As she drew up on the woman, a familiar silver mini-van crunched its way into the lodge’s gravel-lined parking lot. ‘May I help you?’ Tish inquired of the elderly woman.

  ‘Is this where Binnie Broderick is holding the library fundraiser?’

  ‘It is,’ Tish acknowledged as she spied Celestine stepping out of the driver’s side door of the mini-van.

  ‘You go tell Binnie that Enid is here to speak with her.’

  ‘I’m afraid Mrs Broderick isn’t here at the moment.’

  ‘When do you expect her?’

  ‘I have no idea. Not until this evening, most likely.’

  ‘Tish, Enid,’ Celestine greeted as she approached the two women. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘She’s looking for Binnie Broderick,’ Tish explained.

  ‘I need to give her a piece of my mind,’ Enid nearly shouted.

  ‘She still lives down the road from you, doesn’t she? Why not check there?’ Celestine suggested.

  ‘I did. She’s not at home.’

  ‘Did you try the library?’

  ‘The library is the problem. I’m not allowed admittance there. At least not with Langhorne on my shoulder.’

  ‘The sign on the door says No Pets Allowed, Enid.’

  ‘That’s precisely what the librarian told me yesterday. But Langhorne is not a pet. He’s my companion. He’s also better groomed than most of the residents in this town.’ Enid addressed Tish, aside, ‘He gets a shampoo and blow dry twice a week.’

  ‘Really? Well, they um … they seem to be working wonders. He’s quite a beautiful bird.’ Tish raised a hand to Langhorne as an invitation to visit, but the parrot, instead, delivered a firm nip with his beak.