The Cakes of Wrath (5 page)

I thought she knew Miss Frankie well enough to answer that herself, but I didn't waste time saying so. Miss Frankie had been bound to find out about what happened last night. I just hoped she hadn't been sitting up there and fretting over me this whole time.

I climbed the stairs quickly, groaning softly as my sore muscles screamed in protest. It wasn't until I heard the phone ring and Edie answering questions about that afternoon's supply drive that I realized I'd also completely forgotten to warn her about Destiny. But maybe that was for the best. She was bound to react badly to the news, and right now I had to focus on showing Miss Frankie that I wasn't at death's door. I'd have plenty of time to warn Edie later.

I made it all the way to the second-floor landing before I was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps and equally heavy breathing on the stairs behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and found Estelle Jergens laboring to catch up with me. Her ample chest heaved and her face matched the color of her curly red hair. Estelle is the oldest member of the Zydeco staff. I don't know her actual age, but I put her somewhere around fifty, though I could be off by a few years in either direction.

“Hold on a minute, Rita,” she wheezed. “I need to talk to you.”

I didn't want to keep Miss Frankie waiting much longer, but I felt bad about turning Estelle away when chasing me had clearly required such an effort. “Okay,” I said, “but I only have a minute. I'm late for a meeting with Miss Frankie.”

Estelle climbed the last three stairs and paused to catch her breath. “Oh.”
Huff-puff.
“Sorry.”
Puff
. “I . . .”
Huff.
“. . .
didn't realize you were busy.”
Huff-puff.
“I can wait until after. It shouldn't take long.” She finally managed a deep breath and wiped a trickle of perspiration from her cheek. “It's about Edie.”

We've all been walking on eggshells since learning that Edie's doctor had warned her that her pregnancy was high-risk and I didn't want to ignore a potential problem, especially since the crew at Zydeco was Edie's only support system. I knew Miss Frankie would understand the delay. “What is it?”

Estelle looked over the banister at Edie's desk and tugged me away from the landing. “We need to talk about Edie's baby shower,” she said in a near-whisper.

I laughed, relieved that we weren't facing some actual
emergency. “What baby shower?”

Estelle looked confused for a moment, then chuckled and slapped my arm lightly. “For a minute there, I thought you were serious! We are going to give Edie a shower, aren't we?”

I was a little embarrassed that the idea of a baby shower hadn't even crossed my mind. In my defense, Edie was only five months along, which seemed early to be talking about a shower. But since Estelle had brought it up . . . “Sure. Go right ahead. I'm sure she'd appreciate it.”

“Me?” Estelle rocked back on her heels. “No. I didn't mean me. I'm not . . .” She waved a hand to encompass her gray sweatpants, stained red shirt, and the bright green kerchief covering her hair. “I didn't mean me. I'm not good at that kind of thing. All of my artistic ability goes into decorating cakes. I thought you would want to plan it. You know. Considering how close you and Edie are.”

Close? That was a stretch. Like I said, Edie and I had become friendlier in the past year but I wouldn't have ever said we were “close.” “It's fine with me if you do it,” I said. “Maybe you could get Isabeau and Sparkle to help you.”

Estelle's mouth fell open. “Sparkle? Queen of the Dark?” She snorted a laugh and shook her head. “She's a sweet girl under all that goth makeup and all, but I shudder to think what kind of baby shower we'd have if she helped plan it. And I can't ask Isabeau. You know how bad she feels about the whole baby thing.”

I did not, in fact, have a clue what Estelle was talking about, but for the sake of keeping the conversation brief, I pretended I did. “Oh. Yeah. I wasn't thinking.”

Estelle gave me a maternal pat on the shoulder. “So you see, you're the one who should do it. I'm just here to offer my help if you need it.”

I never talk about it, but I have baby issues of my own. I have no children. I've never been pregnant. Never came close, not even before Philippe and I separated. Philippe and I agreed to wait to start a family so we could focus on our careers. But after a while, the waiting had become less voluntary and more obligatory. I'd gone through a time of grieving every month for a couple of years and then eventually made peace with myself.

So while I don't dislike babies, baby showers just aren't my thing. I'm not into playing games and raving over diapers, burp rags, and other assorted baby paraphernalia. Apparently, Isabeau felt the same way.

“You're so clever,” Estelle chirped, her ability to breathe now fully restored. “I can't wait to see what you come up with.”

That made two of us.

“It's just that I haven't heard a peep about the plans, and you really shouldn't put it off much longer. You know Edie's not even close to being ready for the baby. She doesn't have a crib or receiving blankets. All she has is a couple of sleepers. We don't want the baby to get here before we can fill out the layette at the party.”

Right. Estelle gave me a quick hug and a pat on the cheek. “I'm so glad that's settled. You'll let me know if you need any help at all?” And then she turned and hurried down the stairs without waiting for a response.

Considering how often Miss Frankie volunteered me for projects without consulting me, you'd think I'd be used to it by now, but I was feeling a bit shell-shocked as I continued down the hall toward the conference room. “No,” I muttered under my breath. “No!” It was such an easy word. Why couldn't I say it when I needed to?

I found Miss Frankie (aka Frances Mae Renier) sitting at the conference table sipping a cup of coffee and looking through the contents of a black leather folder. I'd been married to her son, but I'd kept my own surname. Most people think it was a professional choice, but it was actually homage to my parents, whom I'd lost when I was twelve. I didn't want to lose their name, too.

I'd been expecting to find Miss Frankie pacing, but she looked cool as a cucumber in a pale green pantsuit and low-heeled sandals. Her auburn hair had been teased and sprayed to within an inch of its life, and her nails and lipstick were the same shade of dark plum.

She beamed when I walked through the door, but her smile faded abruptly when she saw the bruises on my face. “Lord have mercy,” she said as she stood to hug me. “Edie told me what happened, but I had no idea it was this bad. Are you feeling all right?”

I'd managed not to groan when she wrapped her arms around me, but I couldn't stifle the sigh of relief when she let me go again. “I'm fine,” I assured her. “Just a little stiff and sore.” I motioned her back into her seat, poured a cup of coffee, and joined her at the table. “So what did you want to see me about?”

Miss Frankie laced her fingers together. “I need your help, Rita. My cousin Pearl Lee has gotten herself into a mess.”

“Oh?” I might have met Pearl Lee at Philippe's funeral, but if so, I couldn't remember her. I was almost afraid to ask, “What kind of mess?”

“It's a man,” Miss Frankie said with a solemn shake of the head. “With Pearl Lee, it's always a man. At her age, too.”

“What age would that be?”

Miss Frankie gave me a stern look. When it comes to age, she has a firm “don't ask, don't tell” policy. “She's a bit younger than me. Not that her age matters. I wish I knew what she was thinking. Or maybe I don't. Some things are better left alone, don't you think?”

I said that I did and Miss Frankie fell silent, no doubt pondering the question anyway. I used the time to wonder what Pearl Lee's man troubles had to do with me.

“Anyway,” Miss Frankie went on with a sigh. “I told her she could come and stay with me. She certainly can't stay in Pensacola after what happened. But Rita, I just can't have her sitting in my house all day long. She'll drive me crazy in two days flat.”

My eyes narrowed. “You're not asking if she can stay with me, are you? Because the answer is no.” There! I got it out, and I thought I'd sounded firm saying it.

Miss Frankie looked startled. “Good heavens, no! I wouldn't do that to you, sugar. Pearl Lee can be a real handful, bless her heart, but she's family so she's my handful. What I need is for you to give her a job.”

I almost dropped my cup. “A job? Here?”

Miss Frankie nodded. “She's always been bad with money, but she's finally run through her share of Pawpaw's estate and she's in a fix. She'll tell you she invested it, but the truth is she spent it all on designer clothes and the wrong sort of man. We all agree that it's time she learned to appreciate how to maintain a healthy bank balance.”

I wondered who was involved in making this decision, but I didn't dare ask. The less I knew, the better. “But I—”

Miss Frankie cut me off. “Now, sugar, don't you worry. You just put Pearl Lee to work doing any old thing. I'll pay her salary. But don't tell her it's coming from me. It has to look as if the money is coming from Zydeco.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because all her life, Pearl Lee's had things handed to her. She lived off Pawpaw and Meemaw until the day they died. It's not her fault, really. Uncle Skeeter spoiled her rotten, and Aunt Bitty just let him do it. But now everyone agrees that she needs to learn how to make a contribution to society. And don't look at me like we're being mean to her. We're actually doing her a favor.”

I thought about old dogs and new tricks, but I didn't express my doubts aloud. I just wondered if Pearl Lee would see their interference as a favor. “And you want me to teach her how to make this contribution?” I shook my head. Firmly. “Not a chance.”

Miss Frankie flapped a hand at me. “You don't have to teach her anything. Just put her to work. I've already made it clear that if she wants my help, she'll have to help with the household expenses, and that she'll have to go to work to do that.”

I kept on shaking my head. “No.”

“Just give her something to do. Anything. Keep her busy eight hours a day. You'll hardly even notice she's here. Now . . . she's arriving from Florida tomorrow night. I'll bring her by on Thursday morning.”

“You're not listening,” I said. “It's a bad idea. I'm not doing it.”

“Oh, but you have to. It's all decided.”

“You can't decide something like this without talking to me first,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. I softened it and said, “It's not that I don't want to help, but I've already got too much on my plate. I don't have time to make up busywork for somebody who doesn't even know their way around a kitchen.”

“There are plenty of jobs around here that don't require special training.”

“True, but we have two very complicated cakes on the schedule this week and I'm going to be out a lot. The neighborhood cleanup is this weekend, and Edie and I are in charge of collecting water, food, and tools for the volunteers, which is going to eat up most of today, and Estelle just this second nominated me to plan Edie's baby shower. If you want to teach Pearl Lee a lesson, you'll have to do it yourself.”

Miss Frankie arched her eyebrows. “Really, Rita. I don't understand why you're being so hardheaded about this. But I'm willing to offer a compromise I think we can both live with. You take Pearl Lee off my hands for a few hours every day, and I'll handle the baby shower for you.”

I had a “no” all ready for her, but when I heard the last part of her offer, I swallowed my automatic response and gave some more thought to my options. Keeping spoiled cousin Pearl Lee busy might not be fun, but it might be less awful than spending hours and hours planning a baby shower.

“You'll take the whole shebang?” I clarified, to make sure we were on the same page. “I won't have to do anything?”

A pleased smile curved Miss Frankie's lips. She could see victory on the horizon. “I'll take over the entire affair.”

“It doesn't need to be lavish,” I cautioned. “Just something small, but nice.”

“Of course. A few friends. Some family—”

“Yeah. Only without the family part. Edie's parents haven't spoken to her since she told them about the baby. Even if she was okay with inviting them, I don't think they'd come to her shower.”

Miss Frankie looked shocked. “But she's their child. And this is their grandbaby!”

“I know. It's a touchy subject. Edie doesn't talk about it much, and she tries to act like their reactions don't bother her, but I know their disapproval hurts.”

So far, Edie had refused to name the baby's father, and her mother was livid. She was determined to see Edie married and respectably settled. Edie was determined to remain single and raise the baby on her own. Their disagreement had created such a huge rift in her family that everyone had been forced to take sides out of self-preservation. Unfortunately, the side they'd chosen left Edie with only her Zydeco family to see her through.

I couldn't imagine a relationship like that. Aunt Yolanda was from the “work it out” school of family relationships. If any of my cousins or I had stopped speaking for any extended period of time, she would have locked us in a room together until we'd talked it through.

“Surely there's other family,” Miss Frankie said.