Chapter 6: The Kitchen Window

Dinner was grilled whitefish on the porch, and Marlene sat down next to me.

She had changed into a linen blouse and brought a folder, which she set beside her plate and did not mention.

"How's the back room, sweetheart?"

"Fine."

"Is Jackie a good sleeper?"

Across the table, Jack was passing corn to a cousin and not listening.

"Dead to the world," I said.

"Good." She patted my hand. "You'd tell me if he gave you trouble."

"I'd tell my father."

Her smile didn't move.

"Of course," she said. "Of course you would."

The folder stayed closed all through dinner.

Judy talked about the cake.

It was a three-tier lemon cake with cherry filling.

She had a quarrel going with the baker about the frosting that she described in detail for twenty minutes.

"Tomorrow is the tasting," she announced. "Everyone is coming but two people. The tent company is delivering at two, and somebody needs to guard it."

"I'll stay," said Jack.

"I'll stay too," I said, a little too quickly.

"Wonderful," said Judy. "You two can get to know each other."

Marlene put down her fork.

"Wouldn't you rather come to the tasting, Kate?"

"I hate cake," I said, which was a lie, and my father made a wounded noise.

After dinner I took the dish towel and a stack of plates to the kitchen.

Judy shooed me out onto the porch swing.

"You drove six hours yesterday. Sit."

I sat.

The swing creaked in the dusk, and moths knocked at the porch light, and I could hear the dishwasher running.

The kitchen window over the sink looked straight out at the porch.