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Bella brings two blank notebooks to school the next day. Her old one is safely computerized and boxed up with its predecessors.
At lunch, she sits with Angela; Jessica and Eric and Lauren sit at the same table but mostly talk to each other, and Mike is nowhere to be seen.
Bella is just about on time to gym, thanks to an overnight icing that means she has to pick her way with extreme care across the slippery grass or the slick sidewalks. The second time she falls down, she gives up on attempting any dignity at all, and, cradling her thwacked elbow, scoots the rest of the way to the gym on her rear. This leaves her with damp jeans but no further injuries, and they were a little damp anyway from the falls.
She doesn't have time to do more than smile and wave at Alice on her way to get her mat and get out of the way of careening balls. She spends the class doing the subset of her safe activities that won't stress her elbow.
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self_composed
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Bella twirls once at the top of the stairs, thwacks her arm into the doorframe, and half-chokes-half-laughs as she displays and then pockets a square. "Kitchen it is!"
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Alice giggles. In fact, when they reach the kitchen, he is still giggling.
"Goddess of cake!" he says, sticking his head in. "Hi can we cook stuff?"
"Hi!" says the aforementioned goddess, turning around to cast an amused glance over both of them. "I don't know, can you?"
Unlike the lady of the house, Hilary does not wear gowns for casual occasions. She is wearing a dress, but it's a cheerful blue gingham thing that makes her look like she belongs in a household product ad from the 1950s. The pink nail polish, ruffly white apron, and subtle but exquisitely applied makeup only bolster this impression.
"Goddess of cake!" he says, sticking his head in. "Hi can we cook stuff?"
"Hi!" says the aforementioned goddess, turning around to cast an amused glance over both of them. "I don't know, can you?"
Unlike the lady of the house, Hilary does not wear gowns for casual occasions. She is wearing a dress, but it's a cheerful blue gingham thing that makes her look like she belongs in a household product ad from the 1950s. The pink nail polish, ruffly white apron, and subtle but exquisitely applied makeup only bolster this impression.
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"Hi, Hilary! It's good to finally meet you. I can cook, but not as well as you. May I raid your recipe file?" Bella asks brightly.
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"Sure. Bella, right?" Hilary beckons them both in with a sweep of her arm. "Charlie's favourite daughter. Doesn't like snails. Fond of my cake. Want to help me make one? No snails, I promise."
Alice leans against the counter and listens to all this with a big, big grin. He likes Hilary.
Alice leans against the counter and listens to all this with a big, big grin. He likes Hilary.
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"Has he got more daughters I'm handily defeating without even knowing it?" Bella asks archly. "I would love to participate in snail-free cake."
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"If he does," says Hilary, "he's keeping quiet about 'em. Laney, make yourself useful and get the book, there's a dear. I don't really keep a recipe file," she explains to Bella. "I have books, and then I... innovate. Feel free to take notes."
"Cake book?" asks Alice. "Or the other cake book?"
"Well, that depends," says Hilary. "How adventurous are we feeling today?"
"Cake book?" asks Alice. "Or the other cake book?"
"Well, that depends," says Hilary. "How adventurous are we feeling today?"
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Bella produces her brand new blank notebook and pen. "I'm feeling very adventurous today," she says earnestly.
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"So one of these cake books comes to us from the sunken ruins of a ghost ship in the Bermuda Triangle, is that it?" Bella inquires. "And the other was obtained at the library fundraiser for fifty cents?"
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"Well, one of these cake books is called Piece of Cake," says Hilary, "and the other one... is that one."
Alice closes a cupboard, turns around, and holds up a small, glossy recipe book. The cover is a high-quality photograph of a black forest cake topped with whipped cream coloured to resemble flames, on a red background, under the title Devilish Desserts.
Alice closes a cupboard, turns around, and holds up a small, glossy recipe book. The cover is a high-quality photograph of a black forest cake topped with whipped cream coloured to resemble flames, on a red background, under the title Devilish Desserts.
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"Oooh," sighs Bella. "I probably don't even have the equipment to make some of those at home, let alone the skill."
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"You probably don't," Hilary agrees. "Laney, any preferences? Why am I asking you, you never want things. Bella!" She makes a gesture that causes Alice to hand Bella the recipe book. "Pick something that looks tasty and/or frightening."
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"Ooh." Bella take the book and flips through. "Oooh-ooh-ooh. Are we ingredient-limited at all?" She stops at a page with a towering layer cake, cut open to reveal stripes of crumb and frosting under a thick coating of white rosettes. "Maple Caramel Coconut Butter Cake," Bella reads. "Wow."
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"The sky's the limit," says Hilary. "We're freshly stocked."
Alice peers over Bella's shoulder at the picture. "I like that one," he announces.
Alice peers over Bella's shoulder at the picture. "I like that one," he announces.
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Bella laughs aloud. "This thing has three kinds of frosting in it! Let's do it!"
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"Excellent," says Hilary, clapping her hands. "Battle stations! Laney, put the book up."
Alice obligingly attaches the book to a convenient contraption on the door of the fridge and adjusts the clamps until all parts of the recipe are visible and the book isn't going to fall out anytime soon.
"Bella," Hilary continues in the meantime, "would you be so kind as to get me a large and a small mixing bowl out of that cupboard?" She points.
Alice obligingly attaches the book to a convenient contraption on the door of the fridge and adjusts the clamps until all parts of the recipe are visible and the book isn't going to fall out anytime soon.
"Bella," Hilary continues in the meantime, "would you be so kind as to get me a large and a small mixing bowl out of that cupboard?" She points.
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Bella fetches mixing bowls as instructed. She bumps her head on the cupboard and does her best to be discreet in pocketing her new square.
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"Careful there," says Hilary. (Alice snickers.) "Thank you, just set them down over there." She drifts over to the fridge and starts calling out ingredients to be assembled, carefully specifying where each one might be found. Alice hops to it.
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"Sorry, I'm just really terribly clumsy," Bella says. "I don't know if that's one of the things my dad mentioned." She helps find ingredients too, humming to herself quietly.
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"She has to sit out of gym in case she breaks something," Alice volunteers.
...And glances over at Bella, thoughtfully.
...And glances over at Bella, thoughtfully.
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"I might try getting back in when we switch from volleyball to badminton!" Bella says brightly. "Badminton's probably pretty safe!"
Not for her, but she can probably convince Ms. Finch if she immediately fixes any bruises and scratches she collects.
Not for her, but she can probably convince Ms. Finch if she immediately fixes any bruises and scratches she collects.
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"Knock yourself out," says a grinning Alice.
"Less casual sadism, more butter," says Hilary, handing him a block of butter and a knife.
"Less casual sadism, more butter," says Hilary, handing him a block of butter and a knife.