by Rose Pressey
“Do you want to be on a cooking show or not?” she snapped.
“Of course, yes, yes,” I said.
“Good, then be here at twelve o’clock. Don’t be late,” she said matter-of-factly.
Before I had a chance to say another word the call ended. I dropped my phone onto the bed. Now I had to be back in Atlanta tomorrow. I wasn’t ready for this. I still wanted to bake a little bit and perfect the recipe I’d chosen. Plus, I’d pretend I was on the show and rehearse. I supposed I’d done that many times over the years though. I’d wanted my own cooking show since the age of ten.
“Anyone home?” my mother called out.
I tossed the t-shirt I’d been folding in the air. Did no one knock anymore? Surely that door wasn’t open again. I had to get that lock checked. I raced down the stairs to the kitchen. My mother ran over to me and gave me a huge hug. The kitchen light shone against my mother’s dark hair letting me know she’d recently been to the salon to cover the few gray hairs. She claimed she’d never go gray. Her blue eyes reminded me of the lilac bushes in the backyard.
“You shouldn’t leave the door open,” she said when she finally released me.
My mother wore a variation of her usual casual style: white shorts and a pink tank top. Her flip flops were sparkly silver with pink polish on her toes.
“There must be something wrong with the latch on the screen door,” I said as I locked the door again.
She pinched my waist. “There’s nothing there. You definitely need to eat more.”
“Oh, Mom,” I said with a wave of my hand. “I’ve been eating, it’s just that I’ve been busy.”
“Well, you’ve been too busy in my opinion. You should slow down and enjoy the cupcakes.”
“No time to slow down now,” I said.
“I just don’t understand why on earth you left the door open.” She walked over and studied the pie underneath the glass dish.
“I told you I didn’t leave the door open,” I said. “I would never do that.”
“Well, it was wide open when I walked up. We’ve got to get a better lock on it. You’re way out here all by yourself. I’ll be worried sick about you.”
“Well, Grandma was out here by herself,” I said.
“Yes, well, Grandma could take care of herself,” my mother said.
I frowned. “What makes you think I can’t take care of myself? You taught me how to do that, right?”
“I suppose I did teach you that,” she said with a sigh.
She didn’t sound overly confident in that, but I wouldn’t argue the point. I would never win.
“Where is Dad?” I asked.
“Doing something to the car as usual. I don’t know.” She tossed her hands up. “He said he heard a noise. I just ignore it. There was no noise. He’s just looking for something to be wrong with the car. He wants a new one.”
“Aw,” I said. “Dad and his cars.”
My mother looped her arm through mine. “Let’s go get him and then we’ll drive into town for hamburgers and chocolate milkshakes.”
Chapter 3
After my parents dropped me off I finished unpacking. The next time I checked the clock it was already midnight. I hadn’t planned on staying up this late, but I’d baked two dozen vanilla cupcakes with pink buttercream frosting. I’d used the closed star tip on the pastry bag to make a rose design on top with the frosting. Simple, but always delicious.
After slipping into my pink pajamas and brushing my teeth, I hunkered down under the covers. With my eyes closed I tried to drift off, but I’d forgotten just how quiet it would be out in the country. I’d figured that would make it easier to go to sleep, but now it was having the opposite effect. The crickets and the sway of the branches on the nearby oak trees were the only sounds. Every sway or chirp kept me awake. Maybe I needed more noise. I tried to push the thoughts of tomorrow out of my head.
Continuing to replay the worst-case scenarios in my mind would make me crazy. What if I messed up the recipe? What if my cake was flat? What if it was dry? There was nothing I could do about it right now and I needed to stop worrying. Of course, that was easier said than done. Maybe if I counted sheep… or in this case Mrs. Wells’ pigs. I would count cupcakes, but that would only either make me hungry or want to get up and bake more. I opened one eye and looked at the clock. It was too dark to read it.
A few seconds passed when a noise sounded from somewhere in the house. It sounded as if it had carried from downstairs. I’d locked the main kitchen door, but maybe the screen door had come unlatched again and the wind had banged it shut. I lay completely still. Another noise came from downstairs.
What was the sound? It sounded like a rattling noise, but it was kind of loud. Maybe it was only a mouse or a raccoon. There was no telling what kind of animals I would discover out here. I remembered during the summers the snakes would slither close to the house and my grandmother would have to get rid of them. Pappy was out working and that left Grandma to take care of things at the house. What she did to get rid of the snakes I had no idea and I hadn’t bothered to ask.
The rattling noise sounded again and my whole body shook. The cover even moved from my trembling. I supposed I had to go check it out, considering I was the only one in the house. Well, I thought I was the only person in the house, but what if someone was making that noise downstairs? What if I wasn’t alone? Had Lucille returned? Not in the middle of the night.
I sure hoped it was an animal and not a person. I’d locked all the doors and windows, but maybe I had missed a lock. Did anyone else have a key to the house? It was unlikely Grandma would give anyone other than family a key. Maybe I was having an unexpected family reunion.
Barefoot, I padded across the hardwood floor. My breathing was heavy and my stomach twisted into a knot at the thought of opening the bedroom door. What if someone was right there on the other side waiting for me? I was even scared at the thought of a mouse on the other side of the door waiting for me, much less a person. Regardless of who or what was on the other side, I had to open it and find out. I wrapped my hand around the door knob, bracing myself for what would happen next.
Slowly I opened the door. The hallway was dark. Maybe I should’ve left all the lights on in the house, just in case something got in, or just until I got used to the place. I eased down to the hallway, tiptoeing so that I wouldn’t make a sound. Unfortunately, the floorboard groaned. I paused with my breath caught in my throat.
At least I’d heard no sounds and I was hoping that it stayed that way. Based on memory, I tried to pinpoint where the noise had come from. I supposed I would have to check the entire house.
I made my way down the hallway and paused at the top of the staircase. I peered down, seeing halfway into the kitchen. There was no sign of anyone there. It would take forever to check the entire house. It had to be done though. I supposed I could start with the basement and work my way back upstairs.
Rushing down the rest of the stairs, I paused in front of the basement door. A shuffling sounded again. I thought for sure it was coming from the basement. Much to my distress, I had no weapon. Maybe I could run back and grab my shoe, but I doubted a whack of my tennis shoe would wound anyone. Other than maybe a spider.
The door squeaked as I slowly eased it open. Standing at the top of the staircase that led to the basement, now I was faced with a dilemma. Should I turn the light on to go down there and possibly alert the intruder that I was on my way? Or leave it dark and sneak up on them? I supposed it was better if it was dark. Though then the person could possibly sneak up on me. Or I’d trip and tumble down the stairs. I didn’t know the right decision, but nevertheless, I moved down the staircase into the dark basement. One small step at a time. I was pretty sure I was holding my breath and forgetting to even breathe. I’d seen scary movies with scenarios such as this and it usually didn’t end well.
How many steps were there? It felt as if I’d been moving downward for a long time. In reality it had probably
only been a few seconds. While in the midst of fear it was easy to see how seconds could feel like hours.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I stopped, looking around the dark space for any sign of a person. A person or animal could be hiding and waiting for the perfect chance to jump out and get me. Nothing moved and there were no other sounds. Whew. What a relief. Since I saw nothing down there, I figured there was no reason to stay. The comfy bed was calling my name. Oh, wait, I still needed to check the rest of the house. I’d never sleep if I didn’t.
I’d just turned around to go back up the steps when the noise came again. I screamed and scrambled up a couple of the steps. Once my heart stopped pounding so hard, I peeked around to see what I had made the noise. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until my attention turned to the corner of the room. A black and gray cat. Its green eyes glowed in the dark room. This must be Mrs. Wells’ cat.
“How did you get in here, kitty?” I asked.
I sure hoped she was friendly. An angry cat was much better than an angry human intruder. I’d pick the cat any day. Plus, the cat seemed friendly when she meowed at me.
“Are you hungry?” I asked as I moved a bit closer.
So far, she didn’t run away. Instead she sat in the corner of the room next to a large white mixing bowl. I remembered my grandmother using one like that to prepare a number of dishes. Why was it there? It was the only thing down here. My mother had said that they had cleaned out the basement, but apparently, they’d failed to find the bowl since it was right there in plain sight. I couldn’t see how they’d missed it. Had my mother left it down here on purpose? The white bowl had big red cherries painted around the rim.
I moved closer to the cat and held my hand out to her. To my delight she didn’t run away. Instead she moved over and sniffed my hand. Next, she rubbed her body against my leg. Okay, that was all it took. Now I was in love.
“You are a pretty kitty,” I said, stroking her back. “How about we go upstairs and find you something to eat?”
I looked around, almost expecting to see someone else standing in the basement. It seemed unlikely that the cat had made all that noise.
“Were you the one making all the noise down here?” I asked as if she would answer.
Furthermore, I had no idea how she’d gotten into the house, much less the basement, since the door had been shut.
If someone was down here, then surely, I would see them. There was no furniture, boxes, or other items to hide behind. Also, if someone was here then they would see me and likely confront me. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. Perhaps I should take the chance and turn on the light. The kitty watched me as if she thought I was a bit peculiar.
I walked back over to the spot where the cord dangled from the ceiling. When I pulled the cord, the light flooded the space in a white glow. The innocent kitty sat next to the bowl. I scanned the space again to make sure I was alone.
“Okay, kitty, we should go upstairs. Tomorrow we’ll find out if you are lost or if you need a forever home.”
The cat meowed as if she understood that. Now that I studied the bowl again, I remembered my grandmother using it, but not too often. It would be a great addition to the kitchen. Why was it down here? Maybe my mother had found it and left it out for me and forgotten to bring it upstairs. Regardless, I’d found it now. Two surprises. A furry friend and a new tool for my kitchen.
I knelt down and picked up the bowl with both arms. “Okay, follow me.”
The kitty strolled along behind me as I carried the bowl upstairs. I’d almost reached the kitchen when I remembered that I’d never truly explained the strange noise. Of course, this brought back the anxiety.
After placing the bowl on the table, I hurried around the house turning on lights and checking all the doors and windows. This meant I finally had to go into Grandma’s room. That brought back a flood of emotions. The blue and white quilt she’d made covered the bed. Photos of her and Pappy topped the dresser.
At least I wasn’t totally alone. The cat followed me as I checked under the bed and in the closet. I stood in the middle of the room with my hands on my hips. The cat peered up at me as if waiting for an explanation.
“Well, it must’ve just been the wind. Because I know it wasn’t you making all that noise.”
She stared at me with her glowing green eyes.
Since I wanted to be on top of my game for tomorrow I really needed to get some sleep. The show was the most important thing that had ever happened to me and I didn’t want to spoil it because of lack of sleep.
After finding tuna for the cat, I made a bed for her in the kitchen and left the light on over the stove. It cast a small yellow glow over the room. I didn’t want her to be afraid in the dark. Okay, and maybe I was a bit afraid of the dark too.
“I’ll leave the bedroom door open if you decide you need to visit me in the middle of the night. Just don’t scare me when you jump on the bed.” I rubbed her head.
She stared at me for a second and then started licking her paws. I padded across the hardwood floor back to bed. After climbing back into bed, I stared at the ceiling. Only the sound of the crickets and the wind remained. I wasn’t sure what time I dozed off. It was probably around two a.m. Unfortunately, I had to be up by eight if I wanted to be dressed and prepared on time. It wasn’t quite a full eight hours, but it would have to do.
Chapter 4
Sun splashed across my face. It was just as I remembered in the summer time at Grandma’s house. How long would I continue to call the place Grandma’s house? It was mine now. I managed to get myself out of bed and into the shower. The cat wasn’t in the bedroom. I hoped to find her in the kitchen where I’d left her last night.
I’d probably gone over a million different outfits in my mind. In reality, I had a small amount to pick from because my funds for a new wardrobe were limited. Plus, I didn’t have a personal stylist.
My options started with a short-sleeved green dress that fell just above the knees. I’d pair that with nude heels and a matching belt. The next outfit was a red dress with a full-circle skirt and fitted bodice. It hit just below the knees. I’d match that with black heels and a belt. The last option was cream-colored pants and a royal blue silk blouse. I figured I could wear the nude heels with that as well.
I wanted to be business casual. Since I couldn’t afford to have anyone do my hair or makeup, I had to fend for myself with that. I styled my blonde hair into wavy curls that came just below my shoulders. Of course, I’d smudged my mascara and had to start all over again. I decided on the emerald-green dress and heels with matching belt. Just as I’d finished dressing, my phone rang. My mother was calling. She probably wanted to ask all about the big day.
“By the way, I found that mixing bowl that you left for me in the basement,” I said after answering her questions about my upcoming audition.
“What bowl?” my mother asked.
“The one in the basement in the corner that you left for me. It was right there in the empty corner so that I wouldn’t miss it. Though I’m not sure why you didn’t leave it in the kitchen. It’s white with cute cherries around the top.”
“I didn’t leave a bowl down there. The basement was completely empty. I was pretty proud of how well we cleaned it out. Not that your grandmother was a hoarder or anything. There wasn’t a whole lot of stuff down there considering how many years she lived here. But now it’s spotless.”
“Yes, you did a great job, thank you. I told you that you didn’t have to do all that, by the way. I was perfectly happy to clean it all out.”
“No need. My friends and I took care of it. I wanted to do it. You need to focus on your new job. This is your big chance.”
She just wanted to feel like she was taking control of a stressful situation. I knew that was how she dealt with things. Nevertheless, back to the bowl. “If you cleaned the whole basement out then you must’ve missed the bowl.”
“That’s impossible. I pay attention to
details. You know that.”
She did pay attention to detail. One little flaw in something and she always picked it out.
“Well, in this case you forgot to get the bowl,” I said.
“Now don’t you argue with me. I know I didn’t leave a bowl down there.” No doubt my mother had placed her hands on her hips.
That last thing I wanted was to argue with her. She always won.
“Then how did the bowl get down there?” I asked.
“Well, that I don’t know.”
“It was certainly there.”
“I’m perplexed,” she said. “Maybe I’m losing it. I guess I am getting older now.”
“You’re not that old,” I said. “Maybe Mrs. Wells across the street brought it.”
“How would she get in the house and leave it in the basement?”
“Good question,” I said, checking the time on the clock.
It looked like I had a mystery on my hands. I still thought that my mother just didn’t remember, but I wouldn’t push the issue.
“Well, all these strange things make me nervous,” she said.
“Listen, Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Call as soon as you can,” she said. “I’ll be a nervous wreck waiting.”
Now I really was feeling the pressure. With the last touch of lip gloss, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. The kitty wasn’t in the kitchen. Where had she gone? I still had no idea how she’d gotten into the house. Another mystery.
As I was almost out the door something made me turn around. Should I take the mixing bowl to the show? It was fabulously cool and very Southern charm. Maybe if I had that special something they’d want me for the show. After all, that was what it was all about… Southern cooking. My mother said I had a certain je ne sais quoi. Of course, that was my mother talking and she was a bit biased. I just needed the extra little push to make them pick me over other contestants.
