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"Actually, I’d need four Anddifferent you could htnew," she said, her voice getting quiet and sneaky "Eleanor e cake last week, and I need to step it up a notch or two"
"So over at the barren cake display case orry Not about hoas going to bake more--but because I wanted to do it "When do you need these?"
"Toain at the display case This hths, individually for sale Now there were only crumbs
Did I want to do this? Could I do this was a better question, adding another thing to my already packed schedule
"What did you have inthe yellow order pad out of Maxine’s apron pocket as she passed by She frowned, eyeing me from under the beehive hairdo that held a--
"I need this too," I chirped, plucking the pen from the hairspray-stiffened swirl She cracked me on the ass with a dish towel in complaint
"Carrot?" I parroted back to Mrs Oleson, iddy at the thought of shopping at Leo’s for the ingredients M I’d seen tubs of it at Maxwell Farm from the dairy next door What else could I pick up there? Oooo, maybe he’d pick me up Maybe he’d finish what he started that day in the silo--
Shit, I was on the phone "Pick the," I instructed Mrs Oleson, flustered
As I hung up the phone, the Scott family walked in Mom, Dad, and two kids, with the point-five bun in the oven and ready to pop out
"Have a seat anywhere that’s open," I called, leaning over the counter to see if there was a booth or table free There was one in the back, and Mrs Scott was able to waddle unco a name for herself in this town," Chad said over histo look at this--you always get the sa Tunathe top of his head lightly with hisfa on a far," Chad said
I s his order to the kitchen, I started rifling through one of the old cookbooks my mother kept behind the counter An old Betty Crocker froel, devil, coconut, poundAnd then came the mother lode: the European Dessert section Tiramisu, Black Forest, Pavlova, and Irish Mousse I was about to read the recipe for the boozy take on mousse pie when Mr Scott approached the counter
"God, I haven’t seen that in twenty years!" he exclai to the recipe, it was a whiskeyed-up ar, and leh
As Mr Scott leaned closer to stare at the cookbook, he looked like he was about to drool "Are youthis?" he asked hopefully
"I don’t know--maybe I’ve never ulars would love it Hmmm Apples weren’t in season yet, but peaches would be soon Ithe recipe from apples to peaches: maybe less cinnamon, a splash of bourbon Did Leo have peach trees? Hmmm, sweet, luscious peaches And sweet, luscious Leo
Zombie Pickle Class A phrase never before uttered in the history of phrase uttering, let alone printed on a sign But there it was in the diner’s front , propped up by a ten-gallon plastic pickle tub Which was high art apparently, according to Chad "It’s ironic, it’s homey, it’s perfection!" he’d said when he’d dropped it off earlier that day and strong-arh I tried to insist that teaching hian hardly constituted a "class," he’d insistedboards, cucu for hts turned down and jukebox off, just the faint hu on the countertop I’d only ht before, and it’d been a long day One of the line cooks had called in sick, so I’d worked both the breakfast and the lunch shifts on the grill My back creaked, er was burned by a sauté pan
But I was also surprisinglyexhilarated I’d worked a hard day, did everything I needed to do, put out fires--literally, and h the door enjoyed the hell out of their lunch I’d made a new version of tomato soup today I’d slow roasted the to therave;me fraîche instead of half-and-half Then I added brioche croutons, tossed with gruyère and black pepper Did we sell out of that soup before 11 aet way more take-out orders for soup than we’d had since I’d been home?