to Oliver. The dog stopped running in circles, snatched the sandwich off the plate, and ate it. And Oliver went back to howling.
“Oliver has to eat at the table,” Amanda said.
“There’s a lot of stuff to remember in this house,” Lula said.
“I want to talk to Dotty,” Soder said.
“Dotty isn’t here,” I yelled over Oliver’s screaming. “Talk to me.”
“In your dreams,” Soder said. “And for crissake, somebody get this kid to shut up.”
“The dog ate his sandwich,” Lula said. “And it’s all your fault on account of you distracted us.”
“So do your Aunt Jemima thing and make him another sandwich,” Soder said. Lula’s eyes bugged out of her head. “Aunt Jemima? Excuse me? Did you say Aunt Jemima?” She leaned forward so her nose was inches from Soder’s, hands on hips, one hand still holding tight to the fry pan. “Listen to me, you punk-ass loser, you don’t want to call me no Aunt Jemima or I’m gonna
I saw Lula’s point, but being working-class white I had a totally different perspective on Aunt Jemima. Aunt Jemima conjured nothing but good memories of steaming pancakes dripping with syrup. I loved Aunt Jemima.
“Knock, knock,” Jeanne Ellen said at the open door. “Can anyone come to this party?”
Jeanne Ellen was back to being dressed in the black leather outfit.
“Wow,” Amanda said, “are you Catwoman?”
“Michelle Pfeiffer was Catwoman,” Jeanne Ellen said. She looked down at Oliver. He was on his back again, kicking and screaming. “Stop,” Jeanne Ellen said to Oliver. Oliver blinked twice and stuck his thumb in his mouth.
Jeanne Ellen smiled at me. “Baby-sitting?”
“Yep.”
“Nice.”
“Your client is being intrusive,” I said.
“My apologies,” Jeanne Ellen said. “We’re leaving now.”
Amanda, Oliver, Lula, and I all stood like statues until the front door closed behind Jeanne Ellen and Soder. Then Oliver went back to his screaming.
Lula tried the stop thing but Oliver only screamed louder. So we made him another grilled cheese.
Oliver was finishing his sandwich when Dotty returned.
“How’d it go?” Dotty asked.
Amanda looked at her mother. Then she took a long look at Lula and me. “Fine,”
Amanda said. “I’m going to watch television now.”
“Steven Soder stopped by,” I said.
Dotty’s face went ashen. “He was here? Soder came here?”
“He said he wanted to talk to you.”
Color flamed on her cheekbones. She put a hand to Oliver. A mother’s protective gesture. She smoothed the baby-fine hair back from Oliver’s forehead. “I hope Oliver wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Oliver was terrific,” I said. “It took us a while to figure out he wanted a grilled cheese sandwich, but after that he was terrific.”
“Sometimes being a single mom gets a little overwhelming,” Dotty said. “The responsibility of it. And the
