by Robin Brande
“Open up...”
David opened his mouth just enough to allow the merest taste of what Hildy held out on a plastic fork. He swilled it around on his tongue and opened his eyes.
And against all odds, he smiled.
“Yes, Mrs. Shepherd, you’re right.”
Hildy nodded in satisfaction. “I made a whole batch just for you. Come by on your way out and I’ll send some home.”
The woman behind him poked him in the back. “What is it, Davey?”
Eliza thought for a fleeting moment the man had blushed. Impossible.
“N-nothing. I have to go find Ted. I’ll meet you back in liquor.”
The woman stared after him, obviously displeased with his reaction to her teasing. Quickly she shifted gears and went about trying to charm Hildy.
“Tell me, what was that?” she asked. “It looked sort of like—”
Hildy held her finger to her lips. “Old secret. Sorry, can’t tell you.”
The woman turned to Eliza. “Crafty, isn’t she? Maybe you’ll tell me.”
“I have no idea.”
The woman smiled as if she practiced smiling an hour every day. “I’ll take some of the mushrooms, please. No potatoes—they make you fat.”
“They make you fat,” Hildy muttered under her breath as soon as the woman was gone. She spooned an extra large helping into the next person’s glass. “Potatoes are good for you.” She clucked to herself a few more minutes while continuing to serve her customers. Finally she cooled down enough to switch topics. “Did you hear that? Davey still has a little of his old stutter.”
“He stutters?” Eliza whispered through her most professional server smile.
“He’s much better. It used to be so bad you’d think he’d never get through a sentence.”
“I didn’t even hear it.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t if you didn’t know. Back again?” she asked a young woman in line. “Good for you! Potatoes’ll keep your hair shiny.”
* * *
“How’s it going?” Ted asked. He looked considerably more relaxed than the last time Eliza had seen him. The glass in his hand might have had something to do with it.
“Fine. Perfect,” Hildy reported. She checked her watch. “How much longer do you figure?”
Ted, too, consulted his watch. “Maybe another hour. They’re still coming.”
It was true. Even now, past nine o’clock, a steady stream of finely-dressed customers continued to enter the store.
Eliza remained amazed. “What are all these people doing here on a Friday night?”
“I told you,” Ted said, “it’s a shopping and dining experience. This isn’t just a grocery store, Lizzy—”
Eliza winced at the familiarity. Only her family and Hildy called her that. Even Jamey had only called her “Liz,” or “El.”
Ted leaned over the table. Eliza automatically took half a step back. She could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“I’m telling you,” Ted whispered, “this store is going to be the biggest seller yet—much bigger than any of David’s.”
“I see,” Eliza said, “so it’s a competition?”
“No,” Ted answered, “it’s all in the family, of course. But it never hurts to beat my big brother at something, does it? Especially if it benefits us both?”
“Of course not,” Hildy answered with a wink. “I promise to only shop here, even though the one in Careyville is much closer. That’s Davey’s, isn’t it?”
“Well, technically they’re all all of ours, right? But yeah, that one’s David’s.”
“I’ll drive up here,” Hildy promised. “For whatever good it does you. I appreciate you giving me the chance to work here tonight. I’d like to start planning some classes here as soon as you’re ready.”
“Right...classes.” Ted shifted his attention back to Eliza. “Do you teach those, too?”
“No, I write, remember?” Never much of a drinker herself, Eliza always felt a little prim when it came to alcohol. She could tolerate a little bit of drunkenness, but not much more. And Ted Walsh seemed to be bordering on much more. It surprised her that he would jeopardize his responsibility for the evening, but maybe he had had a few drinks to calm his nerves, and had just forgotten when to stop.
“Should I add more potatoes?” Eliza asked Hildy, trying to redirect the conversation.
“I don’t know, do you think we’ll see that many more people tonight, Teddy?”
“I hope so!” he said. “Bring out everything you’ve got. If they don’t eat it, I will.”
When Ted finally wandered off, Eliza had her first opportunity to quiz her mother-in-law. The stream of customers in front of them had temporarily stopped.
“All right, what was it?” Eliza asked.
“What was what?”
“You know. I saw what you fed David Walsh—it wasn’t the recipe you showed me.”
Hildy smiled. “Some memories never die.”
“Such as?”
“Aren’t there some foods you loved when you were a little girl, and you still love today?”
“Of course.”
“Probably things your mother made you, right?”
“Yes, so what was it?”
Hildy retrieved the mystery container and popped open an edge.
“Brownies?”
“Not just brownies,” Hildy said. “Special—” Her eyes shifted upward as she tried to recall the full title. “Special Super-Duper Delicious Amazing Remarkable Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chunk Brownies with Marshmallow Frosting.”
“Oh, my gosh, that sounds disgusting.”
Hildy laughed. “I know, it does, doesn’t it? But the boys used to love them.”
“Who? What boys?”
“Jamey and the neighbor boys, including Teddy and Davey Walsh. I bet he hasn’t thought of those in years.” Hildy patted another small container. “I made a separate batch for Teddy. I’m going to surprise him.”
“Wait a minute, Teddy and Davey—David—were neighbors of yours?”
“Sort of. Their parents owned that house on the other side of the fields where you take Daisy. In fact, those are their old fields—six of them, I think. They sold them to the state a few years ago when they made the lake into a state park.”
“So that’s all Walsh land—the trails—all of it?”
“Everything from the hill down to the lake.”
“Do the parents still live there?”
“Their mother’s a widow. She moved to Monarch a few years ago, probably to be closer to Suzy. Davey owns the old house now.”
* * *
It was nearly midnight before Hildy agreed to pack everything away. Eliza’s feet throbbed. Her back ached from standing so long.
The jazz band Ted had hired to get people dancing was finally packing up, too. The band members wandered among the remaining tables, searching for any leftovers.
“I just realized we didn’t get to eat anything,” Hildy said, watching them. “I really wanted to try that mousse.”
“Want me to see if they have any left?”
“Sure. That’s sweet of you.”
Eliza spoke to the chocolate mousse woman and carried back two plastic cups filled to the brim. The woman had even crowned each serving with a mountain of whipped cream.
Eliza retrieved a tablecloth from one of the cleared tables and spread it on the floor. Then she and Hildy sat with their backs against the wall, enjoying a midnight picnic of chocolate.
Ted found them on the floor, savoring the last of their cups. He plopped onto the tablecloth beside Eliza. He laid his head on her shoulder. “I’m whipped.”
She politely pushed him off. Clearly he had continued to sample his store’s wine after they last saw him. “You’re not driving home like this, you know.”
Ted smiled at Eliza. “Oh, you care?”
Hildy brightened. “Good idea. We’ll take you home.”
Eliza wasn’t anxious to spend any more time
with the drunken Ted, but she also wasn’t about to let him endanger himself or others on the road. He had no way of knowing, she thought to herself, but he’d fallen down several notches in her estimation that night: gone from charming to reckless. She expected him to act more professional—mature—at the grand opening of his own store.
Ted rested his head on Eliza’s shoulder once more, and she removed it once again. She stood and pretended there was still more cleaning to do.
“I almost forgot,” Hildy said. “I have something for you.” She pulled one of the plastic containers from the stack beside her. “Remember these?”
Ted smiled when he saw the brownies. “Not the whole thing? Everything?”
“Peanut butter, marshmallows, everything,” Hildy confirmed.
“Mrs. S., you slay me. You have my heart.” He took a bite and savored it. He held out the remainder of the brownie to Eliza. “Have you tried these?”
“No, thanks, I’m not a big fan of marshmallows.”
Ted stood. “You have to try it.” He pressed the brownie toward Eliza’s mouth. She turned just in time to feel the sticky marshmallow against her cheek.
Ted laughed. “I’m sorry!” He used the end of his sleeve to wipe it off.
“It’s okay,” Eliza said irritably. She caught Ted’s wrist. “Please stop. I’ll do it myself.”
Ted widened his eyes at Hildy. “Ooh, touchy, isn’t she?”
Eliza glanced up and saw David Walsh standing in a nearby aisle, watching. As soon as she caught his eye he turned around.
“We should go,” Eliza said. “Ted, we’re giving you a ride.”
“Okay,” he said. He held out his wrists as if for handcuffs. “I’ll go quietly.”
Eliza ignored him. She put on her coat and loaded Hildy’s equipment and containers onto two carts. “Here,” she told Ted, “you push that one.” She was tired of babying him. She wanted nothing more to do with him.
Once everything—including Ted—was loaded into Hildy’s car, Eliza had a flash of guilt.
“Hold on.” A promise was a promise.
She opened the back of Hildy’s car and took out the container she had deliberately left on top. Pulling her coat close around her to fight off the wind, Eliza hurried back into the store.
She found David in the back, checking inventory against a list.
“Here,” Eliza said, handing him the plastic container. “From Hildy.”
David briefly met Eliza’s eyes, then accepted the brownies with a nod.
“Th—” He paused, swallowed. “Thank her.”
“I will.”
Eliza turned and strode back the way she came. Maybe David Walsh was cold and surly, but at least he wasn’t drunk.
Ted chatted merrily the whole way to his house, recounting the evening’s highlights. Eliza glared out the window. When they pulled up in front of his house, Hildy handed him the container of brownies she’d kept in the front seat, and thanked him again for letting her cater the event. “I’ll call you Monday about classes. I’d like to start them right away.”
“Call me,” he agreed. “Call me,” he told Eliza as well.
“Good night,” she said coldly.
Ted exited the back seat, slammed the door, and tapped on Eliza’s window. Reluctantly she lowered it.
“You looked beautiful tonight,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I think I love you.” He straightened and waved to them both.
“Ass,” Eliza muttered as they drove away.
“He was nervous about tonight,” Hildy said. “You saw that. He’s not usually like that.”
“How do you know? You haven’t seen him in years.”
“I know how he was when I met with him last week. And I know how he was when we came to his house. You saw—wasn’t he different then?”
“Maybe he just hadn’t hit the bottle yet.”
“Give the boy some credit,” Hildy said. “He’s a very successful young man. So what if he gets a little high-spirited now and then?”
“I’ve been around a lot of drunks, Hildy. The guys on the outdoor circuit are famous for it. Jamey didn’t drink—he didn’t have to. He was funny and charming as he was.”
“Teddy is funny and charming, too. I think you make him nervous.”
“Oh, now I’m the one who made him nervous? First it was the store—”
Hildy pulled to the side of the street and turned to her daughter-in-law. “Lizzy, did you not hear the man tell you he loves you?”
Eliza laughed. “He was drunk!”
“A man can say what’s in his heart much more easily if he’s had a few.”
“If I believed every drunk guy who told me I was beautiful or he wanted to marry me or he loved me...” Eliza sighed. “Just give it up, Hildy. You’re not going to find a new husband for me among the famous men of Syracuse.”
Hildy shrugged. “I’m just saying, he’s normally a very nice man. He’s always been a sweetheart. And did you notice he didn’t have a date tonight?”
“I understand why.”
“Do you? It’s because he wanted to flirt with you.”
“No, it’s because no one would have him.”
Hildy huffed as she resumed her drive back home. “No one would have him—do you understand how much money that family has?”
“It doesn’t make up for bad manners—you’ve said so yourself. That arrogant David, and Ted stumbling all over the place. Unless their sister has any manners, I’d say it skipped a whole generation.”
“No, their parents are pretty awful,” Hildy confessed. “Sibylla Walsh is a horror. And that husband, rest in peace, was as rude as they come.”
“See?”
They rode in exhausted silence the rest of the way home. As they carried the leftover food up the stairs, Hildy tried one more time.
“You should call him in the morning to make sure he’s all right.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Even if it means the difference between your mother-in-law starving and being able to make a living?”
Eliza groaned. “It shouldn’t depend on me.”
“But it wouldn’t hurt for you to be nice to him, would it?”
“You are an evil, conniving woman,” Eliza said. “I’m not talking about this anymore.”
Hildy sank into one of the kitchen chairs. “Oof. I’m too old to stay up so late.”
“Me, too.” Eliza dropped into the chair across from her.
Hildy lifted her weary eyes to Eliza’s. “Honey, I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t mean it: You’re too hard sometimes. You don’t give in. You’re a lovely girl, but sometimes it’s hard for people to see it because you can be so hard.”
Eliza swallowed her answer. Her mother-in-law had hit a nerve she might not have known Eliza had.
It was something Jamey had worked on all the years of their marriage. Because Hildy was right: Eliza could be hard. Closed off to new people and new experiences. It was a matter of safety—something she’d always thought she needed to survive.
But Jamey had gently coaxed her from her cocoon. Pulled her out of the comfort of her routines. Shown her a world and a way of living she never could have imagined for herself.
And then the moment he died, she’d retreated from it so quickly. Pulled back. Closed in. Facing Jamey’s mother now, Eliza wondered if maybe she really did need some sort of outside intervention. Something to keep her from completely closing again.
She sighed deeply. “Hildy, I need you to understand: I don’t want a boyfriend. I’m being honest with you—I really can’t bear it if you’re going to push me at anyone. Do you understand?”
“Not a boyfriend,” Hildy agreed. “So how about a friend?”
“I’ve met a friend—Carolyn Jackson.”
“Another friend, then,” Hildy said. “Give him another chance. You’ll see what he’s really like.”
Eliza closed her tired eyes. “If I call him...”
“Just
to ask how he’s feeling. Tell him how nice his opening was.”
“Fine.” Eliza rose from her chair and headed down the hall for bed.
“Thanks for all your help tonight, honey.”
“You are sincerely welcome,” Eliza answered, “and I hope I won’t have to do it again for a long time.”
* * *
She waited until ten o’clock the next morning to place the call.
“Hello, Ted? It’s Eliza. Shepherd.”
“I know which Eliza. How are you?”
“Fine. I wondered...how you were?”
“You mean other than this jackass headache of mine? Oh, fine. Listen, I’m going to be out that way this afternoon. Can I stop by and bang my head against your wall?”
Eliza smiled despite herself. “Why would you want to do that?”
“To prove what a jackass I am. I can’t believe I slobbered all over you last night. Thankfully I can only remember parts of it, but please feel free to shoot me now.”
“You were nervous.”
“Got that right. A beautiful woman like you—”
“No,” Eliza cut him off, “I mean about the opening.”
“Ah, that was nothing—a few snacks, a little wine, some glad-handing—I’ve seen it all before. Can I take you to dinner?”
“No.”
“Not even if I give myself a huge lump on my head from banging it?”
“Especially not.”
“Eliza, I’m being serious here. I’d like to take you out.”
Eliza closed her eyes and knocked the phone against her forehead a few times. Then she put the phone back to her ear and said, “Look, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings—”
“Then don’t,” Ted insisted. “Look, it’s just dinner. I swear I’ll mind my manners, and if you have a terrible time you never have to speak to me again.”
“That’s an attractive offer—the last part.”
“And I won’t try to get by with giving you free food from Walsh’s. I’ll take you out for a proper meal.”
Eliza weighed her options and her fears carefully. “I really need you to understand that I don’t date—anyone. I don’t want to—ever.”