Glazed

by Deany Ray

  “I wish the stupid bullies would just go away.” My mother ate a spoonful of sweet potatoes and closed her eyes to savor the strange taste. Her face turned sad. “I hate for other families to go through the things we did.”

  “I’m afraid that’s just a part of doing business, although it shouldn’t be.” My father took her hand.

  I was suddenly exhausted. The new glimpse of my family history had just added to the weight from a long day of surprises.

  “Well, it’s been a busy day,” I said. “I think I’m turning in. Can I help clear the table?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, that’s okay. You go upstairs and rest.” My mother stood and picked up a bowl. “We’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well and sweet dreams!”

  I got up from the table and I did something I haven’t done in years. I gave my mom and dad a huge bear hug.

  As I made my way upstairs, the sweet potato smells turned into the familiar scent of the dreaded spray. I opened my bedroom door to find that it was strongest in my room. My mom must have suspected it was me who was in some kind of danger.

  An explosion, Eddy’s presence, sweet potatoes mixed with mushrooms, possibly the mafia…

  Maybe she was right.

  Chapter Ten

  Even though it was September, there was a nice, cool breeze as I headed out. It was perfect weather for a barbecue. Today would be interesting. I’d get to meet the family who’d produced Celeste, one of my all-time favorite people.

  Everyone in Springston knew of the Ortiz family; they’d been around for years, but they kept to themselves. You heard a lot of stories, but most of them too crazy to be true. At least I hoped so.

  Still, it was my own family that was on my mind as I opened my car door, moved an old candy wrapper from the driver’s seat, and started up the engine. The conversation from the night before was playing in my mind. It had almost been too much to take in at a time: threats and vandalism and my father as the man, taking care of business. That whole little talk had been some hard tobacco. The worst part was how frightened my mother must have been. Even at the dinner table, I could see it in her face, after all these years.

  Funny how I’d never suspected anything was wrong. As far as I could tell, life had just kept going on the way it always had with grilled cheese sandwiches and chores and Fridays at the pool. There had been the same old cries of ‘Would someone let the dog out?’ (our old golden retriever, Max). My dad has never slowed down with his knock-knock jokes (which back then I thought were funny).

  My mom was home with us so much. It must have been hard to keep the three of us from knowing something bad was up. She never let it show. I’m not like my mother. When I’m worried about something, I stuff my face with cookies. I obsess. I run into things and trip on air more than I usually do. My mom kept her act together. For me and Brad and Sam, life was full of kid stuff and not with grown-up worries. When the tough guys hit up Jack’s, my dad was a badass, but my mother kicked ass too.

  My mind wandered to Alex as I turned down the main drag from our neighborhood. It seemed the guy was way off limits. Too bad that life and work kept sending me tripping and falling and…well, solving the heck out of mysteries right there in his path.

  What would Alex think if he knew I was off to some big party where Eddy and his clan were? Maybe I should force myself not to think about what Alex would think. I didn’t care if Alex thought I had something going on with goofus Eddy (yuck). I longingly looked at the candy wrapper. No. I definitely didn’t care.

  My turn was coming up, and I moved into the right lane while I thought about the case. I hated, hated, hated that I had to do that thing with blowing up a can to get Alex off the scene while Celeste made her escape. Would he be absolutely livid if he knew it was me? Would he also secretly decide that it had been kind of…brilliant? I knew he had a strong suspicion it had been the three of us. I imagined if some cop tried to investigate, Alex would call him off. After all, there was a murderer to catch. Who had time for small explosions, right?

  Houses gave way to more open land as I took the turn that would lead to Lake Glun, where I used to waterski and sunbathe with my friends when I was growing up. The relative of the Ortiz clan who was hosting the barbecue must have a house right by the lake. I had no idea what I should expect for the afternoon. It might be a small group or a crowd of aunts and cousins. Celeste had been very vague, as she always was when it came to her family.

  Whenever I mentioned them, she’d wave the thought away and let go with her throaty laugh. Get those crazy people out of my head right now, she might say before she quickly changed the subject. Now the time had come. I’d see them for myself.

  As Lake Glun came into view, I looked over the address Celeste gave me one more time. This should be it. I looked around. Um, no, I didn’t think so. This was a tiny parking lot without a house or grill or picnic table anywhere in sight. Then I noticed a tall, shellacked tower of bright-red hair sticking out from the top of a small knot of people who were engrossed in a loud conversation. I also heard Marge’s distinctive laugh and knew I had arrived.

  What was up with this? I locked the car and headed over to find out.

  “Oh, and this is Charlie.” Celeste met me halfway and took me by the arm to make the introductions.

  There were about ten people, including several aunts and great-aunts that looked like older versions of Celeste. They all gasped in glee as if it were Adele who’d shown up for the party in an old Toyota with a big dent in the door, singing “Hello.”

  “We’ve heard all about Celeste’s great friend, Charlie Cooper.” One of them kissed me on the cheek.

  Another touched me on the arm. “We’re always saying to her, ‘Celeste! We must meet this Charlie and this Marge! You must let us feed them. Why do you hide your friends away?’”

  Oh, yes, feed me. Please! Breakfast had been a dish my mother nonsensically referred to as Ethel’s Surprise Salad, which amounted to half a banana, some cherries, and three grapes mixed up in a bowl. I did not like this Ethel.

  The small group of family, mostly women, was a sea of movement and of voices. They all talked at once. They talked about someone’s operation on a left hip; and someone’s twins, who were due December but wanted to come early; and some cousins’ falling-out over a no-good man that neither one of them should want to spend time with in the first place.

  “Trouble is all he is,” an older woman said, whose voice somehow rose above the others.

  As far as I could tell, everyone was talking and no one was listening except for me and Marge. She looked a bit confused as she tried to follow several conversations all at once. Half of them were in Spanish, which made it even harder.

  Three children were playing chase, and one small girl almost crashed into my legs. Her mother (or aunt or cousin) pulled the child away and spoke rapidly in her ear (everyone talked fast).

  “Nicky,” she said, “can’t you see this person right in front of you? Stop daydreaming, child, and watch out where you’re going. You’ll be the death of me.”

  Another woman jumped into the conversation. “All you kids stay still now. The boat will be here any minute.”

  Boat? What was up with a boat? Where exactly was the food? Were we going to have the barbecue in a parking lot?

  Celeste noticed my confusion. “We’re all heading out in just a minute to my uncle’s summer home, and by boat is the only way. They’re taking us in shifts, and we’re the final group.”

  I wondered how many shifts there’d been. This must be quite a party.

  “Well, I wish they’d hurry up,” Nicky’s mother/cousin/aunt said. “I’d like to stick my corn in the oven for a little warm-up before we set out the lunch.”

  Once again, the women all chimed in at once.

  “Did I tell you I made that lemon cake you like so much?”

  “I hope it isn’t Pete who’s coming with the boat. He takes it way too fast and shows off on the water, and it leaves my hair a mess.”
>
  “Oh, I do love Arlene’s corn.”

  “I hope Claire didn’t cut the onions up too fine this time.”

  Marge caught my eye and smiled. “Celeste says it’s a big group. Don’t you love to meet new people? The others are all waiting. They’ve been getting ready all day. I think Eddy got there early.”

  My heart sank just a little. I’d known that he’d be there, but I had kind of hoped for a miracle reprieve, some important something he’d forgotten that he had to attend.

  The boat arrived with a young, stocky man smiling and waving at us.

  “All aboard!” he called. “You slowpokes get on in here, and let’s get the party started.”

  Soon we were on our way, and it was absolutely perfect. I loved the breeze, the smell of the lake, and the peacefulness of the blue-green water that seemed to stretch into forever. Peacefulness seemed to be an odd word to pop into my mind, what with the chattering going on around me and the rowdy kids. One of them jostled me and fell into my shoulder as he tried to wrestle with a cousin or a brother.

  Despite all that, the peace seemed to drown out the voices as the clouds slowly moved across the sky, changing shape along the way. The voices were all happy ones, even though I couldn’t make out all the words. Today would be a good day, I decided.

  Someone handed me a beer, and that made it all the better. Although I should take it slowly with the drinking, I supposed. So far that day, I hadn’t put too much in my stomach, just the silly breakfast salad.

  After half an hour or so, the boat began to slow, and I could see a sprawling brick home with two levels of decking that faced out to the lake. Complete with balconies and tall windows, the massive house dominated the small island that we were heading toward. It managed to look both grandiose and inviting, nestled among tall trees and flowering shrubs.

  When I was growing up, my dad used to take my brothers and me boating on Lake Glun every chance he got. He owned a little boat and loved the feel of the open air. I knew all about the islands, but I’d had no idea about this mansion on the lake. This day, the yard was filled with people, and a group of children rushed out to meet the boat.

  As we stepped onto the dock, we were instantly caught up in a flurry of activities. People were moving quickly to and from the house, setting out bowls of food on a row of picnic tables that stretched out toward the water. Other family members had gathered around several grills or were herding children from the water, breaking up friendly scuffles between the youngest members of the clan.

  I linked my elbow through Celeste’s and pulled her a little closer. “No fair keeping this a secret,” I whispered to my friend. “This is absolutely gorgeous.”

  She smiled. “It will do, I guess, but it gets a little loud. It comes with lots of cousins.” She waved to a woman who nodded her hello over an armful of glasses and colored napkins.

  I supposed that we should help.

  “What can we do?” I asked.

  With her hands on her hips, Celeste glanced around the yard. “It looks like the corn needs grilling,” she said. “Are you two up for that?”

  Hmm. I’d been hoping for something simpler. Open up a bag of chips or a pack of paper plates, set chairs around a table…

  “Absolutely,” I said, straightening my glasses on my nose. Grilling ears of corn – how hard could it be? “Marge, let’s head on over.”

  I turned to find my friend gazing open-mouthed at the house in front of her. With my hand gentle on her shoulders, I pushed her toward the grills. “Let’s go grill some corn. You can get a closer look from there.”

  “Oh, yes!” She seemed to snap right out of it. “I just love buttered corn. And did you see all those cakes? I do adore a pound cake, and I think that I saw two.”

  There must have been enough desserts to feed all of Springston, plus the next town over. I’d spotted a caramel cake and a plate of brownies; there were at least three different types of pies and some kind of tart. And was that banana pudding? It would be hard to choose.

  As we walked up to the grill closest to the pile of corn, Eddy was already there and had the first batch cooking. Great. Wearing a stupid apron that said Kiss the Cook, he leered at me as he slowly turned the ears of corn with a pair of tongs.

  “It’s the number-one rule in this family to never, ever disobey the dictates of an apron,” he said.

  I would not let this guy get to me, I decided. I’d have some fun with him. I quickly put my glasses in my pocket.

  “I have to take these off when I work behind a grill,” I said, smiling sweetly at him. “With the smoke and heat and all, I just can’t wear my glasses. So I can’t read a thing! I guess that rule doesn’t count.”

  “That was a good one, Charlie,” Marge approved.

  Sometimes it was not a bad thing to be myopic after all. And I supposed the heat and smoke might indeed be bad for glasses. Who knew? I was not a griller.

  He smiled and winked at me. “You’re a sly one, Charlie Cooper. But I believe we both know that I’m your kind of guy.”

  “I’m afraid you’re really not,” I said. “I like the type of guy who doesn’t need some goofy apron to score a lousy kiss. The kind of guys that I go out with rely on their looks and charm.”

  Which was not exactly true. I was a dateless wonder! But those were the kinds of guys that I would go out with if they’d ever ask. Meanwhile, there was corn that needed grilling. Eddy was only using half the space on the grill in front of us. I had to get to work.

  “How do you like the house?” he asked as he checked his corn for doneness. “There’s a bedroom in the back that I’d love to show you.”

  “Oh, my,” Marge said.

  “I’m sure it’s fabulous,” I said. “But I’d hate to spoil the image of the nice décor by having to see you standing in the room. I’m sure Celeste will be more than happy to give us the grand tour.”

  He turned to me and stared. Guess he didn’t have any good comebacks.

  “What I’d like for you to show me is the extra tongs.” I said to him.

  He kept staring.

  “Eddy!”

  He snapped back and handed me his tongs. “Here, you take these for a while. I need to run up to the house and check on something.” He nodded toward a tray of corn. “Can you get started with this batch?”

  “We’re on it,” Marge answered.

  As he headed to the house, she smiled. “You go, girl. The score is Charlie: one; and Eddy: a big zero.”

  We lined the ears of corn up on the grill. Now that we’d lost the jerk, I was feeling good. The air was filled with the most enticing smells a hungry girl could dream of, and let’s face it – I’d been very hungry ever since the day my mom decided that a good cholesterol level trumped a loaded baked potato. The air around me was a heady mix of burgers, barbecue, and assorted kinds of wonderful.

  Beside me, Marge turned some ears of corn and frowned. “I don’t think this is working,” she said. “I don’t think these are getting cooked.”

  I gently touched an ear of corn. “I don’t think the grill is hot enough,” I said. “What do you think we should do?” I looked around to see if there was anyone to ask, but everyone looked busy.

  Marge glanced around as well, then picked up a bottle of lighter fluid. There was a question in her eye, but I didn’t know the answer. I guessed the answer might be…yes? It was, after all, the stuff that made a grill turn hot. But Marge and I were new at this, and I’d had enough of things exploding. I looked around for Celeste, but she was nowhere to be found in the chattering, colorful sea of Ortizes buzzing all around us.

  I shrugged, which I guess Marge took to mean, Give that thing a good, long pour. She had never been one for moderation.

  To make things even worse, Marge decided to let loose with her massive outpouring just as I leaned over the uncooked corn to check things out a little more. Spotting her moving forward with the downturned bottle, I managed to duck back just seconds before a huge blue flame leapt up
toward the sky.

  “Marge, that was too much!” I yelled as I almost landed on my back.

  “Oh my God, I am so sorry! Are you okay?” Marge asked.

  Funny how she remained completely uninjured.

  Feeling the hot air on my cheeks, I glanced down on the now-black corn. I didn’t dare look up. I knew all eyes must be on us. We’d turned out to be such lousy guests, I thought in despair. This was how we said thanks for such a lovely invitation. What kind of helpless guests were we – who couldn’t even grill some ears of corn without sending the things up in flames?

  A crowd gathered all around us.

  “Is everything okay?” they seemed to yell at once. “Is anybody hurt?”

  I guessed there was no chance they’d all just go about their business and forget this ever happened.

  Marge let out a weak giggle. “The people are just fine. The corn, not so much. Sorry! So, so sorry. It looked like lovely corn.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, don’t you worry.” A heavyset woman gave Marge’s arm a pat. “There’s more where that came from. You’re with the Ortizes! We don’t run short on food.”

  Another woman touched me softly on the back. “Well, I guess you girls worked up an appetite. You gave it your best shot.”

  “Oh Charlie, I’m so sorry,” Marge said. “It was all my fault. Charlie, did you…” She stopped to stare at me, a look of shock plastered on her face.

  Something froze deep inside my chest. Oh, for the love of lemon cookies, what was she staring at?

  “What’s wrong?” I asked her.

  With her eyes still glued on my face, she took a big step back.

  “Tell me! What?” I raised my voice in panic.

  Still, she didn’t answer. She looked like she might cry.

  “What?” I almost begged.