Or maybe it was just too late for her. She didn’t start her cake-making hobby until I was about ten. Karma had been looking out for me until then. I used to be quite grateful that she hadn’t inflicted birthday cakes on me in my delicate early years. Who knew the horrors I might have known? God knows Greenwood had enough to deal with.
As it was, I learned early that if you said the cake was delicious when it wasn’t, it only meant having to follow through and eat it. Honesty was definitely the best policy with Mum. Just last winter she’d attempted a sponge cake with cream and strawberries. I’d walked into the kitchen just as she was placing a piece in front of Kevin.
‘This looks good,’ he said, sliding the plate toward himself and acting as though he’d never experienced previous food atrocities. We made eye contact as he scooped up a big mouthful of strawberries and cream.
‘You want a piece, Sunny?’ Mum said, knife poised.
I studied Kevin’s face as he chewed, hoping for all our sakes that this cake would be the one, and the sponge would dissolve in his mouth leaving a delicate, sweet aftertaste. But judging from his expression this was not the case.
‘Maybe later,’ I said. ‘I’m not that hungry.’
‘Go on, Sunny,’ Kevin said, licking cream off his lip. ‘Have a piece. Your mother has slaved over this.’
Mum raised her eyebrows at me. ‘Just a little one?’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘It looks good.’
Kevin winked at me and smiled as Mum cut me a slice. I rolled my eyes at him.
‘It’s supposed to be like eating a little piece of cloud,’ she said, passing me the plate.
‘It is, Lily.’ Kevin scooped in another forkful.
‘Oh, come on,’ Mum said. ‘You’re just flattering me.’
She was right about that.
I picked up the fork. ‘Sunny, you’ll be straight with me, won’t you?’ she said.
It was the last cake of hers I’d tasted and I wish I hadn’t been straight. I wish I’d said it was great.
Mervie startled me with a sharp bark. He nosed open the door and trotted out to the back porch. I peered out though the window. A moment later, Leanne’s small blue sedan pulled up behind the house.
‘Already?’ I said, closing the recipe book and getting up. As quickly as my delicate head would allow, I went to my room and changed out of my PJs into some denim shorts and a T-shirt. By the time I walked back to the kitchen Leanne was already behind the screen holding a dish in her arms.
‘Hello, Sunny, is it okay if I come in?’
‘Yeah,’ I said, nodding my head. ‘Yeah, sorry. I was just changing.’
I pulled the door open. She looked a lot fresher than when I had seen her the day before. Her light-brown hair was down and freshly washed into shiny noodles, and she wore a neatly ironed cotton dress covered in blue flowers.
‘That bruise looks sore,’ she said, examining my eye.
I leant toward the kitchen window to see my reflection. ‘Yeah.’ I touched the tender skin on the side of my head. ‘I think I’ll live though.’
‘How’s the headache?’ she said, unable to tear her eyes away from the messy kitchen – looking, but trying not to look, like how people do at the scene of a car crash.
‘Yeah, it’s fine.’
Leanne’s eyes travelled to the sink. The trip to the hospital meant that Kevin had let things slip. Day-old dishes were piled high, the floor was sticky and now the table was strewn with cookbooks. I felt my face burn as we both tried to ignore the disgusting state of the room. She stood still for a second. ‘Oh.’ She looked down at the dish in her arms. ‘This is for you. I told Kevin I’d drop it off.’
‘Yeah, he said you were coming over.’
‘He’s gone already?’ She seemed disappointed as she passed me the still-warm dish. A whiff of something garlicky escaped from underneath the aluminium foil. ‘Lasagne,’ she said, straightening her mouth.
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Great.’
‘I can cook more than just fish and chips and burgers, you know.’ She smiled.
‘Thanks.’ I nodded, placing the dish on the table near my teacup and dirty plate. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ I asked, but I didn’t want her to stay. I really didn’t.
Leanne looked at the cup. A fly crawled along the edge, then stopped and rubbed its forelegs together in anticipation of a sticky banquet of milk and sugar. Join us! the fly seemed to be saying.
‘Um.’ She shook her head. ‘No, it’s fine, love. I just wanted to drop this off for you and Kevin. And make sure you’re alright.’ A quick smile crinkled her pale blue eyes into slits. Pink lipstick had smudged onto one of her front teeth. I’d never seen her wear lippy before. She looked kind of pretty.
‘So, you’re alone then?’ she peered down the hallway as if I were hiding a secret extended family member in one of the bedrooms or something.
‘Yeah.’
‘Oh, well … I can stay for a while, if you like? Help you clean up.’
I shook my head a little too vigorously and felt my brain bounce against my skull. ‘No, I’m fine. You don’t have to.’
Leanne looked sceptical. ‘It won’t take long. I can just wash up a bit …’
She started to head toward the sink.
‘No!’ It came out too loudly. ‘I can clean up. It’s fine.’
Leanne stopped and turned to me, blinking a few times. ‘Oh, alright then. I’ll pop back and get the dish in a couple of days.’ She moved past me in a warm breeze of perfume and opened the door.
‘I’m fine, really.’ I smiled reassuringly.
Leanne had one last look around the kitchen. I knew she didn’t believe me. For one thing, she was itching to get her hands on those dirty dishes; I knew what a clean freak she was at the shop. And for another, how could I be
