How to Bake a Perfect Life - Barbara O'Neal [59]
—M. F. K. FISHER, THE ART OF EATING
Katie, Present Day
Ramona lost Merlin!
Katie can’t breathe for the fury and terror in her chest, and she careens around the house to the backyard, the last place she saw her dog. In the middle of the grass, she turns in a careful circle, calling him. “Merlin! Merlin!”
She knows it’s her own fault that he got away. She was so tired and she wanted to go back to sleep, but she’s probably just like her mother—not very good at taking care of things that depend on her. The thought makes her want to cry. “Oh, Merlin! I will take care of you. I promise. Please come back.”
“It’s going to be okay,” says a woman from the garden. “He’s only running. He’s a smart dog.”
It’s the old lady who was sitting beneath the tree last night. Katie frowns. The woman is cutting flowers from the border of the garden, where all the tall purple and blue and brown and peach flowers are—some of the prettiest flowers Katie has ever, ever seen. She’s dressed as if she just got up, in a thin white robe with little sprigs of flowers on it and a scarf over her hair.
Still, her words ease some of the heat in Katie’s throat. “How do you know?”
“I saw him.” The woman clips a flower, leaving the stem long, and holds it up next to the others in her basket. “On my way over here.”
“He was running?”
“Rolling in stinky stuff, actually, but really, he’s exploring the neighborhood. That’s what dogs do.” She holds up a flower that’s exactly the color of the flesh of a banana, edged with a dark nutmeg brown. The petals are as ruffly as a dress. “What do you think of this one?”
“Are you allowed to pick those flowers?”
“Oh, yes. Ramona and I have an understanding.”
“I’ve never seen such amazing flowers,” Katie says, letting her guard down for one second. “I’ve never seen anything that even comes close to being so beautiful.”
The old woman smiles, and Katie sees she has a missing tooth. As if she remembers just in time, the woman gives a very lighthearted giggle and covers it with her hand. “Sorry. I haven’t put my bridge in yet, have I?” Her eyes still twinkle. The color is a bright, powerful blue. “If you like flowers, Lily can teach you.”
“Who?”
“Ramona’s mother.”
Katie shivers suddenly. From behind, she hears her name being called. “I have to go.”
The woman nods. Katie turns and runs around the outside of the house, hoping against hope that Merlin has returned.
Ramona
When Katie flees toward the backyard, I reluctantly get busy, too. The girls and I fill the cases with our overnight creations, bringing the glorious scent of bread into the front room. Jimmy starts the coffeepot and when all of that is finished, I take a wet towel to the porch and erase the board. When it’s clean and dry, I use my best handwriting and write with neon-blue marker:
WELCOME TO
MOTHER BRIDGET’S BOULANGERIE!
Today’s Specials
Gougères
Raisin Walnut Pain Grenoblois
Sourdough Wheat Rolls
Assorted Muffins
As I’m finishing, a voice says behind me, “Hello!”
I turn to see a man—the man I saw on his porch while I was looking for Merlin—coming up the walk with a dog on a line. The dog is cheerful, tongue lolling.
“Merlin!” I dash down the steps. “Where have you been, you naughty boy?”
“Careful,” the man says, “he’s been rolling in dog perfume.”
The odor slams me, and I cover my nose. “Gross, Merlin!”
The dog sits down, utterly pleased with himself. A big dark mark smears the white fur at his neck, and he’s panting from the good workout, grinning broadly, showing all his teeth and a long slobbery tongue. He’s being held loosely with what appears to be a man’s striped green tie looped around his collar. I’m so happy to see him, I want to cry.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I say, looking up. “You have no idea what a huge disaster this was about to be.”
The man nods in a genial way. He’s long-limbed, very lean, and wears a corduroy coat over his jeans. A rose, dewy and perfect, hangs out of