Lizz Lund - Mina Kitchen 01 - Kitchen Addiction! (32 page)

“But
if he did, I bet Vito would foster them until Ethel could get a divorce,”
Bauser added brightly.

I
slumped down in the backseat.  My conversations with my friends were getting
stranger and stranger.

We
drove into the Mansion District that once housed turn-of-the-century
manufacturing moguls.  We crossed Wilson, passing the ‘dream house’ I spied
when I first moved to Lancaster.

“Still
think they’ll adopt you?” Bauser asked, meaning the family who owned my
favorite mansion.

“No,”
I sighed.  “Looks like they already have kids.”

“Maybe
they need an old kid,” Norman offered helpfully.  “You know, to babysit and
serve canapés at bedtime or something?”

I
shrugged.  It was just a silly game we played a lot.

We
crept onto Marietta, then Good Drive, and finally onto Aunt Muriel’s street. 
We drove up the driveway and parked in the side lot she had paved for guests,
next to a dark grey mini-van.  The garage door was open, so we walked in
through the unlocked back door, across the mud room and into the kitchen.

“Hello,
Goils,” I called out as I motioned Bauser and Norman and Jim in through the
kitchen.  “Hey, Aunt Muriel, I brought some company with me…”

I
trailed off as I entered the living room and saw Ma butt naked under a sheet
with someone who was definitely tall, blonde and handsome standing over her. 
And thirty years younger.

“AGGGGGGHHHHHH!”
I screamed.

Bauser
and Norman rushed in behind me to see the affronting vision.  “AGHHHH!” they
agreed.

“AGHH!”
Ma yelled back.

Tall,
blonde and bemused just stood there shaking his head and smiling.

“What
the?” I asked.

Ma
sighed.  “Well, so much for the soothing effects of massage,” she muttered.

“Huh?”
I said.

“Muriel’s
treating us to a mini spa day. James is a massage therapist.”

“Oh,
uh, sorry,” I said, walking backward and onto Jim’s hind foot.  He gave a
little yelp and fell backward.  “Sorry, Jim,” I said, stumbling over him, as
Norman and Bauser followed my lead and we backed up into the kitchen.

“Oh
for Pete’s sake, he was done anyway,” Ma said.

James
said politely, “Just lie there please, Mrs. Kitchen. You need some privacy to
drape yourself.”

“Oh
please,” we heard Ma puff as she got off the table and walked into the kitchen
with the sheet wrapped around her, toga style.

“Remember
to drink a lot of water, Mrs. Kitchen, to wash away the toxins,” James called
out after her.

“Toxins,
right, okay,” Ma said, and pulled a Brita water pitcher out of the fridge and a
bottle of Grey Goose from the pantry.

“So
where’re Aunt Muriel and Mrs. Phang?” I asked.

“We’re
in here, dear,” Aunt Muriel called.

I
left Ma with Bauser and Norman.  I went into the living room, where James was
folding up his table, and nodded a sheepish ‘hi’ to him.  He gave me a big
smile back that I wasn’t sure wasn’t altogether not laughing at me.  I
proceeded into Aunt Muriel’s bedroom and found Aunt Muriel and Mrs. Phang in
their trousers and bras with plastic grocery bags over their heads.

They
each slipped short sleeve pastel silk pullovers over their grocery bag heads,
and carefully removed the bags from their faces.  They looked at themselves in
the mirror.

“You’re
right!” beamed Mrs. Phang.  “Your hair stays perfectly in place this way!”

“Hello,
dear, how are you?” Aunt Muriel asked.

“Uh,
okey dokey.  Just thought we’d stop by to say hi…” I trailed off.  I figured
I shouldn’t tell them that the real reason we stopped by was to let Ethel tell
Ike she had a bun in the oven that was almost half baked.  “So, uh, Ethel said
you ladies are having a girls’ day?” I tried brightly.

“Oh,
yes!” Aunt Muriel beamed.  “Your mother and Tina and I just had the most
wonderful massage.  James is a miracle!”

“Wow. 
That’s great.”

“Now
your mom and Muriel get to go to Paws ‘n’ Claws,” Tina – Mrs. Phang – added
with a sigh.  “I have to go home.  My dopey sister-in-law text messaged me
about 50 times this morning.”

“Paws
‘n’ Claws?”  I asked.  Did the girls want to adopt some pets, too?

Aunt
Muriel nodded. “Oh yes, it’s supposed to be the best salon in Lancaster,” she
said.  “And I can’t wait to get these bangs fixed!” She emphasized by tucking
her singed hair back up under her headband.  “Luckily Tina’s been there; she
recommends it!”

“Yes,”
Tina/Mrs. Phang nodded.  “The service is great.  The name – not so much.”

“I’ve
even heard of them. They got a write up in the Ledger,” Ma said, coming into
the bedroom and carrying a glass filled with ice and a clear beverage that I
hoped was mostly Brita water.  She wandered into Aunt Muriel’s ballroom size
master bath, and we heard water running in the whirlpool bathtub.  Clearly, Ma
was taking the spa day verbatim and making ready for a good relaxing soak. “The
Ledger said that for special customers, they even give you a Mai Tai!” she
called out happily from the tub.

“Really?”
I asked Mrs. Phang.

“Sure.”
Mrs. Phang shrugged.  “You just have to tell them you’re Korean.”

“Mina,
dear, are you all taking a late lunch?  Can I get you something?” Aunt Muriel
asked.

“No
thanks; Norman bought us lunch at PizzaNow!” I said.

“That’s
nice of you to stop by then,” Aunt Muriel said, slipping on a pair of pink
sandals that matched her knit top.

I
flopped down in confession mode on top of Auntie’s bed.  “I got fired,” I
sniffed.  “Twice!”

“We
know, dear.  Your sister called us,” Aunt Muriel said.

I
rolled my eyes.  I’m the only person I know whose life gets scooped by others.

“You
didn’t like that job, anyway,” Ma called out from the whirlpool.

“I
know,” I sniffed.  “But I’m not going to like looking for a job a lot less. 
And I didn’t dislike my paycheck.”

Ma
splashed around some.  “I keep telling you, if your only problem is money, you
don’t have any problems.”

“No,
my other problem is not paying my mortgage and losing my house,” I said.

“Phhhffff,”
Ma raspberried back.  “That’s not going to happen.  Do you think me or Muriel
would let that happen?” she said.

“No,”
I answered, and started to cry.

“There,
there,” Aunt Muriel said. She handed me a few hundred tissues.  I sat up and
blew my nose a few dozen times.

“I
feel like such a failure.”

Ma
came out of the tub re-draped in a large pink towel.  “You’re not a failure;
they are,” she declared. I sighed and nodded my head.  I knew better than to
contradict Ma when she went Greek on me.

Mrs.
Phang patted my shoulder.  “You’re a smart gal.  You’ll find something.  You
just have to start networking.”

I
sighed in agreement.

Ma
sat down next to me and wiped my face with a corner of her terrycloth toga. 
“First you need to rest.  You haven’t had a good night’s sleep this whole
week.  Or more, judging by the look of you.  No wonder you’re weepy.”

“I’m
just feeling a little anxious, I guess,” I said.

Mrs.
Phang and Aunt Muriel and Ma all agreed and reassured me how normal that was,
that I would find another job that I liked soon, that I was better off this way
and all the other nice lies you tell someone unemployed you feel sorry for and
worry about.  But it made me feel a little happier, all the same.

“But
don’t Bauser and Norman have to get back, dear?” Aunt Muriel asked.

“Nope,”
I said, and told them about Bauser getting canned too, and about Norman’s quitting his job, and his newly divulged extremely great financial situation.

“What’s
his last name?” Ma hissed intently.

“Mudd,”
I said.

Ma
smacked her hand to her forehead.  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.  I read about his
father years ago,” she said, nodding.  “So, you see?  The worst thing that
could possibly happen is that you have friends and family to owe,” she said. 
“If you must.”

Mrs.
Phang stood in front of Aunt Muriel’s mirror and put on turquoise and gold
dangly earrings that matched her silk top.  She turned to Auntie.  “Thanks
lots, Muriel.  It’s been a long time since I had a girls’ night out,” she said,
and hugged Aunt Muriel. “Or a spa day!”

“My
pleasure,” Aunt Muriel hugged back.

“Bye,
Louise,” Mrs. Phang said to Ma.  “It sure was fun meeting you.  And, Mina, you
just take it easy.  Something will turn up soon.”

Aunt
Muriel walked Mrs. Phang out of the bedroom, and to the back door.  The sounds
of them laughing with James drifted up to us.  Then Aunt Muriel called out,
“Byee!” and we heard the back door close.  Then we heard Aunt Muriel talking
with Bauser and Norman.

Ma
patted me on the head.  “Don’t worry about the job search this week.  Save that
for Monday.  You need a little R&R,” she said.  I sighed.  She was right. 
And my new buddy system wasn’t doing a whole lot to relax me.  It was getting
on my nerves.  But I didn’t want to tell Ma about it, and worry her, especially
after she just got her back kneaded and whirlpooled and all.

Ma
got dressed and fixed her hair.  “C’mon, let’s go see what the boys are up to
with Muriel,” she said, and led me out and into the kitchen.

We
came in to see Aunt Muriel and Norman and Bauser sipping long, tall glasses of
Brita water, nodding and talking quietly.  Jim lapped at his own Brita water
from a large crystal salad bowl on the floor.

“Mina,
dear, I hope you don’t mind, but I already have your mother and I on the wait
list for Grazings,” Aunt Muriel said.  “I thought we should go tonight;
weekends are just impossible.”

I
shrugged.  “No biggie.”

“Hey,
I’ve heard about that place,” Norman said.  “Isn’t that the tiny BYOB place
that only serves you standing at the bar? And you can only get a seat if the
cook likes you?”

Aunt
Muriel took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  “Grazings is a very upscale restaurant
run by the famous Chef Bernard, who trained at the Sorbonne,” she explained. 
“And they rated a New York Times review,” she added.  “They do not do
reservations.  They have a call list.  If Chef Bernard deems it appropriate, he
offers you a seat at the bar.  But only if you’ve brought a wine that he
approves of.” Aunt Muriel sighed.  “It’s almost like being in an uptown
restaurant.”

“Well,
I don’t think we should leave Mina alone the first night that she’s fired,” Ma
said.

Aunt
Muriel looked at me doubtfully.  “Would you like to go with us, Mina?  It
really doesn’t matter that I left a request for two on the call list; they’re
certain to ignore it.”

I
shook my head.  “Thanks, but I’m not really in the mood for having my wine
rejected.”

“Well,
I’m not leaving you alone,” Ma said.

Aunt
Muriel furrowed.  Clearly she had been looking forward to being stood up at
Grazings.

“It’s
okay, Mrs. Kitchen.  Jim and I will hang out with Mina,” Bauser said.

Ma
relaxed a little.  “Are you sure?” she asked me.

I
looked thankfully at Bauser.  “I think I’m up for a quiet night at home. 
Besides, we had a huge lunch,” I said.

“Yeah,
we did,” Bauser agreed.  “We should probably just grab something light like a
Calzone or lasagna or something.”

Aunt
Muriel glanced at the clock.  “Oh! C’mon, Louise!  The time!”  Ma looked up at
the clock and gulped and dashed for her purse.  “Sorry, kids; we’re going to
miss our mani-pedi if we don’t hurry!” Aunt Muriel called from the hall above
the jingle of her car keys.

I
shook my head.  There are few things in this world that put Ma and Mu into
first gear than the possibility of being late for a nail appointment.

We
collected Jim and hurried out and smooshed back into Bauser’s car, and pulled
out of Auntie’s driveway.  Muriel backed out right after us, pointed her car
into position and all we heard or saw were squealing tires and dust.  Bauser
stomped on his accelerator, the Aspire spluttered, and we all leaned forward to
help it down the hill and out of Auntie’s development.

Back
at my side of town, Bauser parked behind Ike and Ethel’s car.  We got out and
stood around the front yard.  I was wondering if Ethel had broken the news to
Ike or not yet.  Norman slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked to his
Echo parked at the curb.  He pulled on the handle and burnt his hand.  He
carefully opened the car door with his baseball cap and started the ignition
and rolled all the windows down, and walked back to us.

“I
better go home and break the news to the girls,” he said.

“How
do you think they’ll take it?” I asked.

Norman
shrugged.  “They’ll probably
want to get even with me by enrolling in their favorite equestrian camp in Montreal,” he said.  “And my wife will probably want to recover from the shock with a trip
to Provence.”