After, I heat cream on the stove top, not too hot. I pour the warm cream over some semi-sweet chocolate and slowly stir. I put it aside and wait for it to cool.
Yum!
My stomach rumbles and I pat it.
Soon, my pretty.
I go back into my room to change for work. I decide on a linen pants and blouse combo. Add some heeled sandals and voila!
I scan my bathroom counter for my small bounty of makeup. I don’t really wear a lot of makeup. On the rare occasion I go out with the girls, I’ll apply it a bit darker. I never wear lipstick, only clear or lightly colored gloss. I like the natural color of my lips.
Looking at my limited selection, I decide on mascara and pale pink lip gloss.
A glance at my watch tells me I can start icing the cupcakes so I make my way over to the kitchen counter.
There is something about icing cakes that is almost therapeutic. Using a piping bag, I carefully ice all 12 of them in a swirly snail pattern.
I’m so hungry at this point I take the wrapper off one of the cakes and shove the whole thing in my mouth.
Chewing loudly, I hear the doorbell ring.
What on earth?
I’m still chewing when I answer the door. There stand two men in blue overalls.
Oh, Crudsickles! I forgot about the moving truck!
One of the men speaks, “Good morning, ma’am. I believe you’re expecting a truck of furniture.”
I nod but am still chewing. I hold up my hand with my index finger pointed up. The universal signal for one minute, please.
When I’m finally able to speak I smile big at them both, “Yes! I’m so sorry.” Checking my watch I say, “I actually forgot and have to be at work soon.”
The other man looks at my mouth, clears his throat and speaks up, “I’m sorry ma’am but someone needs to be here for us to unload.”
Darn it!
My brain goes Ping!
I get an idea. I walk past the movers to the apartment next door and knock quietly.
The door opens and I’m greeted with a large smile, “My, oh, my, is that you Tina?”
Smiling back at her, I say, “Hi Molly! I need a really huge favor.”
Molly looks down at my mouth. Her lips twitch as she tells me, “Girl, you got chocolate all up in yo’ teeth!”
My eyes widen, I can feel the warm blush rise on my cheeks.
Molly is a really cool neighbor. She is in her fifties, African American and small but full of fire. Every time I see her I’m mesmerized by her outfits. They’re always traditional African garments and wraps with fantastic patterns and are usually beaded. Her husband died ten years ago and they never had children so she decided to downsize by selling her house and buying an apartment instead. When I met Molly, I felt like I had won the neighbor lottery.#p#分页标题#e#
Molly was wary of me at first. Until I invited to her eat dinner with me one night and she tried my cupcakes. It’s safe to say that Molly and I are good friends now.
Embarrassment seeps through my pores. I squeak, “Can I use your mirror?”
She places a hand on her hip and taps her toes. She asks, “You holdin’ out on me, baby girl?”
Um, what?
I whisper, “Um, what?” My face must show my confusion because she keeps talking.
She sternly asks, “You eatin’ those cupcakes behind my back?”
Oh!
I feel a bubble of laughter rise in throat. I chuckle and say, “If you do me this favor, I’ll save you a couple.”
She smiles and responds, “Deal. You know where the mirror is, sugar.”
I quickly fix myself then explain to Molly about the movers. Luckily, she didn’t have plans for the morning. Molly has one of my spare keys; she normally feeds and watches Bear for me when I’m out of town hunting new suppliers for Safira.
I pack six of the cupcakes into a container, give Molly a big hug and make my way to my car.
I love my car. It’s a convertible.
A 1975 VW Yellow Super Beetle. The girls call it my Dung Beetle.
It’s slightly rusted and the leather top has holes in it so when it rains I have to cover it with a tarp.
It has character. It’s my baby.
I approach the driver’s side door and jiggle the handle. I depress the button.
Nothing happens.
I jiggle harder. Try the button again.
Still nothing.
I jiggle hard and knee the door. I hear it. Click.
Bingo!
I open the door, sit down and place my cupcakes on the passenger side floor. I feel a headache coming on.
Mental note: take some aspirin.
I put the key in the ignition and turn. Nothing happens.
My forehead falls forward between my hands onto the steering wheel with a thump.
Le Sigh.
***
So many emails.
I need to hire a secretary or assistant to help me out. The White Rabbit has gotten so popular; people want to hire it during the week for birthdays and special occasions. And I’m all for that.