Reading Online Novel

Gunns & Roses(5)



After a moment of consideration Annie answered, “Clean the silver. I really want to see what the engravings look like.” She washed the colander and placed it in the drain board, and then turned around to lean against the counter. “The tarnish is heavy and I’m concerned about damaging the pieces. Any suggestions?”

“I haven’t been with Princessa for as long as I have without picking up some tricks of the trade.” Alice picked up one of the bands to examine the metal again. “This is sterling silver, not silver plate. So I’d suggest using the electrolytic method.”

“Impressive. Have you actually done this before?” Annie asked.

“Believe it or not, I have. More than once, in fact. If we are as precise with the method as you are with your crochet, the tarnish should clean up nicely without causing any harm to the pieces. Even better, I’m almost certain you already have everything we need.”

Annie knew Alice wasn’t one to claim expertise when she didn’t actually have it. “Wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Let’s get started. What do we need?”

“A large pot, aluminum foil, that colander over there, a plastic spoon, a towel, water, baking soda, salt, liquid dish soap, and measuring cups. Oh, and your stove.” Alice ran through the process in her mind once again, making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. “That’s everything.”

Annie pointed over to a lower cabinet. “Grab the stockpot.” She reached up into her baking cabinet and pulled down the baking soda and salt. Once all the needed items were gathered on the counter by the sink, she said, “OK, what’s next?”

Alice explained, “First, we need to line the pot with aluminum foil. And I mean completely cover the sides and bottom with the shiny side facing out.” She handed Annie the roll of foil. “While you do that, I’ll measure out the baking soda, salt, and soap.” After all the hours Alice had spent at her friend’s house she knew the Grey Gables’s kitchen almost as well as Annie did. She plucked the needed measuring cups from the neat stack in the drawer next to the stove. The mound of baking soda had just reached the top of the quarter cup when her head popped up.

“Hey, I remember someone having a kilt!”

“You’re not going to make a joke about Tartan, are you?” Annie finished smoothing the foil around the bottom of the pot and began lining the sides.

Alice barked out a laugh. “No, I’m not talking about our mayor’s dear schnauzer. I mean you.”

“Me?” Annie’s eyes narrowed for a moment as she delved back into her growing up years, and then they widened again. “I can’t believe you remembered that before I did.”

Alice turned the bottle of dish soap upside down over a cup and squeezed. “How could I forget such a fashion statement? Black Watch pattern, I think it was.”

“More likely the J.C. Penney pattern,” Annie said, pressing the edges of the foil strip down over the lip of the pot. “How I loved that skirt! Though I never told anyone, when I outgrew it, and my mother donated it to the missions clothing drive, I cried. I wanted to make some pillows out of it.”

Alice snapped the lid of the soap closed and replaced it by the sink. “I always wondered how hard it must have been for you, being separated from your parents so often when they went on missionary trips. Having some things all your very own would have been really important.”

Annie nodded. “It was important that they were portable things too—I needed things I could tuck into my suitcase when I went to Aunt Susan’s in Texas or here. My desire to make those pillows was definitely sparked by wanting to keep something special with me when I couldn’t keep my parents. I knew they had a good reason for being away, but it didn’t make it easier.” Running her hands around the inside of the pot, she made sure there were no gaps in the foil. “Here you go, one aluminum-plated pot.” She carried it over to the stove.

Alice examined her friend’s handiwork. “Good. Now we make a most delectable soup.” One by one she poured in the water, soap, baking soda, and salt. Selecting a plastic spoon from the large crock on the counter, she stirred the concoction to mix the ingredients thoroughly. “Hand me the bands, Annie.”

Annie gathered the bands and gave them to Alice. She placed them in the pot and moved the pot over one of the burners on the stove, turning it on low. “Now, we wait until it boils for a few moments, and then we’ll switch off the heat and let it sit for about five minutes.”

Annie picked up the sporran off the table and ran a finger over the silver clasp. “How are we going to clean this? We can’t submerge this in your soup, even if seals are marine animals.”