Liz Marvin - Betty Crawford 03 - Too Long at the Fair (14 page)

18. Chapter 17

Achmed and Addie were in the Crawford family kitchen putting the finishing touches on their pies and arguing about how they’d present the recipe at the fair the next day.  Achmed wanted about a half hour presentation with a host of short cuts.  Addie was adamant; she wouldn’t show people the recipe at all.

“This recipe is too hard to do on your own if you don’t know what you’re doing.  You show people this they’ll try it and they’ll poison themselves and die.  I won’t be a party to that.”

“Well we have to show them something!”

“Here.  Close your eyes and taste this.” 

Achmed closed his eyes and let Addie feed him.  The taste was subtle ambrosia.  A mix of berries, like strawberry, blackberry, blueberry with a hint of cherry all rolled into one with an almost invisible highlight of honey and mint.  Rich and subtle were the words that came to mind and then in a flash he knew what he had to do.  He opened his eyes grabbed Addie by the shoulders and kissed her.

“You are a genius but so am I.”

“Modest too” Addie rejoined, grinning like a schoolgirl who’s just been kissed.

“We need strawberries and blackberries and blueberries and we’ll have to get the mixture just right.”

“We’ll have to cook - or partially cook - all the berries separately. They’ll have different cook times.”

“Which will allow us to try different mixes until we match your incredible pie!”

“Do you think you can do it?”

Achmed rubbed his eyes. “No.  But I think we can.”

~

Betty was seated at the family’s dining room table with her parents.  They weren’t eavesdropping but it was hard not to overhear the goings on in the kitchen.  The mood at the table was decidedly more somber.

“Well I guess I should be grateful you’re not hurt or dead.”  Mary sniffed “Yet.”

“I’m sorry mom” was all Betty could say.  It was all she had been saying for the past hour.  There was no sense in arguing, trying to explain or make excuses.  Her mother was scared and hurt and those three words were the only ones that helped.  A little. 

Clarise had gone with Wes back to the fair.  While he was away someone had smashed or stolen half the cameras at the fairgrounds.  The cameras were cheap, wireless and easy to replace but Wes had to go over the video files and look for clues while Bill interviewed fair goers in hopes someone had seen something.

That left Betty alone with her parents who were none too pleased to hear Betty had been shot at for the third time in less than a year. 

“One of these days whoever is out there isn’t going to miss.”

“I’m sorry mom.”

Her dad jumped in. “Betty we know it isn’t your fault.  Your mother and I just worry about you.  We always have and always will.”

“Because we love you.”

“I know I know and I love you too but I am not the only person who got shot at today.”

“We understand.  So how’s your blood sugar?  Have you eaten anything?”

Betty massaged her forehead.  She hadn’t eaten since the ride out to Addie’s farm and that had been nearly twelve hours ago.  She didn’t want to tell them.  Thankfully the doorbell rang.  “I’ll get it!” Betty leaped up, relieved for the interruption.

She glanced at her parents before opening the door. They were both clutching the table, fearful about who or what was waiting on the other side.  Her heart went out to them.  Living in fear was never good. Not for them and not for her.  In the past few years she had lived with the fear of losing her job and never working again, the fear of moving home, broke and in debt, the fear of starting her own business, the fear of falling in love, the fear of a disease that could easily consume and destroy her if she let it and worst of all the fear of being exposed.

Yes, she thought, I’m used to living with fear. Now it’s spreading and I won’t let it take over our lives. I may be afraid but I won’t let it stop me from doing anything.  The doorbell rang again, startling her from her reverie.  Her parents were still clutching the dining room table, more concerned than ever.

Betty steeled herself, smiled and opened the door.  Danbey Johnson was there still dressed in a dark suit even at ten o’clock at night.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.  I saw the lights and - and I was told I could find Miss Beurey here.  I heard she had some troubles.”

“She’s in the kitchen.  Come in.  I’ll get her.  We’re just having coffee would you like a cup?”

Betty led him in, took his hat and coat and was happy to observe he was unarmed.  “This is my mom and dad, Chet and Mary.  Folks, this is Danbey Johnson.”

She left them to get acquainted and ran for the kitchen.  Adeline was stirring two pots, one with each hand while Achmed rinsed cans of pie filling, pouring the warm water over strainers filled with frozen blackberries and strawberries. There were open cans of cherry and blueberry.  Addie tasted the cherry.

“Still too sweet.  What about a squirt of lemon?”  She held out the spoon to Achmed who sampled and made a face.

“We won’t be using honey that’s for sure.  Give the lemon a try.”  He held out a plastic bottle of lemon juice shaped like a lemon. She took it with two fingers and eyed it with distrust.  She opened the bottle and sniffed suspiciously, then tasted, sighed, shook her head and squirted into the cherry mixture, tasted, added some more and then moved on to the blueberries.  She added freshly chopped mint to both pans, tasted, and added a few grains of black pepper.  Achmed stopped and stared, reached over, tasted and nodded his approval.

“Perfect. This will work.”

“The frozen berries will be fine just adding them at the last minute.”

“I’ll puree the cherries and strawberries; you add the blackberries to the blueberry.”

They worked together perfectly and unconsciously.  They didn’t notice her or, really, each other.  Betty leaned against the door jamb and enjoyed the show.  The cherries went into a blender with the strawberries, the blackberries were added and stirred into the blueberries and immediately taken off the heat.

They mixed small amounts together, tasted, argued, mixed again and again until suddenly they both stopped.

“Four cups blueberry and blackberry mix to one and one eighth cup strawberry cherry mix.”

Achmed was scribbling on a notepad.  “And all the ingredients can be bought any grocery store in the country.”

“Except the mint which I found in the back yard.”

“Can’t be helped.  They’ll use dried mint no matter what we do.”

Betty coughed.  “Addie, Mister Johnson is here to see you.  He’s in the dining room.  Could we serve ice cream with topping?”

“You go on, Addie, I’ll help Betty serve.” 

Addie wiped her hands on her dress, brushed her hair back from her face nervously and left the kitchen.

“Any idea what he wants?”

“Not a clue.  I’m just glad he’s unarmed.”

Achmed gave a harsh bark of a laugh and opened the freezer.  He took out regular and sugar free vanilla ice cream.  Betty found the bowls.

“It is sad you feel like you have to check for weapons” Achmed spoke quietly as if he feared being overheard “but I know that feeling. I live with fear. Sometimes real, sometimes just remembered. Sometimes imagined. Doesn’t matter which kind it is I face it when I have to and sometimes it overwhelms me.”

Betty laid a hand on his shoulder.  “Fear is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Achmed looked at her.  “I know but my heart does not.  Did you see Addie today?  Did you watch her?”

Betty smiled and thought about saying not as much as you but resisted the urge.  “I did.  She wasn’t afraid because she had a plan of action and somehow knew just what to do.  When she left the room just now she was plenty scared.”

“Then we should join her.”

“She’ll be fine.  Thanks for thinking of me this morning and now too.”

“I just hope someday you’ll stop being ashamed of your condition.  You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Neither do you.”  Betty couldn’t meet his gaze.  She was still ashamed of having type two diabetes and afraid of how people would judge her if they knew.  

Achmed passed her two bowls, one with a spoon in it, along with a half dozen spoons.  He managed five bowls on his own.  “Yours has the spoon in it.”

Danbey was seated in silence beside Addie.   Both looked uncomfortable and nervous.  Even Betty’s parents were silent.

“Get ready for a taste delight.” Achmed crowed “What should we call it Addie?  How about Lofton pie?”

Addie smiled “I’d like that.”

“What about Beurey pie?”  Danbey asked.

“No” Addie answered “that would be vanity.”

“Miss Beurey I have something to tell you.”

“Shouldn’t we eat first? Before the topping cools and the ice cream melts?”  Betty jumped in.

“No. I’ve waited long enough.”  Danbey reached into his pocket. Achmed froze, five dishes of ice cream balanced on his arms.  Danbey removed the silver framed picture of Adeline the great.

“This is my great great great aunt.  Your great great-grandmother.  I just found out and honestly I didn’t believe it at first but I have spent the day doing research and it’s true.  You and I are family.  In fact you’re the last family I have left.”  Danbey’s voice caught.  He looked as if he would burst into tears but he regained his composure. 

“I know that our two branches had a falling out a long time ago but I want to, I need to reach out across the generations and ask if we might bring the family together again.”

Silence.  Achmed finally found his voice. “Sir are you asking Adeline to marry?”

Danbey looked startled, then amused.  He laughed.  He laughed so hard tears came to his eyes.  His laughter was infectious and soon everyone was laughing.  

Betty served the ice cream.  Eventually Danbey regained control.

“No.  I am not asking a young woman who to be generous is half my age and who I just met to marry me.”  More somberly he added “and my Marlee May is still too fresh in my heart for any such thoughts.”

Addie ladled the fruit topping onto the ice cream, starting with Danbey.  “This is our safe version of the old family recipe.  I hope you like it, cousin.”

Danbey was touched.  “I shall like it very much.”

Addie laughed.  “Taste it first.”

Danbey did as she asked.  He closed his eyes and savored the first bite.  Betty found her mouth was watering.

He opened his eyes and grinned. “Ambrosia.”

The table applauded and Addie continued ladling topping onto the dishes of ice cream.

Achmed coughed and stepped forward, facing Danbey.  “I should tell you my intentions toward your cousin are completely honorable.”

The table dissolved in laughter again and Addie blushed but not nearly as much as Achmed.

By midnight the Lofton Pie had been deemed a success, Addie had learned that her cousin Danbey had also researched the family farm and paid off her mortgage as well as her back taxes.  Achmed survived being teased and took it like a gentleman with good grace and a self-deprecating sense of humor.  Achmed and Addie would spend the night at Danbey’s house.  Addie and Achmed were arguing over who would cook breakfast in the morning.  The dishes were washed and kitchen cleaned up and just as Clarise showed up.