Read Online The Obituary Society by Jessica L. Randall - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jessica L. Randall
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Grandpa was how not to cook.”
Ada cocked her head and stared at her with wide eyes.
“You still have plenty of strawberries, right?” Lila asked.
Ada nodded slowly, unconvinced. “What do you plan to do?”
“Trust me, Ada. Get yourself ready and go to the breakfast. I’ll meet you there.”
“ I can’t do it,” Ada said, wringing her apron hard. “I have a reputation here. Don’t let those ladies fool you. Some of them have been waiting for me to mess up like this.
“ And besides, people are depending on me. Verna Kelley told me that every year her brother Elmer waits and waits for our booth to go up, just so he can get some of my baked goods. She doesn’t mind, you see; her desserts are always store-bought . And Elmer, he has a bit of my cake and a glass of milk before he goes out to work each day. He saves it so it feeds him for a week.” Her round chin tilted upward, and her blue eyes were misty under her glasses.
Lila wrapped her arm around Ada and led her out of the kitchen.
“It will be good. Don’t worry about a thing. I have a reputation back where I come from too, you know,” she said, winking.
“ Really?” Ada asked.
“ Really.”
Ada smiled tightly. “All right, then. I'll be busy helping the library get their book sale going after the breakfast. Our booth goes up at eleven. Try to have it there by then.”
“I'll be there.”
Ada nodded and headed to her room as Lila turned back toward the kitchen. She shuffled in, wrapped her hands around the edge of the table, and dropped her head, letting her hair fall over her face like a curtain . It was true she had a reputation back home, but it was more for speaking before she thought than anything regarding cooking. She couldn’t believe what she'd just told Ada. Her stomach twisted up in knots.
But it was true what she had said about not cooking. She was great at not cooking. She wasn't a disaster in the kitchen, but she had definitely learned the benefit of short cuts. Surely she could pull out some of her old tricks to make this work. She took a deep breath. She could do this. First she had to go to the store to see what she could find to work with. It couldn’t be hard to make something good with ripe, home-grown strawberries.
Her heart dropped as she realized this meant she would have to drive the old pick-up again. She'd been to the grocery store a couple of times, but had made the excuse that Gladys might need help, so she had walked over to her house and they had driven Gladys's car.
She was never sorry, because Gladys had the most interesting way of describing everyone they saw along the way. Partly it was because people here didn't just know a person. They knew the whole family tree from the roots up, and each individual was one branch of a complicated system. She knew why a person was the way they were. But it wasn't just that. She seemed to see things that other people didn't notice, like what a person's gifts were, or how they felt inside. Maybe it was those gigantic glasses. She imagined Gladys seeing into people with her magnified eyes and laughed to herself.
Lila hesitated, then grabbed the keys and slipped on a pair of flip-flops. She opened the door and came face to face with Max, who jumped back slightly, his brows raised in surprise.
“ Oh. Hi. Can I . . . help you?” Lila knew that this house was no place for a man on this particular morning.
He took his glasses off and wiped them on his shirt. “I just came by to finish up some work on Ada’s computer.”
Max looked different today. It took Lila a moment to realize he was clean-shaven, and had taken the time to comb his hair. He had a difficult time making eye contact. Lila thought he must be one of those awkward young men who get along much better with the retired-types than with those his own age. Not that there were many retired-types around in
Ada cocked her head and stared at her with wide eyes.
“You still have plenty of strawberries, right?” Lila asked.
Ada nodded slowly, unconvinced. “What do you plan to do?”
“Trust me, Ada. Get yourself ready and go to the breakfast. I’ll meet you there.”
“ I can’t do it,” Ada said, wringing her apron hard. “I have a reputation here. Don’t let those ladies fool you. Some of them have been waiting for me to mess up like this.
“ And besides, people are depending on me. Verna Kelley told me that every year her brother Elmer waits and waits for our booth to go up, just so he can get some of my baked goods. She doesn’t mind, you see; her desserts are always store-bought . And Elmer, he has a bit of my cake and a glass of milk before he goes out to work each day. He saves it so it feeds him for a week.” Her round chin tilted upward, and her blue eyes were misty under her glasses.
Lila wrapped her arm around Ada and led her out of the kitchen.
“It will be good. Don’t worry about a thing. I have a reputation back where I come from too, you know,” she said, winking.
“ Really?” Ada asked.
“ Really.”
Ada smiled tightly. “All right, then. I'll be busy helping the library get their book sale going after the breakfast. Our booth goes up at eleven. Try to have it there by then.”
“I'll be there.”
Ada nodded and headed to her room as Lila turned back toward the kitchen. She shuffled in, wrapped her hands around the edge of the table, and dropped her head, letting her hair fall over her face like a curtain . It was true she had a reputation back home, but it was more for speaking before she thought than anything regarding cooking. She couldn’t believe what she'd just told Ada. Her stomach twisted up in knots.
But it was true what she had said about not cooking. She was great at not cooking. She wasn't a disaster in the kitchen, but she had definitely learned the benefit of short cuts. Surely she could pull out some of her old tricks to make this work. She took a deep breath. She could do this. First she had to go to the store to see what she could find to work with. It couldn’t be hard to make something good with ripe, home-grown strawberries.
Her heart dropped as she realized this meant she would have to drive the old pick-up again. She'd been to the grocery store a couple of times, but had made the excuse that Gladys might need help, so she had walked over to her house and they had driven Gladys's car.
She was never sorry, because Gladys had the most interesting way of describing everyone they saw along the way. Partly it was because people here didn't just know a person. They knew the whole family tree from the roots up, and each individual was one branch of a complicated system. She knew why a person was the way they were. But it wasn't just that. She seemed to see things that other people didn't notice, like what a person's gifts were, or how they felt inside. Maybe it was those gigantic glasses. She imagined Gladys seeing into people with her magnified eyes and laughed to herself.
Lila hesitated, then grabbed the keys and slipped on a pair of flip-flops. She opened the door and came face to face with Max, who jumped back slightly, his brows raised in surprise.
“ Oh. Hi. Can I . . . help you?” Lila knew that this house was no place for a man on this particular morning.
He took his glasses off and wiped them on his shirt. “I just came by to finish up some work on Ada’s computer.”
Max looked different today. It took Lila a moment to realize he was clean-shaven, and had taken the time to comb his hair. He had a difficult time making eye contact. Lila thought he must be one of those awkward young men who get along much better with the retired-types than with those his own age. Not that there were many retired-types around in
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