he died. Wanting some passion in his life, needing to kick up his heels a little before the end. Now that Kirby was gone, maybe she should take a cruise. Except, she’d scrutinized the bankbook the other day. Kirby’s social security would come to her until she died, but there wasn’t much extra money to pursue the good life. After years of scrimping and saving, shouldn’t there be some reward?
“Divorce,”she said, spitting the word out like it was a piece of gristle. “Ridiculous.” She was sitting on the living room couch, the cat perched behind her, the Sunday Minneapolis Times Register resting on her lap, the television blissfully off.
For the second wonderful weekend in a row, Cora could start with the food section instead of the front page. She felt guilty for not feeling more guilty. Kirby was gone and someone should be sad.
“Mabel can handle that,” she mumbled, snapping the food section out in front of her.
Cora had to squint with her right eye through her bifocals to see the small print, but it felt liberating not to have to rely on someone else to read to her anymore. Kirby never had time for the recipes. It was one of the small ways in which he liked to lord it over her. What a pathetic old man. She stopped for a moment and tried to think of his good qualities. Under the circumstances, it seemed the Christian thing to do. Acrimony wasn’t God’s way. After a couple of minutes, she gave up, shrugged her shoulders, and went back to the paper.
“Look at this,” she whispered to Winthrop, finding an announcement in bold print about a statewide recipe contest.
!!!! RECIPE CONTEST !!!!
Do you love meat loaf as much as the editors at the Times Register ? Everyone in Minnesota is invited to send a favorite meat loaf recipe to the paper. New or old, it doesn’t matter. A first, second and third prize will be awarded on September 15. Winners will spend a weekend at the historic Maxfield Plaza in downtown St. Paul. They will be wined and dined at some of the finest restaurants in the Twin Cities, and will be featured with their winning creations on WTWN’s Good Morning with Bailey Brown . Only one week is left, so make sure you get your recipes to us soon. Submissions must be postmarked by Friday, August 26.
The gears in Cora’s mind started to spin. “I’ve got the best meat loaf recipe this side of paradise,” she said, growing increasingly excited. This was just what she’d been looking for. A free way to enjoy life. A trip to the Cities, a couple of nights at a fabulous hotel, great food, and fame and fortune on that morning TV show. Her women friends would die of envy.
“This was made to order!” she declared, rising from the couch and walking into the kitchen.
Winthrop followed.
After pouring herself another cup of coffee, she opened one of the top cupboard doors. All she had to do was retrieve her old, wooden recipe box with the duck decals on the front, find the recipe for which she’d won a blue ribbon at the county fair when she was sixteen, and send it off in the morning mail. She had no doubt that she’d win first prize.
But . . . the recipe box wasn’t in the cupboard. “It’s always been right there ,” she said out loud, her anger building. What had that old man done with it? She hadn’t used it in several years, but that didn’t mean Kirby had the right to move it or—horrors—throw it away. Her mother had given it to her on her eighth birthday!
“There was always room for your useless junk, but something as important to me as my recipe box—” It hurt so bad, she couldn’t even finish the sentence. Without the box, she knew she wouldn’t get the recipe right. She’d forget something. Or she’d get the measurements wrong. If she was going to win that contest, she had to find that box.
Even from his grave, Kirby was reaching out to thwart her.
Cora felt like cussing up a storm. If she’d been a weaker woman, she might have let fly, but Cora wasn’t
“Divorce,”she said, spitting the word out like it was a piece of gristle. “Ridiculous.” She was sitting on the living room couch, the cat perched behind her, the Sunday Minneapolis Times Register resting on her lap, the television blissfully off.
For the second wonderful weekend in a row, Cora could start with the food section instead of the front page. She felt guilty for not feeling more guilty. Kirby was gone and someone should be sad.
“Mabel can handle that,” she mumbled, snapping the food section out in front of her.
Cora had to squint with her right eye through her bifocals to see the small print, but it felt liberating not to have to rely on someone else to read to her anymore. Kirby never had time for the recipes. It was one of the small ways in which he liked to lord it over her. What a pathetic old man. She stopped for a moment and tried to think of his good qualities. Under the circumstances, it seemed the Christian thing to do. Acrimony wasn’t God’s way. After a couple of minutes, she gave up, shrugged her shoulders, and went back to the paper.
“Look at this,” she whispered to Winthrop, finding an announcement in bold print about a statewide recipe contest.
!!!! RECIPE CONTEST !!!!
Do you love meat loaf as much as the editors at the Times Register ? Everyone in Minnesota is invited to send a favorite meat loaf recipe to the paper. New or old, it doesn’t matter. A first, second and third prize will be awarded on September 15. Winners will spend a weekend at the historic Maxfield Plaza in downtown St. Paul. They will be wined and dined at some of the finest restaurants in the Twin Cities, and will be featured with their winning creations on WTWN’s Good Morning with Bailey Brown . Only one week is left, so make sure you get your recipes to us soon. Submissions must be postmarked by Friday, August 26.
The gears in Cora’s mind started to spin. “I’ve got the best meat loaf recipe this side of paradise,” she said, growing increasingly excited. This was just what she’d been looking for. A free way to enjoy life. A trip to the Cities, a couple of nights at a fabulous hotel, great food, and fame and fortune on that morning TV show. Her women friends would die of envy.
“This was made to order!” she declared, rising from the couch and walking into the kitchen.
Winthrop followed.
After pouring herself another cup of coffee, she opened one of the top cupboard doors. All she had to do was retrieve her old, wooden recipe box with the duck decals on the front, find the recipe for which she’d won a blue ribbon at the county fair when she was sixteen, and send it off in the morning mail. She had no doubt that she’d win first prize.
But . . . the recipe box wasn’t in the cupboard. “It’s always been right there ,” she said out loud, her anger building. What had that old man done with it? She hadn’t used it in several years, but that didn’t mean Kirby had the right to move it or—horrors—throw it away. Her mother had given it to her on her eighth birthday!
“There was always room for your useless junk, but something as important to me as my recipe box—” It hurt so bad, she couldn’t even finish the sentence. Without the box, she knew she wouldn’t get the recipe right. She’d forget something. Or she’d get the measurements wrong. If she was going to win that contest, she had to find that box.
Even from his grave, Kirby was reaching out to thwart her.
Cora felt like cussing up a storm. If she’d been a weaker woman, she might have let fly, but Cora wasn’t
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