by Tamar Myers
‘Oh. But then what’s a dirty old goat doing in your bed?’
Agnes’s eyes misted up. ‘You hit the nail on the head. Gruff is old: at this stage he’s only partially housebroken, as I said. He’s no longer sexually active, he smells of body odour, he passes gas all night, he belches nearly constantly and he snores loud enough to drown out the cicadas when I leave the windows open. To sum it up, having an old billy goat in bed with me is like having a little bit of Doc back.’
I nodded slowly, as I was forced to punch yet another hole in my judgement ticket. ‘I’m sorry – yet again, I’m afraid. You do know that jumping to conclusions is how I manage to keep my girlish figure.’
‘That and running off at your mouth.’
‘Yes, I suppose that I deserve that.’
I scratched old Gruff between his two wicked horns. He seemed to really like that and kept nuzzling me for more attention. When I tried to stop he headbutted me with the front of his horns and knocked me out of my chair.
‘Bad Gruff, bad Gruff,’ Agnes said in the high-pitched tones of someone speaking to a baby or a real pet.
‘Agnes,’ I said, ‘you do realize that you could well end up being impaled on those things. Those horns.’
‘I’ll take my chances.’
We sat in silence until the chill of an autumn afternoon forced us to make decisions. I was the first to get up and call it a day.
‘Well, I had best be going,’ I said. ‘My family will be getting back from the fair with their tales of a giant pumpkin. I’ll have to feign surprise.’
‘Somehow I think that you’ll manage,’ she said. I didn’t know how to interpret her comment, but in any case, she wasn’t through speaking. ‘Magdalena, are you happy with your life?’
‘Am I happy with my life?’
‘It’s a simple question, Mags.’
‘No, it’s not. Let me turn it around; are you happy with your life?’
Agnes looked away to the gathering shadows along the edge of the woods. ‘No. I am not.’
I was stunned. ‘Why not?’
‘I don’t have a legacy. I’m half a century old, Mags, and I haven’t done anything that will be remembered by anyone after I’m gone.’
‘But that is so not true,’ I said.
‘Name one thing that I’ve done that’s made a difference,’ she said.
‘You volunteer for the Suicide Prevention Hotline. You organized a local fund drive for victims of the earthquake in Nepal. You drive meals to shut-ins and you even clean the home of one of them, a woman who is too disabled to do it for herself. Oh, yes, and you read to those blind Amish who will not avail themselves of books on tape.’
‘But who will remember me when I’m gone?’
‘My children. The children in the Sunday school class that you teach, and which you’ve taught for the last twenty-five years. Your neighbours, and their children, will remember you. Just about everyone in the community will.’
At last, Agnes smiled. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘But you still haven’t answered my question. Are you happy?’
‘I’m content,’ I said. ‘And I’m content with being content.’
THIRTY
GLUTEN-FREE TOFFEE APPLE CINNAMON ROLLS
Dough
1 medium tart apple, peeled and chopped
1 tbsp thawed apple juice concentrate
2/3 cup plus 2 tbsp sugar (or equivalent), divided
1½ tsp ground cinnamon
2½ cups white rice flour
½ tsp xanthium gum (available at health-food shops)
1¼ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1¼ cups buttermilk
6 tbsps butter, melted and divided
¼ cup toffee bits
Glaze
1½ cups confectioners’ sugar
3 tbsp thawed apple juice concentrate
2 tbsp toffee bits
Directions
Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. In a microwave-safe bowl, combine apple and apple juice concentrate; microwave, covered, on high for 1–2 minutes until tender.
Drain; cool slightly. In a small bowl, mix 2/3 cup sugar and cinnamon.
In a large bowl, whisk flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt and remaining sugar.
Stir in buttermilk and 2 tbsp melted butter. Turn onto a lightly floured surface; Knead ten times.
Roll dough into a 12 × 9 inch rectangle. Brush with 2 tbsp of melted butter to within a half-inch of the edges; sprinkle with toffee bits plus the sugar mixture and apple from Step 1. Roll up jelly roll-style, starting with long side; pinch seam to seal. Cut into eight slices.
Place in a greased 9 inch round baking pan. Brush with remaining butter. Bake for 22–28 minutes or until golden brown.
Cool for 5 minutes; remove from pan. To make the glaze, mix confectioners’ sugar and juice concentrate. Spread over rolls; sprinkle with toffee bits.
These rolls taste far better than store-bought gluten-free cinnamon rolls.