Laurie Cass - Bookmobile Cat 02 - Tailing a Tabby by Laurie Cass Page B
Authors: Laurie Cass
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head. “Is it going to be that bad?”
She sipped her coffee. “You be the judge. But you know the rules.”
“No making fun of the food and always compliment the cook.”
She smiled. “A credit to the family, that’s what you are.”
I glanced at the front door. “So, how are things going in there? Apart from the breakfast, I mean.”
Her smile fell away. “Horrible. Simply horrible.”
It disturbed me to see my normally cheerful aunt look so morose. “I’ll be the judge of that,” I said, and opened the wooden screen door for her. We passed through the spacious living room, oak floorboards creaking, past the end tables and coffee tables built from driftwood, past the maps thumbtacked to the walls and the fieldstone fireplace, and entered the dining room.
I exchanged morning greetings with five of the six boarders, and within five minutes, I understood what my aunt had meant. The young, funny, intelligent, beautiful Deena was pouring coffee for the middle-aged and balding Quincy. She added sugar and a little cream,stirred it, then handed it to him and watched anxiously until he sipped it and nodded. Her resulting smile was bright and happy and I didn’t dare look at Aunt Frances.
My favorite boarder of the summer, Zofia, stood at the window, smiling at the view of the bird- and tree-filled backyard. Zofia had a tendency to wear flowing skirts and dangling earrings, clothing to match her Gypsy-sounding name. She hadn’t been able to wear that type of thing when her husband was ladder-climbing for a major car manufacturer, but after his death she’d spread her wings.
The white-haired Leo was sitting at the table with Paulette at his side. Paulette, tawny-haired and comfortably plump, had been matched with Quincy, but she’d shown no interest in him whatsoever once the dapper Leo appeared on the scene.
My aunt’s plan had been to match Zofia with Leo, but Zofia seemed to be comfortable with her single status and hadn’t shown a hint of interest in the man.
Unless something changed fast, this was going to be Aunt Frances’s first matchmaking failure ever. Well, not a complete failure, because four of the six boarders would be matched up, even if not according to plan, but that would leave two of them alone, and that would just about kill Aunt Frances.
“Breakfast!” Harris called. “Morning, Minnie. Could you ring the bell?”
“Sure.” I went out to the screened porch that lay adjacent to the dining room, and pulled on the rope that went from the porch to the top end of a bell. Years ago, the bell had been taken from an old train engine andinstalled in the branches of a maple tree for this very purpose. The bell dinged once, twice, and three times, summoning one and all to the breakfast table. Everyone was there already, but ringing the bell was a tradition that dared not be broken.
We sat down to toast, orange juice, and a breakfast casserole made of… well, I wasn’t quite sure what. Eggs, certainly. Bacon? Green peppers? And was that… it couldn’t be pineapple, could it? A few silent minutes went by while eight people chewed, seven of whom were searching for something complimentary to say. Harris, who had recently graduated from college, and who had been matched with Deena, didn’t seem to care about his romantic loss. What he seemed most concerned about was our reaction to the food.
“Harris, dear,” Zofia said, “the coffee is outstanding this morning.”
“Absolutely.” Leo held up his mug. “Never better, young man.”
Aunt Frances cleared her throat. “It takes ingenuity to create your own recipe, young man. You’ve shown great courage.”
“You bet,” Deena said quickly. “I would never have dreamed of making up something. Not ever.”
“Interesting combinations,” I said. “I’ll have to tell Kristen.”
“Just think,” Paulette added, “maybe Kristen will name a new entrée after you.”
Quincy said, “And they’re still filming that cooking show up
She sipped her coffee. “You be the judge. But you know the rules.”
“No making fun of the food and always compliment the cook.”
She smiled. “A credit to the family, that’s what you are.”
I glanced at the front door. “So, how are things going in there? Apart from the breakfast, I mean.”
Her smile fell away. “Horrible. Simply horrible.”
It disturbed me to see my normally cheerful aunt look so morose. “I’ll be the judge of that,” I said, and opened the wooden screen door for her. We passed through the spacious living room, oak floorboards creaking, past the end tables and coffee tables built from driftwood, past the maps thumbtacked to the walls and the fieldstone fireplace, and entered the dining room.
I exchanged morning greetings with five of the six boarders, and within five minutes, I understood what my aunt had meant. The young, funny, intelligent, beautiful Deena was pouring coffee for the middle-aged and balding Quincy. She added sugar and a little cream,stirred it, then handed it to him and watched anxiously until he sipped it and nodded. Her resulting smile was bright and happy and I didn’t dare look at Aunt Frances.
My favorite boarder of the summer, Zofia, stood at the window, smiling at the view of the bird- and tree-filled backyard. Zofia had a tendency to wear flowing skirts and dangling earrings, clothing to match her Gypsy-sounding name. She hadn’t been able to wear that type of thing when her husband was ladder-climbing for a major car manufacturer, but after his death she’d spread her wings.
The white-haired Leo was sitting at the table with Paulette at his side. Paulette, tawny-haired and comfortably plump, had been matched with Quincy, but she’d shown no interest in him whatsoever once the dapper Leo appeared on the scene.
My aunt’s plan had been to match Zofia with Leo, but Zofia seemed to be comfortable with her single status and hadn’t shown a hint of interest in the man.
Unless something changed fast, this was going to be Aunt Frances’s first matchmaking failure ever. Well, not a complete failure, because four of the six boarders would be matched up, even if not according to plan, but that would leave two of them alone, and that would just about kill Aunt Frances.
“Breakfast!” Harris called. “Morning, Minnie. Could you ring the bell?”
“Sure.” I went out to the screened porch that lay adjacent to the dining room, and pulled on the rope that went from the porch to the top end of a bell. Years ago, the bell had been taken from an old train engine andinstalled in the branches of a maple tree for this very purpose. The bell dinged once, twice, and three times, summoning one and all to the breakfast table. Everyone was there already, but ringing the bell was a tradition that dared not be broken.
We sat down to toast, orange juice, and a breakfast casserole made of… well, I wasn’t quite sure what. Eggs, certainly. Bacon? Green peppers? And was that… it couldn’t be pineapple, could it? A few silent minutes went by while eight people chewed, seven of whom were searching for something complimentary to say. Harris, who had recently graduated from college, and who had been matched with Deena, didn’t seem to care about his romantic loss. What he seemed most concerned about was our reaction to the food.
“Harris, dear,” Zofia said, “the coffee is outstanding this morning.”
“Absolutely.” Leo held up his mug. “Never better, young man.”
Aunt Frances cleared her throat. “It takes ingenuity to create your own recipe, young man. You’ve shown great courage.”
“You bet,” Deena said quickly. “I would never have dreamed of making up something. Not ever.”
“Interesting combinations,” I said. “I’ll have to tell Kristen.”
“Just think,” Paulette added, “maybe Kristen will name a new entrée after you.”
Quincy said, “And they’re still filming that cooking show up
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