S.D. Youngren - Rowena 6 - Rowena Moves In.txt

by Rowena Moves In

  Her beautiful cake, lumpy and less than half its former height.

  "Damn," Rowena said again. Sammy had had her cakes before, of course; she didn't actually need this one to prove to him that she could bake.

  But it was her first cake in their new home.

  Her supposed good omen.

  "How could I be so stupid?" she asked herself. The timer went off and Rowena sighed; she got a toothpick and went back to the oven. The cake--such as it was--was done. She pulled it out of the oven and put it, in the pans, on the cooling racks she had set out. She wasn't sure she could use the racks with this cake, wasn't sure it would stay sufficiently together. Rowena felt like wilting. She had never ruined a cake before--never!--and here this one looked like something her sister might have made. She spent the next ten minutes pacing around, then tried to remove the ugly layers from the pans without their falling completely apart.

  They did break, but only into a few large pieces.

  She stood and stared at them, then closed her eyes. The phone rang.

  It was Sammy.

  "I'm almost done here," he said. "I should be able to leave in just a few minutes."

  Rowena looked around at the wreck of her cake, at all the dirty dishes and the cake crumbs under the cooling racks. "Good," she said.

  "Are you okay?"

  Rowena took hold of the phone cord. "Just tired," she said, which was true, in a way. "I'll see you when you get here."

  "Okay," Sammy said. "Take it easy."

  Take it easy, Rowena thought, looking again at the mess. Right.

  By the time Sammy arrived--proclaiming himself very pleased to be home--Rowena had wiped and set the table and put together a perfectly presentable spaghetti dinner for two. Some dishes still sat in the sink, but there was no sign that a disaster had taken place. Sammy told her about his extended work day; Rowena told him, without mentioning the cake, that her mother had called to interrupt what should have been their dinner hour, to make sure they were having a romantic evening. Sammy laughed at the story, ate his dinner with enjoyment, helped her clear the table, then asked, "Anything special for dessert?"

  Special. She made him go sit down. Then she assembled it and brought it out: Two bowls, each containing a scoop of French vanilla ice cream nestled into a jumble of fallen-chocolate-cake pieces, with cherry pie filling poured over the top.

  "Goodness," Sammy said. "What's this?"

  "That's, um . . . Chocolate Surprise."

  "It looks wonderful," Sammy said. He didn't start in, though, until she'd seated herself in front of her own bowl.

  It tasted good. Very good.

  "Mmmm," Sammy said. "Wonderful. You sure know how to welcome a guy home." He scooped up another forkful. "Are you going to have stuff like this for me every night?" He smiled at her to show it was a compliment rather than a demand.

  "Um, actually, I wasn't going to make you anything like this tonight. I . . . I ruined a cake, actually, and . . . well, I had to do something to it."

  "This? Was ruined?"

  "I tried to bake a cake but it fell. I have never had a--"

  "Wow," Sammy said. "This, from a fallen cake? You are clever." He was actually impressed. Rowena didn't think she'd done anything that brilliant, and she still felt embarrassed about having made the cake fall in the first place.

  Well, maybe just a little embarrassed.

  She studied her dessert, the fudgy cake pieces and the ice cream and the cherries in their rich sauce. The whole thing did actually look like a selection from some restaurant's Decadent Sweets menu. "Thank you," she said, and smiled at him.

  And had another bite of Chocolate Surprise.

  Rowena Warms Her Home

  Fiction by S. D. Youngren

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Rowena shook her head. "It terrifies me, the thought of my mother and my sister meeting everybody."

  "Come on," said Sammy. "It's just a party. There's nobody coming you haven't already met and made a good impression on. What's the worst that could possibly happen?"

  Rowena groaned. "Look," Sammy said. "We'll have some interesting, entertaining people here. I'm sure somebody will be able to keep your mother and Maralynne distracted."

  "Yeah," said Rowena. "Like Terese. She'll keep them distracted, or drive them to distraction. I can't wait."

  "I'm sure Terese can behave. Anyway, they must have met her already."

  "True. And as long as Terese stays at one end of the apartment so they can hide at the other end, all three of them should be fine."

  "Well," said Sammy. "You see? Nothing to worry about. Hand me that shoebox, will you? Thanks."

  They still had just a little bit of unpacking to do before their big housewarming party. But it was not the unpacking that worried Rowena. "And then they'll be meeting your mom." Rowena stopped, a fuzzy stuffed pig named Truffles in her hands.

  "Relax. My mom's cool. And she's already been warned."

  Rowena hugged the pig to her. "What if--"

  "Darling, it'll be fine." He came to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her. "It's just a party," he said.

  The phone rang, and Rowena went to answer it. "Hello?"

  "Hello, Rowena, this is your mother. I just wanted to see if everything's all right over there."

  "Everything's fine," Rowena said. "Everything is still fine."

  "If you need any help unpacking--"

  "We're just finishing up."

  "Or planning--"

  "Already done. Same as yesterday, and the day before, and the day--"

  "Or cooking--"

  "Thanks, Mom, but I really--"

  "Or your laundry, you know, to give you time--"

  "Mom, that really isn't--"

  "You just let me know."

  "Thanks, Mom."

  "I'm so excited!" her mother said.

  Finally Rowena managed to hang up the phone. "She really is a basket case," she told Sammy. She noticed she was clutching her pig, and loosened her grip somewhat. "You sure we shouldn't have told her to come an hour after everybody else?" She'd suggested this some days ago, in hopes of keeping her mother from popping in early to "help."

  "I thought you decided she'd find out, and guess why, and get mad at you."

  "Oh, I don't know."

  "If it helps any," Sammy suggested, "you could tell her we like to cook together in the nude."

  "You," said Rowena loftily, "are a very big help." She flounced off, with pig, doing her best to look offended.

  But she did feel a little better.

  By the day of the party, Rowena and Sammy were entirely unpacked, the apartment was tidy, and the food preparations were on schedule. "Everything still fine?" Terese had asked the night before. "Continued fine, with occasional scattered mothers?" At the time, Rowena had groaned in response; now, frosting the cake, she found herself smiling.

  And the phone rang. This time, it was her sister. "Are there gonna be any Capricorns at your party?" she demanded.

  "I have no idea."

  "You don't know? You didn't bother to check?"

  "I wasn't aware," Rowena told her, "that it was going to be a problem."

  "Great. That's just great. Madame Zelda--"

  "Maralynne, I can hardly be responsible for anything Madame Zelda says. I--"

  "Some sister you are. You know I'm delicate."

  When Rowena finally got off the line she told Sammy, "This party is driving me nuts and it hasn't even started yet." She gestured at the phone. "Next time, you answer it." They didn't have to wait long; "next time" came about ten minutes later, as Rowena was putting the cake away. Sammy glanced at her, then picked up the receiver. "Hello? . . . No, thank you; we're not interested. Goodbye." He set the receiver down and grinned at her. "Piece of cake. So to speak." He kissed her temple. "Courage," he said. "I'm going to take my shower now."

  He was still taking it when the phone rang again. Rowena reminded hers
elf that she had, earlier that morning, absolutely forbidden her mother to call again, and bravely picked it up. "Hello?" Rowena said.

  "Your mother wanted me to check and see how everything's going there." It was her father. Rowena was so surprised to hear his voice she wasn't even annoyed. He went on, "She says you just keep telling her it's fine."

  "It is fine," Rowena said.

  "Glad to hear it. I'll tell your mother." And he rang off.

  Rowena stared a moment at the receiver, then hung it up. Let her mother sort that one out. What a day, she thought. What a family.

  And they were all coming to her housewarming party.

  Once the guests began to arrive Rowena slipped all but effortlessly into what Terese called Hostess Mode. Terese herself laughed and chatted with Sammy's friends; Beth, a little less outgoing, also seemed to be mixing well. The apartment was crowded, with people in the living room and in the kitchen, but nobody seemed to mind at all. Rowena's parents and sister had yet to appear, a fact noted by by Sammy's friend Mike, who came in, glanced around the assemblage, and remarked that Rowena's relatives must be late, as he didn't see anybody causing a scene or even looking peculiar. Rowena took him over and introduced him to Terese; this was, she told herself, the only reasonable thing to do.

  "Keep him out of trouble," she said.

  "Why, what kind of trouble does he get into?"

  "He's been asking about my family. Tell him what you like, but don't let me hear it."

  Terese laughed. "They're dominating the party and they aren't even here yet," she said. "How's that for psychic powers?"

  "Please," said Rowena, and left them.

  Her parents arrived a few minutes later.

  "Oh, my, I hope we're not late?" Rowena's mother scanned anxiously around, looking, Rowena knew, for some sign of a woman who might be Sammy's mother. "Your father just had to see the end of his ballgame, and I simply could not get--if we're too late--"

  "You're not too late. Rosemary's not here yet. Could I--"

  "Oh, that's a relief. But she is coming? How nice. What makes you think I'm only here to meet Sammy's mother? Are you sure you don't need any help in the kitchen?"

  "Everything's already done; I just have to bring it out. There's nothing all that complicated anyway; we can't put everybody around the table, so--"

  "Rowena! Are you sure that's going to be good enough?"

  "Rosemary won't mind."

  "Rosemary this, Rosemary that. You'd think this was her party." And her mother swept into the room, leaving Rowena staring after her. And then Rowena turned around.

  "Hi, Dad," she said.

  "Got any beer?" asked Rowena's father.

  Rowena installed him, with beer, over by a couple of Sammy's mellower friends. She retreated to the kitchen, to open a fresh bag of potato chips.

  ". . . So I just didn't feel I had any choice."

  "God. I don't blame you."

  "Is this my glass or yours?"

  "What a cute little dog! Isn't he a sweetie? Hi there, Sweetie!"

  "His name's Linus. He's Rowena's dog."

  "I know; Sammy's told me about him. Hi there!"

  Rowena smiled, listening. And then the doorbell rang and before she could get to it the door opened and she heard Rosemary's voice and, much as she liked Sammy's mother, all she could think now was, here it comes.

  And, sure enough, her mother whizzed past as if pulled by elastic. "So you're Sammy's mother! How nice to meet you at last!"

  "Hello," said Rowena. "Good to--"

  "I've heard so much about you! I kept saying, `When am I going to meet Sammy's mother?' but you know how these kids are, they just can't take a hint."

  "Hello," Rosemary began.

  "Wilder!" called Rowena's mother. "Over here! Come and meet Sammy's mother!"

  Rowena tried again. "Could I take--"

  "Wild-er!"

  It had begun.

  By the time Rowena put out the actual dinner, all the guests had arrived but Maralynne and Chester. Rowena's father had found that he could discuss sports with Sammy's friend Ken, without even having to raise his voice; her own friends and her cousin Claudia mixed nicely with the people Sammy had invited; people were talking and laughing, and everyone seemed to be getting along quite well . . . with one possible exception.

  "We have to get together on this," Rowena heard her mother say. She had, of course, seated herself next to Rosemary, who sat quietly and inoffensively eating. "We need a Strategy."

  "Strategy?" asked Rosemary politely.

  "Oh, my, doesn't this taste good? My daughter made all the food herself; isn't she a wonderful cook? Now, let's see; I'm sure you have a lot of influence over your son. He always speaks so highly of you. Such a fine boy . . ." She put her hand on Rosemary's sleeve. "I'm sure that if he only understood the importance of--"

  Rowena couldn't think of a good enough excuse to haul her mother away, and had to settle for getting herself out of earshot. She wished the apartment were bigger, so that she could do this more effectively.

  "Your mom is really hot on the trail, isn't she?" It was Rowena's cousin Claudia.

  "Tell me about it," Rowena said. Her mother seemed too worked up to even notice Maralynne's tardiness.

  Claudia sipped her soda. "On the warpath, even. So to speak. Good chow, by the way."

  "Thanks."

  "At least nobody's yelling or anything."

  "Well--" Rowena began, when somebody impatient enough to be Maralynne rang the doorbell.

  "I hope there's some food left because Chester is starving. Is everybody here?"

  "Yes," Rowena said. It was an important point, for Maralynne; what she really meant was, "Do I have a full audience for my Entrance?" A more important point for Rowena was, "Who is this person with you?" because whoever she was, she certainly wasn't Chester.

  Maralynne swept into the living room, loudly exclaiming her delight at being there, and her sorrow at being late, and so on. And then she announced, more or less in her sister's direction, "I would like you to meet my friend, the up-and-coming psychic Sunnie Daye."

  "That's S-U-N-N-I-E-D-A-Y-E," said Sunnie Daye primly. Sunnie Daye did not look very prim. She was a small, colorfully dressed creature with very long blonde hair and iridescent blue eyeshadow. She also had dimples, which for some reason Rowena found annoying; she had the impression that they had been acquired, or that they were a trick that Sunnie had trained her face to do. "Tarot readings, Astrology, Numerology, Palm Reading, and . . . Aural Adjustments."

  "So what happened to Madame Zelda?" asked Rowena. "And where's Chester?"

  "Sunnie is a student of Madame Zelda's. Madame Zelda says she's very gifted. Madame Zelda says Sunnie has a light-fingered touch with the cards. Madame Zelda says--"

  "A light touch," corrected Sunnie. "I have a light touch with the Tarot."

  "Whatever," said Maralynne. She sashayed herself over to the table. "Let's get some food," she said. "Sunnie Sue." She reached, not for a plate, but for a pickle. "Sunnie Sue Daye."

  Rowena followed her. "Where's Chester?" she asked again.

  "Chester? Chester's getting the stuff out of the car."

  "What stuff?" asked Rowena, guardedly.

  "Not supposed to tell you. It's Chester's idea." And she went back to her browsing.

  Rowena stood a moment, irresolute; the doorbell rang. Sammy let in Chester, or somebody who was probably Chester, though it was hard to tell behind all the computer parts he carried.

  "Chester?"

  "I got your new network for you," Chester said. "Surprise!"

  "Our . . ."

  "It's a Housewarming Present," Maralynne explained.

  Rowena looked at Sammy. "Chester, it was very thoughtful of you, but I'm afraid you spent an awful--"

  "Chester knows how to get, like, all these really good Deals and stuff, and free stuff and . . . stuff," Maralynne said. She picked up a plate and put a slice of bread on it.

  "Well . . ." Rowena began.


  "So where'd ya want it?"

  Rowena looked again at Sammy; he gave a very slight shrug. "Let's check out the office," he told Chester. And the two of them disappeared. When they didn't come out for a while, Rowena, recalling Maralynne's assertion that Chester was hungry, brought in a moderately-loaded plate and a couple of sodas.