She grabbed the other mitt and removed the hot pans from the oven, placing each on its own cooling rack. Then, before she went back to her knitting, Thelma stood over the cakes and inhaled deeply as the steamy aroma rose from both pans. The whole kitchen smelled like Grandma’s Christmas cake. Thelma figured any minute now, Elma would appear, since the cake’s inviting smell seemed to be wafting through the house.
Thelma tilted her head, waiting to hear footsteps coming down the stairs. No sign of Elma, though. She must be in a sound sleep.
Half an hour later, Thelma checked the cake pans. They were still slightly warm, but she figured it would be okay to add the Jell-O now. After poking several holes in the first one, she mixed the red Jell-O and carefully spooned the crimson liquid over the top. Then she did the same with the other cake, spooning the warm green Jell-O over that half. When that was done, she covered both cakes with plastic wrap and set them in the refrigerator to cool more thoroughly. The recipe said the cakes should be refrigerated overnight or for a few hours.
I’ll probably stay up and finish the cake tonight, she told herself. Otherwise there will be too much to do in the morning.
Thelma left the kitchen and let Tiger in for the night. She wasn’t surprised to find him sitting by the back door. When she opened it, he meowed loudly then pranced inside as though he owned the place. With his tail in the air, Tiger strutted around the living room, purring, until he finally settled down on one of the throw rugs and fell asleep.
Thelma went back to the kitchen and glanced at the clock. It was nine o’clock, so at eleven she would take the pans from the refrigerator, remove the cake rounds, and put them together with filling between each layer. Once the top and sides of the cake had been frosted, she planned to add some red and green sprinkles to make it look more festive. That’s what Grandma had always done when she made her special Christmas cake.
Think I’ll go downstairs and see how the kittens are doing, Thelma decided. She grabbed her flashlight and headed down the stairs, careful to close the door behind her. If Tiger should awaken, she didn’t want him going to the basement and disturbing Misty and her babies.
When Thelma reached the bottom of the stairs, she turned on the overhead gas lamp and headed toward the back of the basement. The kittens’ eyes were open now, and they’d become quite active. Thelma knew it wouldn’t be long and they’d be getting out of the box. She would either have to find a taller box for them or put up some kind of a barricade. It wouldn’t be good to have them wandering all over the basement and possibly getting stuck behind something. They could get hurt.
Leaning down, she scooped up one of the kittens. It purred as she rubbed its head gently against her chin. “All bopplin are cute,” she murmured. “Human babies more so than others.” Unexpected tears sprang to Thelma’s eyes. If she remained single the rest of her life, she would never experience the joy of being a mother. Lord, help me not to long for something I may never have, she prayed silently.
The words of Philippians 4:11 came to mind: “For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.”
Feeling somewhat better, Thelma remained with the kittens and their mother awhile longer before going back upstairs. Knowing she needed to wash up after handling the cats, she went to the bathroom, where she removed some loose cat hair from her dress and washed her hands.
When she returned to the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator to check on the cakes. It was ten thirty, and she was beginning to feel tired, so she decided to take the cakes out of their pans, since they seemed to have cooled sufficiently. Using a spatula to loosen the cakes, she slid the first one onto a plate. After mixing the whipped topping with the creamed cheese, as per the directions in Grandma’s cookbook, she spread some of the creamy white mixture on the first cake round. Then she took out the second cake round and placed it on top of the first.
“Ach!” Thelma gasped. “The top of the cake looks a bit lopsided. I’ll need to do something about that.”
She pursed her lips. Maybe it wouldn’t be too difficult. All she needed to do was add more frosting to the side that looked uneven. “Easy as pie… I mean cake.” Thelma chuckled as she piled more frosting on the cake and spread it over the area that needed it the most. “Not too bad. I think it looks fine. I’ll add a bit more and then do the sides.”
Thelma had only added a little frosting to the sides, when Tiger darted into the room and leaped onto the counter, knocking over the bowl. Before Thelma could grab him, the cat swished his paw through the frosting. The next thing she knew, the bowl had rolled off the counter and landed upside down on the floor.
“Oh no! Get down, you bad cat!” Thelma groaned as Tiger leaped onto the floor and licked the frosting smeared on his paws. “I can’t use that topping now.” She didn’t have another tub of whipped cream, and no creamed cheese, either, so there was no way she could make another batch of icing. About all Thelma could do at this point was to add some sprinkles on the top, which she did right away. Once that was done, the cake looked a little better, though not the way she remembered Grandma’s Christmas cake, which had always looked perfect.
“It’ll have to do.” Thelma put the cake inside a plastic container and attached the lid. When she went to place it in the refrigerator she realized that the receptacle was too big. Placing it back on the counter, Thelma rearranged some of the items in the refrigerator. Then she picked up the container and tried once more. This time it fit, but with only an inch to spare.
She and Elma would only have to demonstrate how to bake the cake tomorrow then show this cake to the audience so they could see the finished product. She would simply explain that it was lacking some of the frosting.
Of course, she thought as she turned off the gas lamp, I still haven’t told Elma that we’ll be expected to stand up in front of everyone and do all the prep work for the cake. If she knew that, she’d probably refuse to go.
Chapter 16
When Elma entered the kitchen the next morning, she found her sister fixing a pot of tea. “Guder mariye.”
“Good morning.” Thelma smiled. “You look rested. Did you sleep well last night?”
“Jah, I did. How about you?”
“Not as soundly as I would have liked, but it’s my fault for getting to bed late.”
“How come you stayed up?” Elma questioned.
“I was frosting the cake.” Thelma grabbed a couple of floral-patterned cups from the cupboard and set them by the plates on the table. “The icing I sampled was quite tasty. Even the cat had a taste of it.”
“I’m glad the frosting was good, but how’d the cake turn out?” Elma sniffed the delicious aroma of peppermint tea. “It didn’t get too done, I hope.”
Thelma shook her head. “When the cake was finished it was a warm golden brown.” She motioned to the boiled eggs on the table. “I think we’d better eat so we can get ready to go to Shipshe. We don’t want to be late this morning.”
Elma sighed. “About the only good part of going there today is knowing that we’ll be taking Pearl and not Rusty.”
“Actually, we won’t be taking Pearl after all.”
“How come?” Elma’s shoulders slumped a bit.
“When I went out to the barn earlier to get her, I discovered that she’d thrown a shoe.”
“That’s not good.” Elma frowned. “I don’t want to take Rusty.”
“I know, and I’ll call the local farrier as soon as we get home.” Thelma gave Elma’s arm a light tap. “Don’t worry. I’ll be in the driver’s seat. I’m gonna follow the advice Dad gave me when he was here.”
“What advice was that?”
“I’ll take control and let Rusty know that he has to obey my commands.”
“I hope it works, because I’m not in the mood for his antics this morning.” Though Elma wasn’t happy about taking Rusty, at least the responsibility of getting him there was not hers. She hoped he would behave himself this time.
The twi
ns were halfway to Shipshewana when Rusty started lunging and lurching.
“What is that horse’s problem?” Elma touched her sister’s arm.
“I have no idea, but he’d better settle down.” Thelma’s jaw clenched so hard, Elma could hear her teeth snap together.
Elma’s back hurt as she sat firmly on the seat. “Maybe we should turn around and go home.”
With a determined expression, Thelma shook her head. “I’m sure he’ll settle down. Hold on to your seat so you don’t get jostled.” Her stern, take-control voice kicked in, and Thelma handled Rusty in a manner a lot like Dad would have used.
Elma did as her sister suggested, the whole time praying they would get to their destination safely. Finally—and much to Elma’s relief—the horse settled down. When they pulled up to the hitching rail near the Shipshewana Event Center, Elma climbed out of the buggy and secured Rusty.
“I’ll get the cake from the back,” Thelma said after she’d stepped down from her seat. “Oh, and Sister, before we go in, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What’s that?” Elma asked.
“When our names are called and we have to take our cake onstage before the bidding starts, we’ll need to demonstrate how to make the cake first.”
Elma stiffened and her mouth went dry. “Are you saying we have to make the cake in front of all those people?”
Thelma gave a quick nod.
“But we don’t have the necessary ingredients for that. All we brought was the finished cake, which, by the way, I haven’t seen yet.”
Thelma patted Elma’s arm. “You’ll see it when I take it out of the container, but that won’t happen till we’ve finished our demonstration.”
“Which we can’t do without the ingredients,” Elma reminded.
“I brought them along.” Thelma motioned to the back of the buggy. “They’re in that cardboard box with the cake. When I went to the grocery store in Topeka the other day, I got enough flour, milk, and other ingredients we need for the cake.” She smiled. “I even brought a large bowl, wooden spoon, and a wire whisk along.”
“What about the whipped topping and cream cheese to frost the cake?”
“We won’t have to worry about that part. All we have to show the audience is how to mix the cake, put it into the pans, and place it in the oven. Then we’ll take our finished cake out of the container and show them that,” Thelma explained. “Now would you like to carry the box, or should I?”
“I’ll do it,” Elma mumbled. It all sounded simple enough, but a sense of panic set in. The thought of cooking in front of a group of people, many of whom they would not know, made Elma nervous. She wondered if they’d made a big mistake coming here today.
“Let’s take a seat in the front row so we can see everything and be close to the stage,” Thelma suggested when they entered the building. Already, hundreds of people were milling around.
“I wish we could sit in the back and watch the proceedings.” Elma’s voice trembled a bit. “Look at all these people. I had no idea this event would draw such a big crowd.”
“If we sit in the back, we’ll have farther to walk when our names are called.” Thelma tugged on her sister’s arm. “Let’s look for a good seat before they’re all gone.”
When the twins found chairs in the first row, Elma set the box on the floor by her feet.
Looking at the stage in front of them, Thelma saw a stove with an oven, a long table, and several plastic bins full of cooking supplies, as well as a large pitcher of water.
The room was a-stir with people chatting and others still straggling in, looking for a place to sit or stand. Finally, things settled down as a tall English woman took the stage and turned on a microphone. Elma leaned close to Thelma and whispered, “We won’t have to say anything while we’re mixing the ingredients for the cake, I hope.”
All Thelma could do was shrug, for the woman in charge had begun speaking. “Welcome to our cooking show charity event,” she said. “We appreciate all of you who came out today. This event is something special for our community, since the money is going to a good cause. Because of that, we hope you will be generous with your bids and enjoy the show.”
Everyone clapped. Once the applause died down, the woman continued. “Thank you for such a warm welcome. To begin our program, we have two single ladies from Topeka. Elma and Thelma Hochstetler, would you please come up?”
“Here we go.” Elma picked up the box, and Thelma followed onto the stage. “I didn’t know we’d be the first ones,” Elma whispered.
Thelma put on her best smile. “Don’t worry. Afterward we can relax and watch everyone else.”
Elma’s face turned ashen when the host handed her the microphone. “Please tell us a little about your dessert and why you chose to make it today.”
Thelma thought she could hear her sister’s knees knocking as she said in a quavering voice, “This is our Grandma’s Christmas cake. We chose it in memory of her.”
The audience clapped, and Thelma noticed pink splotches had erupted on Elma’s cheeks. Her own face felt warm, too.
After Thelma placed the ingredients on the table, Elma picked up the recipe card. As she read the instructions, Thelma measured the ingredients. So far, so good.
Glancing at the audience, Thelma’s throat constricted. So many people, and they were all watching her and Elma. She didn’t realize being the center of attention would make her this nervous. Averting her gaze, she hurriedly mixed the flour and other dry ingredients. In the process, Thelma ended up with a puff of white on her dress, and some settled on her arm. Brushing it away, she looked at the snickering audience again. All eyes seemed to be focused on them.
“Be careful, Sister,” Elma warned. “You’re getting flour all over the place. By the way, you need to add the eggs and milk.”
“I—I know. I feel like I’m all thumbs right now,” Thelma muttered under her breath.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Try to stay calm,” Elma whispered. But her words were not reassuring.
Thelma frantically grabbed more flour and dumped it into the bowl.
“Sister, you’re not making bread.”
Thelma snickered. She didn’t know what else to do.
Then, in her nervous state, she managed to spill what was left in the bag of flour onto the floor. “Oh no!”
At the same time, the twins leaned down to reach for an egg and bumped heads. When they stood, they rubbed the spots of impact simultaneously. Another round of chuckles came from the crowd, making Thelma even more nervous.
With shaky fingers, she managed to crack the eggs into the bowl, but the shells fell in as well. “Oh, my word!” Thelma’s cheeks felt like they were on fire as she hastily picked out the pieces. This was not going well. She could only imagine what people must be thinking. They probably think we’re a couple of bumbling dummkepp who don’t know a thing about baking a cake.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” the host of the show asked.
As Thelma shook her head, Elma rolled her eyes.
“Pour the milk,” Elma said impatiently, nudging Thelma’s arm.
“I will. Don’t rush me.” Thelma picked up the carton of milk, but her hands shook so badly, she ended up pouring all of it into the bowl.
“Oh no, that’s too much.” Elma handed Thelma the microphone and grabbed the wire whisk. “Let me take over now.”
“I don’t see how you’re gonna fix that mess, Sister,” Thelma said, her mouth too close to the mic. Her eyes widened, and the audience roared.
When Elma stirred the batter, a glob splattered up and stuck to the end of her nose.
Thelma’s chuckle resonated through the microphone, as she pointed at Elma. Despite their best efforts, this was turning into an unrehearsed skit.
“I know that young woman—or at least one of them,” Delbert said, bumping Joseph with his elbow.
Joseph’s forehead wrinkled. “I know one of ’em, too. Well, maybe not know, but
I did meet her at the hardware store in Topeka a few weeks ago.”
“I met one of the twins at the hardware store here in Shipshe.” Delbert rubbed his chin. “Didn’t realize there were two of them, though. Thought I was seein’ one woman in two places.”
“They must be identical, because they sure look alike.” Joseph leaned forward in his chair. “I’m tryin’ to figure out which one of ’em I saw in Topeka.”
“They’re sure funny.” Delbert chuckled when the twin wearing the green dress stuck her hand in the bowl to fish out the spoon her sister had dropped. “I wonder if they’re really that clumsy or just puttin’ on an act to get the spectators enthused so they’ll make a high bid on their cake.”
“I don’t know.” Joseph leaned close to Delbert’s ear. “I really want that cake.”
Delbert looked at Joseph as though he had two heads. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”
“I know, but I want to meet that young woman.”
“Which one?”
“The one who’s holding the microphone now. Don’t know why, but the more I watch her, the more I’m thinkin’ she’s the woman I met in Topeka.”
“Oh, boy.” Delbert grunted. “What are we dealin’ with here—love at first sight?”
Joseph shook his head. “I’d like the chance to get to know her, and that won’t happen unless I get the cake.” The determined set of his friend’s jaw told Delbert that Joseph was serious about this.
“After the cooking show’s over, go on up and talk to her, Joe.”
Joseph slunk down in his chair. “I can’t do that, Dell. She’d think I was too bold. But if I bid on her cake and win, I’ll have a reason to speak with her when I get the cake.”
Delbert shrugged. “Suit yourself. If you want the cake, go ahead and bid. But if I were you, I’d at least wait till they show the audience what the finished cake looks like. You might not even want it.”
The Lopsided Christmas Cake Page 11