Banana Muffins & Mayhem

by Janel Gradowski

  "I see." The corners of his mouth crooked up. "I think I might be amenable to your proposal, but I would like more time to study the details. Can dinner wait? It could take a while to do the proper research."

  "Absolutely." Amy giggled as Alex scooped her up in his arms. As he carried her up the stairs, she took a deep breath and willed her mind to focus on her husband. The little thought caterpillar trying to figure out who was wearing the Quantum shirt needed to crawl in a corner of her brain, build a cocoon, and morph into a beautifully plausible explanation. She was going to be busy concentrating on Alex for a while, so there was plenty of time for her subconscious mind to work on the puzzle.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  "Do you really honestly think it will be pretty?" Amy asked. She looked at the small sample tiles and then at her plate. The pottery glazes changed colors when they were heated in a kiln. It was difficult to believe the muted, muddy looking swirls would resemble tropical ocean water. But Geri had promised the glazes would be beautiful together when Amy picked them out, so she was trying very, very hard to believe the drab would turn into fab.

  "It's going to be gorgeous," Geri said as she bent over to examine the plate closer. "You are a talented artist."

  Amy couldn't help but smile at the compliment, even though she knew very well that Carla's mom was just fluffing her ego. Geri had made the perfectly symmetrical, not in the least bit wobbly plate that Amy painted. From a lump of clay. Using only her hands and some simple tools. Swishing around some glaze with a paint brush was far from being the true artist that Geri was. Amy rolled her eyes. "Thank you. I know it isn't true, but I appreciate your effort to make me feel somewhat competent. I'm always looking for interesting dishes to use in photographs for the food on my blog. I figured I would try my hand at making something unique. Although I suspect it will be uniquely ugly."

  "You'll be pleasantly surprised at what it ends up looking like. The colors will be completely different once the plate is fired again." Geri hummed to herself as she set the bottles of glaze on a tray to tidy up the area where Amy had been working. Carla's mother split her time at Make It Unique between making items for customers to paint and helping people accomplish that task. The job was perfect for her personality, and since her boss was also her landlord, she got a great deal on the apartment upstairs. After spending years in New Zealand getting back on her feet after a divorce, Geri had returned to Kellerton a completely different woman. Or at least that's what Carla said. The uptight and sophisticated mother who Carla remembered came back a stylish hippie. Amy suspected the artistic tendencies were always there, just buried under other things that she had made a priority while Carla was growing up.

  Amy slipped off the splattered apron she was wearing and hung it on the hook with the others that the studio provided to customers. She returned to the table and gathered up the wads of paper towels she had scattered around her work space. Geri wiped off the area with a wet cloth. When the task was done, she turned to Amy. "I know I'm giving you zero notice, but do you have a bit of spare time to come up to my apartment right now? I was wondering if you could do a quick hairstyle consultation."

  All of Amy's friends knew that she still loved doing hair, even though she no longer worked as a professional hair stylist. "I have nothing going on this evening, so I would love to."

  After she had gathered her purse and jacket, Amy took a moment to text Alex to let him know her plans. He was still at his office, a block away, working on some kind of urgent project. So he was fine with her hanging out with the woman she had come to think of as a surrogate mom. Geri was far more motherly than Amy's true mother, who lived in Florida. The separation was actually a relief, but Amy never realized how much she missed having a mother around until she began hanging out with her best friend's mom.

  Geri punched out for the day. A door in the backroom led to the stairwell that the upstairs tenants used to reach their apartments. As they began to climb the wooden treads, Amy asked, "So is there a special occasion that you need the new hairstyle for?"

  "Don't tell my worrywart daughter." Geri looked over her shoulder and grinned. "But I have a lunch date on Monday."

  "How exciting! And don't worry. I know how Carla can be, so I won't say anything unless you want me to." Carla's analytical side tended to put a damper on freestyle thinking and activities. While Amy romped around outside the box, Carla drew the lines again. It wasn't a bad thing, but it did sometimes prevent the no-nonsense nurse from truly going with the flow and enjoying herself. Amy knew as well as Geri did that her daughter would worry more about what could go wrong with the date than be happy that her mother was moving on in her personal life. That's just the way she was. Like shortbread cookies always had a crumbly texture, Carla always coolly analyzed every aspect of every situation. That's what made her a good emergency room nurse.

  "Thank you," Geri said as she unlocked her apartment door. "My hair has looked pretty much the same for four years. Now that I'm going on a date, I'm suddenly getting an urge to change it. I realize it's just nerves, so I thought maybe you could come up with a different way for me to style it. So I won't flip out, run to the salon across the street, and end up with a buzz cut like Tommy."

  Inside the cozy apartment, Amy hung her purse and jacket on the tree-shaped coatrack. "I used to work at Elegance Salon. In my biased opinion, it's the best salon in Kellerton. I still know many of the people who are stylists there, and I'm sure they would all try to talk you out of making such a drastic change."

  "Good to know." Geri brushed past Amy on her way into the galley kitchen. "Would you like some herbal tea or wine?"

  "Tea would be nice."

  Soon they were settled into the makeshift salon setup with Geri sitting cross-legged on one of the floor cushions while Amy perched on the edge of the couch behind her. Mugs of steaming hot orange cardamom tea sat on the end table beside them. At Geri's request, Amy helped unravel all of the tiny braids mixed in with her long pewter-gray hair. Thankfully, the purple dreadlocks were synthetic hair clips. No scissors required to remove the felted cords. Amy slipped off the tiny rubber band at the bottom of a braid. A question had settled into her mind when she sat down to do the hair makeover.

  "Did you always want to have children before you had Carla?"

  Geri pulled one of the purple silk ribbons she had removed from her hair through her fingers. "Yes, I suppose so. But to be honest, I can't completely remember if I truly wanted to be a mother or if I thought it was what I was supposed to do. Carla's father and I were all about living the American dream with the white picket fence, dog, and kids. Just like pretty much everybody else we knew. Becoming a mother was expected of me, I felt, but I have to say I have never regretted having Carla."

  Amy nodded as she began unraveling another braid. "Carla keeps telling me that while Macy wasn't planned, she can't imagine her life without the baby now."

  "But you doubt whether you would feel that way." Geri twisted around to grab her mug from the table. She looked up at Amy. Concern wrinkled her forehead. "That's okay, you know. Life never turns out well when you try to conform to someone else's idea of perfection. You know how you feel in your heart. Be proud of your choices, and don't let anybody make you feel guilty about them." She took a sip of tea. "Amy, I know you are a very strong woman with a wonderful, caring heart. But that doesn't mean you have to care for your own herd of rug rats, if you know that's not what you want. You'll just end up miserable."

  Amy tried to loosen the band on another braid, but her hands were shaking so badly that it slipped from her fingers. "Nobody has ever put it that way."

  Geri patted Amy's knee. "I know you're struggling with the decision to have or not have children. Trust your gut, or your heart, or your intuition…whatever you want to call it. I think you already know the correct choice for you, but you're afraid to admit it, maybe even to yourself. Look at Tommy. She doesn't have a child, has never been married either, and is still as happy as a clam. A successful
life is made from things that make you happy, whatever or whoever they are. And if being a mother isn't one of those things, then that's okay. As of right now, I'm giving you the permission to make the right choice for you and to be proud of it."

  Permission. A tear dropped on the back of Amy's hand. That's what she'd been looking for all along as she struggled with deciding whether she wanted to become a mother. Her own mother had never helped her with the decision, choosing instead to ask when she was going to become a grandmother during her infrequent check-in calls. It seemed as though the fact that Amy might not want to have children had never even occurred to her.

  "Thank you," Amy whispered as she resumed undoing the braids. It felt as though her life was doing the same thing. The restrictive tangles were coming undone, but the results weren't bad. Just different. Alex had admitted that he had only pushed her about getting pregnant because he thought that was what she wanted but was afraid to take the final step. It turned out he didn't feel an intense desire to become a father either. She didn't want to have children. And that decision finally felt okay, not like an apology to humanity or hideous declaration of selfishness. She had the right to remain childless and that was her decision, not a failure to meet an obligation of someone else's ideals.

  A half hour later, Amy had shown Geri how to style her hair three different ways, from a casual, twisted bun to a sleek ponytail. As she twisted a rope of hair back away from Geri's face, Amy asked, "So when are you going to tell me about your date?"

  Geri's smile was so wide it could've been featured in an orthodontist advertisement. "He's a retired high school teacher who is an artist now. We're meeting for lunch on Monday."

  "Nice. Are you excited or scared?"

  "Both!" Geri rubbed the palms of her hands on her knees. "I'm not lonely being surrounded by friends and family, but it still feels like a tiny piece of my life is missing. The divorce put my life in a blender for a long time. But I think I'm ready to start dating again. If I don't have a nervous breakdown trying to figure out what to do with my hair before I get to the restaurant. Thank you for helping me with this."

  "I still love doing hair, so it's been my pleasure. Don't ever hesitate to ask if you need some help…with anything."

  Geri looked at the window. "I've been stringing fairy lights around the deck on the rooftop, but I haven't seen them at night yet. Since it's dark, would you like to go with me to check them out?"

  "That sounds like fun."

  A few minutes later, when Geri pushed open the door that led onto the roof, it felt as if she was opening a refrigerator instead of a metal security door. Amy was glad she had wrapped herself in the thick wool shawl Geri had offered before they left the apartment. The temperature had dropped below chilly and ended up at downright cold. Carla's mother flipped a light switch inside the box-like structure that capped off the stairwell.

  Hundreds of tiny lights attached to wooden trellises flickered to life as though they were a swarm of fireflies dancing around the wicker chairs and low table sitting on the wooden deck. The building's air conditioning unit faded away in the darkness as the warm glow from the lights illuminated the seating area. Huge glazed ceramic pots were scattered around the space. Amy forgot about being cold.

  "This is beautiful. What a magical place," Amy said as she ran her fingertips across the arm of one of the chairs. "I'm sure you'll enjoy this all summer."

  Geri gestured for her to sit down as she settled onto the thick cushion of one of the chairs. "The trellis panels are anchored to planter boxes. I can't wait for the weather to warm up so that I can start growing things. Vegetables and herbs but also flowers and vines to cover the trellises and turn them into living privacy screens. I really want to get some night-blooming flowers too. Then this space will smell as good as it looks at night."

  "I can't wait to see it once the plants start growing. It's already incredible."

  Amy pulled the shawl a bit tighter around her shoulders as she tucked her feet under herself. From her vantage point, she could see there were a lot of lights on in the Quantum Media building even though it was approaching 10 p.m. At least Alex wasn't working alone. She took a deep breath, imagining what the patio space would smell like when the flowers were in bloom. For the moment, the air was perfumed with grilled onions and hamburger drifting in the breeze from Louie's Hamburgers at the end of Main Street. The dive restaurant was a favorite stop for people out barhopping on a Saturday night. There were few things better at soaking up alcohol than greasy slider hamburgers on squishy buns.

  They fell silent for a few minutes. Amy looked around. Neon signs welcomed people who were strolling along the sidewalks into bars and restaurants. Above the street, windows glowed in the apartments of people who had chosen to stay in for the night. The sound of music playing far away blended with the grumble of vehicle engines and the murmur of conversations playing out below on the sidewalk. Even though the air was cold, the space Geri had made still felt magical.

  A bright flash drew Amy's attention. An orange glow reflected on the glass panel façade of Quantum's building. She unfolded her legs and scrambled to her feet. As she ducked under a strand of low-hanging lights on her way to the edge of the roof, a boom echoed through the canyons formed by the downtown streets and buildings. The orange light surged up the side of the structure Alex was in as screams rose from people on the sidewalks below. Red-hot terror took her breath away. Something was terribly wrong. Her husband was in danger.

  "Call 9-1-1," she screamed as she sprinted past Geri on her way to the door. She needed to get to Quantum to see what was on fire.

  "Be careful," Geri called as Amy's footsteps thundered in the stairwell. Her lungs throbbed as she alternated between running and stumbling down the seemingly endless flights of dimly lit stairs. She dashed across the foyer and shoved open the door that opened onto the alley in the middle of the block. Her footsteps echoed as she raced along the dark passageway until she reached a narrow opening between two buildings that led to the street that Quantum was on. The cold air soothed the fire in her chest as she hurtled toward the blaze, weaving between people on the sidewalk. Some people were running at her, while others were going the same direction, toward the undulating, orange glow that was lighting up the sky. Her trajectory arced into the company parking lot. Alex's black Jeep was parked in the row facing the sidewalk.

  The Dumpster had been transformed into a giant fire pit. The wooden fencing, which had hidden it from view, seethed with flames as a giant column of solid fire rose from the metal bin. Black smoke blocked most of the light from the street lamp at the corner of the parking lot. A crowd was gathering—lines of people snaked between the parked cars to get a better view of the inferno.

  Amy pushed her way through a knot of bystanders. "Excuse me…I need to get through…please move!" Finally, she made it to Quantum's employee entrance. Another group of people had gathered on the cement pad there. She recognized them as employees, and in the center was her husband. "Alex!"

  He squeezed between two men and caught her when she flung herself at him. He didn't say a word, just hugged her so tightly she struggled to take a breath. She listened to his heartbeat thundering in her ear as she laid her head on his chest. "What does this mean?" she whispered.

  "I don't know." He ran his hand over her hair. "My guess is someone is carrying out the threat from the email."

  As they turned to watch the fire rage, sirens made Amy's eardrums vibrate. A yellow fire engine pulled up on the street behind the inferno. A squad of firefighters surged around the burning trash bin, showering it with water. Ghostly white steam entwined with the black smoke.

  Geri appeared by Amy's side. "Is anybody hurt?" she asked.

  Alex shook his head. "No. Some very rattled nerves, but everybody who was working in the building with me is okay."

  Geri stared at the ebbing flames. "Somebody didn't want something to be found."

  Three hours later, Amy stared at the bubble of light shining on
the bedroom ceiling from the night-light in the master bathroom. The glow was a benign, small-scale version of the fire that had lit up the night in downtown Kellerton. And could've possibly killed Alex and many other people. The firemen couldn't determine what had caused the blaze. The wreckage was still smoking hot, even though the flames had been extinguished, when she and Alex finally decided to go home at midnight. Even though she was snuggled up in her comfortable bed, next to her husband's warm body, she couldn't sleep. She may as well have spent the rest of the night standing in front of the window of Alex's office, staring at the carnage because that was all she could think about. Geri's uncensored exclamation that the fire was set to destroy evidence had left her feeling as though she had consumed three giant sticky buns before heading to bed. If the fire wasn't connected to the angry email threat, could the police have missed a clue that the killer wanted to make sure wouldn't be found?

  * * *

  Amy sprinkled curly threads of lemon zest on the soup. The bright-green pea soup contrasted beautifully with the aqua-blue Fiesta bowl. She repositioned the camera attached to the small tripod. Mother Nature was providing the lighting for the photo shoot. Too bad she didn't feel as cheerful as the weather looked.

  The fire had been terrifying, maddening, baffling, and about a hundred other emotions—none of them pleasant. Trying to make sense of everything had left her tired and frazzled. The best way to remedy that sort of situation was to, as always, cook. Chopping, slicing, sautéing, and simmering—the kitchen meditation for serenity. Too bad it wasn't the foolproof way to solve complicated problems. Inventing three new soup recipes was great, but she still had no idea if there was a connection between Phoebe Plymouth's murder and the very bad things which were happening at Quantum.

  A high-pitched beep put a hold on the photo session. After brainstorming ingredients while she was drinking her morning coffee, she had typed up the rough drafts of the recipes, printed them out, and began cooking. Maybe not such a brilliant idea, in retrospect. Amy sighed as she shuffled back to the stove. Just going back and forth between the stove and her makeshift photo booth on the breakfast nook table was exhausting. She silenced the noise on the electronic timer, which was sitting on the recipe for mushroom and barley soup. It was time to add the parsley and roasted red pepper chunks. She looked at the rainbow-colored piles of chopped vegetables and herbs arranged on cutting boards on the island. There were kale and thyme, but no parsley. The bundle of parsley sprigs was still sitting in the Mason jar filled with water. She twisted off a handful of leaves and tossed them onto an empty area on one of the cutting boards. The chef's knife quickly turned the green leaves into herbal confetti. She set the knife down and scooped up the mound of minced herbs. The back of her index finger slid along the edge of the blade.