the recipe on the box, she quickly blended the cake mix with eggs, water, and oil. She poured the mixture into the Bundt pan and put it into the hot oven. She set a timer and went ahead and cleaned up the dishes that she’d need again in a little while.
After the cake had baked to a golden color and cooled enough to be removed from the pan, Phyllis repeated the process.
Since she still had the kitchen to herself, she went ahead and whipped up a double batch of buttercream icing. She was a little surprised at how much food coloring it took to finally make the icing a perfect pumpkin orange. Keeping in mind that this was just a practice cake, Phyllis didn’t worry too much about getting the face exactly right. She used a green ice-cream cone for the stem, as in the magazine, but she wasn’t really satisfied with the way it looked. An upsidedown cupcake might work better for the carnival cake, she thought. That way she could make the icing on it look more like a stem.
Phyllis put the cake in the cabinet, away from prying eyes.
Later, after Carolyn and Eve were both out of the house, she took the cake from the cabinet where she had hidden it. Sam was upstairs in his room watching a movie on his DVD player, but he was willing to stop it to come down and see what Phyllis wanted.
“There it is,” she told him as she waved a hand at her creation sitting on the kitchen counter. “What do you think?”
“Looks like a jack-o’-lantern, all right. Pretty scary, eh, kids?”
Phyllis had a feeling he was making some reference to movies or TV, but she didn’t get it. “Is that all you have to say?”
“Well, I haven’t tasted it yet, so looks are all I’ve got to go by,” he pointed out. “But I’m sure it’s good. Everything you bake is.” He paused. “You gonna cut it?”
“I might as well. It was just for practice, after all.” She picked up a knife. “You want a big piece, I suppose?” She knew he had quite a sweet tooth.
“Yeah. Maybe not a piece with an eye on it, though. That’d be a mite creepy.”
After Sam had eaten his slice of cake and proclaimed it delicious, Phyllis wrapped up the rest of it and drove over to the north side of town to share it with her grandson, Bobby, after calling first to make sure her daughter-in-law, Sarah, was going to be home. When she got there, Bobby toddled down the walk to meet her, followed closely by his pretty blond mother. Phyllis scooped the boy up into her arms and kissed his cheek as Bobby hugged her tightly around the neck with his chubby arms. “G’anma!” he said happily.
Phyllis didn’t particularly like being called Grandma , but she would put up with it from this little boy.
“Bring me anyt’ing?” he asked.
“Bobby,” Sarah scolded mildly. “Is that any way to say hello to your grandmother?”
“It’s all right,” Phyllis said. “As a matter of fact, I did bring you something, Bobby. I brought some jack-o’-lantern cake.”
“Cake!” he said clapping his small, chubby hands together.
Sarah had started to frown a little, so Phyllis told her, “Don’t worry, we’ll just give him a small piece.” She handed Bobby to Sarah and turned back to the car to get the covered plate she had used to carry the cake.
“That certainly looks good,” Sarah commented as the three of them went into the neatly kept brick house. The place didn’t have the personality that the big two-story frame house where Mike had grown up did, but unless you wanted to buy an old house, you couldn’t get anything except these brick cookie-cutters anymore. And people had a right to live where and how they wanted to, Phyllis reminded herself, although as a parent it was sometimes difficult for her not to speak up and offer an opinion. Anyway, Mike and Sarah and Bobby all seemed very happy.
Sarah got out saucers and a knife to cut the cake, then hesitated. “Do I try him with the fork?” she asked. “Or should I just let him use his fingers?”
Bobby
After the cake had baked to a golden color and cooled enough to be removed from the pan, Phyllis repeated the process.
Since she still had the kitchen to herself, she went ahead and whipped up a double batch of buttercream icing. She was a little surprised at how much food coloring it took to finally make the icing a perfect pumpkin orange. Keeping in mind that this was just a practice cake, Phyllis didn’t worry too much about getting the face exactly right. She used a green ice-cream cone for the stem, as in the magazine, but she wasn’t really satisfied with the way it looked. An upsidedown cupcake might work better for the carnival cake, she thought. That way she could make the icing on it look more like a stem.
Phyllis put the cake in the cabinet, away from prying eyes.
Later, after Carolyn and Eve were both out of the house, she took the cake from the cabinet where she had hidden it. Sam was upstairs in his room watching a movie on his DVD player, but he was willing to stop it to come down and see what Phyllis wanted.
“There it is,” she told him as she waved a hand at her creation sitting on the kitchen counter. “What do you think?”
“Looks like a jack-o’-lantern, all right. Pretty scary, eh, kids?”
Phyllis had a feeling he was making some reference to movies or TV, but she didn’t get it. “Is that all you have to say?”
“Well, I haven’t tasted it yet, so looks are all I’ve got to go by,” he pointed out. “But I’m sure it’s good. Everything you bake is.” He paused. “You gonna cut it?”
“I might as well. It was just for practice, after all.” She picked up a knife. “You want a big piece, I suppose?” She knew he had quite a sweet tooth.
“Yeah. Maybe not a piece with an eye on it, though. That’d be a mite creepy.”
After Sam had eaten his slice of cake and proclaimed it delicious, Phyllis wrapped up the rest of it and drove over to the north side of town to share it with her grandson, Bobby, after calling first to make sure her daughter-in-law, Sarah, was going to be home. When she got there, Bobby toddled down the walk to meet her, followed closely by his pretty blond mother. Phyllis scooped the boy up into her arms and kissed his cheek as Bobby hugged her tightly around the neck with his chubby arms. “G’anma!” he said happily.
Phyllis didn’t particularly like being called Grandma , but she would put up with it from this little boy.
“Bring me anyt’ing?” he asked.
“Bobby,” Sarah scolded mildly. “Is that any way to say hello to your grandmother?”
“It’s all right,” Phyllis said. “As a matter of fact, I did bring you something, Bobby. I brought some jack-o’-lantern cake.”
“Cake!” he said clapping his small, chubby hands together.
Sarah had started to frown a little, so Phyllis told her, “Don’t worry, we’ll just give him a small piece.” She handed Bobby to Sarah and turned back to the car to get the covered plate she had used to carry the cake.
“That certainly looks good,” Sarah commented as the three of them went into the neatly kept brick house. The place didn’t have the personality that the big two-story frame house where Mike had grown up did, but unless you wanted to buy an old house, you couldn’t get anything except these brick cookie-cutters anymore. And people had a right to live where and how they wanted to, Phyllis reminded herself, although as a parent it was sometimes difficult for her not to speak up and offer an opinion. Anyway, Mike and Sarah and Bobby all seemed very happy.
Sarah got out saucers and a knife to cut the cake, then hesitated. “Do I try him with the fork?” she asked. “Or should I just let him use his fingers?”
Bobby
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