J Stanley - The Battered Body

Having borrowed the Diva’s latest cookbook from the library, James had ambitious plans to bake a stunning cake to serve his loved ones that evening. Despite these lofty intentions, he found himself standing in the middle in the baking aisle at Food Lion staring dumbly at the ingredient list for the Diva’s Perfect Praline Pecan Bundt Cake.

“You look lost,” a young woman’s voice teased. Willow pulled her cart alongside James’s and peered at the open cookbook. “She made that one for the TV show in December, remember? It’s really a delicious cake.”

“It sounds like a perfect wintertime cake,” James replied with a sigh. “Too perfect. I’m not an experienced cook by any means, and I’m feeling daunted by these instructions.”

Willow began scanning the shelves. She grabbed a box of cake mix and put it in his cart. “This situation calls for a shortcut. That cake mix is almost as good as the made-from-scratch batter, but it takes half the time and only three ingredients. Just concentrate on the icing and the candied pralines. Since you’re making those two by hand, no one will suspect that every ounce of your cake isn’t homemade.”

Relieved, James scanned the directions for the frosting and pecans and decided they didn’t seem so challenging. “Thanks, Willow. You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem. I’m going to be using a few shortcuts too since I’m in charge of the wedding cake for Wednesday night’s party.” She looked pleased to have been asked. “I told Lindy that I plan to make cupcakes instead of a multi-tiered cake. Since we don’t have an army of waiters, cupcakes are better for a buffet. Your parents will get a miniature cake, of course, but I thought they might prefer a pair of white doves instead of the traditional bride and groom toppers.”

James laughed. “I suppose there aren’t too many toppers of gray-haired couples. Thanks for being so thoughtful, Willow, and for taking care of all the sweets.” James placed a bag of pecans in his cart.

“And don’t worry that I might be offending Megan Flowers by baking the wedding cake. The Sweet Tooth is supplying rolls for the dinner and a tray of wedding-bell cookies. It was really important to me to make Milla’s cake. She’s been so good to me, so different from Paulette.”

A thought occurred to James. “I wonder how I’m going to get those goat’s milk products out of the house and packaged up before Wednesday. They’re in Pop’s shed and he never lets anybody in there when he’s not around.”

“Your friend Lindy’s got that covered. She’s going to visit your father this afternoon as a representative of her mother’s art gallery and is planning to find a way to squirrel the party favors out.”

James grinned at Willow. “‘Squirrel them out,’ huh? I do believe you’re turning Southern on us, my dear.” His smiled evaporated. “Poor Lindy. She might not get the warmest reception. Pop’s been in a bit of a painting drought lately.”

“That happens to all creative types. Something or someone will get him back on track. Besides, two people who were supposed to be at his wedding are dead now,” she pointed out. “That’s got to have affected your father. Throwing him a surprise party ought to cheer him right up.”

“You’re only saying that because you don’t know Pop. He’s going to hate being the center of attention,” James replied. Then he thought, But to catch a killer, it’s worth a little discomfort on his part.

Quickly adding the rest of the cake ingredients to his cart, James also stocked up on toilet paper, paper towels, garbage bags, and cleaning supplies for his house. He nearly passed out when the total appeared in neon green digits on the cash register. Digging his credit card from his wallet, he sang wryly under his breath, “Hi ho, hi ho, into debt I go.”

It was impossible to remain cross while filling the refrigerator and pantry in his newly painted kitchen. The room was too warm and welcoming to accommodate grumpiness. Switching on the radio, James sang along to a series of upbeat oldies, and he prepared the box of butter pecan cake mix. He was thrilled to be able to use the steel bowls, rubber spatula, measuring cups, and hand mixer Milla had bought him, and when he slid the bundt pan into the oven, he decided to make it a point to become an accomplished cook.

“After all, I’ll be feeding my son on a regular basis,” he informed the oven proudly. Musing over what foods were preferred by a typical four-year-old, James found himself heading down the hall to examine Eliot’s room for the third time that afternoon.

The supper club members had painted until well after dark the day before, and when Lindy finally exited Eliot’s room, she had looked tired but immensely pleased.

“It’s got to dry overnight,” she had warned James before she would let him enter. “And you should tell the carpet guys to be really careful on Monday. After that, try to keep in mind that this is a boy’s room and every inch of it is gonna get dirty at some point.”

“Stop stalling, woman!” Bennett had grabbed her by the arm. “Show us your masterpiece.”

James, Gillian, Bennett, and Lucy had filed into Eliot’s room. Glancing around, they had exclaimed in delight and congratulated Lindy on a job well done. Their artistic friend had gone all out in order to create a room that any monkey-lover would appreciate. First, she had divided the wall in half, so that the upper walls became a cobalt blue sky and the lower half was a tropical forest floor. Trees, exotic plants, and flowers bloomed everywhere and several monkeys resembling Curious George swung from jungle vines. Butterflies, dragonflies, hummingbirds, and macaws also populated the forest canopy. On the wall where James planned to place Eliot’s bed, Lindy had painted George flying through the air as he clung to a bunch of balloons. The monkey wore his trademark grin of mischief and the shiny, plump balloons looked so realistic that James believed that if he stuck a pin into one it might actually pop.

“Girl, you’ve got mad skills,” Bennett had praised Lindy.

Lucy had nodded in agreement and then, a trifle sourly, asked, “What happens when he gets tired of Curious George?”

“Then his Aunt Lindy will paint him something else,” Lindy had quickly responded, smiling at James. “I haven’t had this much fun in ages. Thank you for letting me do this.”

Now, standing in the charming room, James felt as though there were too many hours between now and three o’clock, but in truth, he didn’t have that much time to finish his cake and assemble the kitchen table he’d hastily purchased from the local furniture store. The store owner attended the same church as the Henrys, and when James explained how desperately he needed his table and an extra two chairs delivered that very afternoon, the man promised to drive the items over himself.

The tile-top table and six ladder-back chairs arrived by two. And though James only had to screw the legs to the table base, he also had to bake the candied pecans, which would serve as the cake garnish, mix the frosting, and move the bouquet of yellow carnations he had sitting in the sink to a glass vase.

By the time the cake was cool, the kitchen table was set up and the flowers arranged. James was quite pleased with himself when he overturned the Bundt pan and the golden cake dropped effortlessly onto a cranberry-colored cake plate. James spooned the frosting over the top and sides, enjoying how it slowly dripped down the lines and crevices in the cake. Frowning at the puddle of icing pooling in the middle, he realized he’d probably poured on too much at once.

“Ah well. I’m not exactly the Diva of Dough,” he remarked to his creation, and then he meticulously placed the candied pralines in a ring around the top of the cake. He ate half a dozen during this exercise, wondering how Paulette had stayed so slim working with such tempting ingredients. “It’s a good thing library books aren’t edible,” he said, laughing at his weakness for sweets.