Read Online The Christmas Pearl by Dorothea Benton Frank - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dorothea Benton Frank
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off. Then the shopping bug bit Camille. She excused herself on the pretense that she had to pick up a last minute gift.
However, before our kitchen party broke up, the children agreed that the sands were the best things theyhad ever eaten. As soon as the first batch was baked to a perfect golden brown and had cooled, Pearl rolled two in powdered sugar and gave them to the children with a glass of milk. They were just delighted.
“You can eat all the ones that break,” Pearl said.
“Let’s break some,” Teddie said. We knew she was only teasing.
“Don’t you dare!” Pearl said, taking the threat as a compliment.
Unfortunately, the wariness in Camille lived on, as she batted her eyelashes again and again in disbelief when Andrew and Teddie gave Pearl a firm hug around her waist.
“Be careful driving around in that fog,” I said to Camille.
“Don’t worry! I’m too young to die!”
“Don’t go tempting fate,” Pearl said.
Pearl’s face was grim as she spoke those words and Camille shuddered.
“I won’t,” Camille said.
Finally, when there was only Pearl and me left in the kitchen, I said to her, “Tough bunch, huh? Camille likes to take pills and go shopping. With vigor.”
“Gotcha. Heaven help us! I may have to resort to a little Gullah magic, too,” Pearl said. “I wonder if that would be breaking the daggum rules?” A few seconds later, a light came into her eyes as though she hadremembered something. “Hmmph. Watch and see. It’s gonna get worse before it gets better.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Get that list. Call somebody back in here and send them to the grocery store for me. I need two quarts of pomegranate juice, a quart of orange juice, three dozen eggs, two quarts of heavy whipping cream, and a box of powdered sugar. And fresh nutmegs.”
I wrote everything down as quickly as I could. I looked at my scribble in frustration and wondered how in the world anyone else would read it since I could not.
“Pearl?”
“Oh, don’t worry yourself so!”
One snap of her fingers and my script became legible. I glared at it in surprise and Pearl laughed so hard she had to lean over and slap her thighs.
“How in the world do you…?”
“Being dead does have some advantages!”
“Well, that’s nice to know. I mean, I guess …”
“Oh, hand me the list and I’ll get them going!”
She snatched the paper from me and disappeared through the swinging door. I turned around, thinking I would put away the food we had made and try to finish the dishes, only to marvel that everything was as clean as it had ever been. Pearl must have snapped her fingers on the way out the door. All the sands were fanned out in layers on a cake plate, the rum balls were piledhigh in a glistening cut-glass bowl, and the fruitcake, baked to perfection ahead of schedule, rested on a cake rack, filling the air with the exact same divine perfumes I remembered from my childhood.
Of all the five senses, the experts say that smell is the most powerful. For me it was certainly true. My good friend Pearl, on the other hand, seemed to be in possession of a variety of senses. At least six. With her sixth sense and her pockets bulging with every kind of Gullah magic, she was determined that her visit would create a loving order, or else. I didn’t want to think about the or else . If she succeeded, that loving order would force my family to rise from their acrimonious pit of discord. I hoped. Oh, how I hoped!
What did she want with all that pomegranate juice? I was to find out by six o’clock that evening.
Pearl must have blistered her fingers snapping them that afternoon because family treasures began appearing that we had not seen in years. She resurrected my mother’s large punch bowl from somewhere and polished it until you could see your reflection in its sides. My mother’s mother had owned a perfectly magnificent ladle that Pearl coaxed into duty from the dark corners of a silver chest and
However, before our kitchen party broke up, the children agreed that the sands were the best things theyhad ever eaten. As soon as the first batch was baked to a perfect golden brown and had cooled, Pearl rolled two in powdered sugar and gave them to the children with a glass of milk. They were just delighted.
“You can eat all the ones that break,” Pearl said.
“Let’s break some,” Teddie said. We knew she was only teasing.
“Don’t you dare!” Pearl said, taking the threat as a compliment.
Unfortunately, the wariness in Camille lived on, as she batted her eyelashes again and again in disbelief when Andrew and Teddie gave Pearl a firm hug around her waist.
“Be careful driving around in that fog,” I said to Camille.
“Don’t worry! I’m too young to die!”
“Don’t go tempting fate,” Pearl said.
Pearl’s face was grim as she spoke those words and Camille shuddered.
“I won’t,” Camille said.
Finally, when there was only Pearl and me left in the kitchen, I said to her, “Tough bunch, huh? Camille likes to take pills and go shopping. With vigor.”
“Gotcha. Heaven help us! I may have to resort to a little Gullah magic, too,” Pearl said. “I wonder if that would be breaking the daggum rules?” A few seconds later, a light came into her eyes as though she hadremembered something. “Hmmph. Watch and see. It’s gonna get worse before it gets better.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Get that list. Call somebody back in here and send them to the grocery store for me. I need two quarts of pomegranate juice, a quart of orange juice, three dozen eggs, two quarts of heavy whipping cream, and a box of powdered sugar. And fresh nutmegs.”
I wrote everything down as quickly as I could. I looked at my scribble in frustration and wondered how in the world anyone else would read it since I could not.
“Pearl?”
“Oh, don’t worry yourself so!”
One snap of her fingers and my script became legible. I glared at it in surprise and Pearl laughed so hard she had to lean over and slap her thighs.
“How in the world do you…?”
“Being dead does have some advantages!”
“Well, that’s nice to know. I mean, I guess …”
“Oh, hand me the list and I’ll get them going!”
She snatched the paper from me and disappeared through the swinging door. I turned around, thinking I would put away the food we had made and try to finish the dishes, only to marvel that everything was as clean as it had ever been. Pearl must have snapped her fingers on the way out the door. All the sands were fanned out in layers on a cake plate, the rum balls were piledhigh in a glistening cut-glass bowl, and the fruitcake, baked to perfection ahead of schedule, rested on a cake rack, filling the air with the exact same divine perfumes I remembered from my childhood.
Of all the five senses, the experts say that smell is the most powerful. For me it was certainly true. My good friend Pearl, on the other hand, seemed to be in possession of a variety of senses. At least six. With her sixth sense and her pockets bulging with every kind of Gullah magic, she was determined that her visit would create a loving order, or else. I didn’t want to think about the or else . If she succeeded, that loving order would force my family to rise from their acrimonious pit of discord. I hoped. Oh, how I hoped!
What did she want with all that pomegranate juice? I was to find out by six o’clock that evening.
Pearl must have blistered her fingers snapping them that afternoon because family treasures began appearing that we had not seen in years. She resurrected my mother’s large punch bowl from somewhere and polished it until you could see your reflection in its sides. My mother’s mother had owned a perfectly magnificent ladle that Pearl coaxed into duty from the dark corners of a silver chest and
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