Hushed Up--Myrtle Clover Mystery #15

Chapter Seven

"Well, that was very nice," said Myrtle.

Miles merely gave a relieved sigh.

"He really is such a nice young man. I'm glad I finally had the chance to have him over for a meal. I should do this every time."

Miles closed his eyes briefly. "Can I help you clean up?" he asked.

Myrtle looked around the kitchen and made a face. "I've half a mind to drag Puddin back over here and have her do it. It's amazing how a couple of simple recipes can make for so much mess. Puddin definitely owes me one. That silly Bitsy called and Puddin didn't even have the chance to do any cleaning at all."

Miles looked at the clock. "I'd say your chances of getting Puddin over here at this time of the morning are slim to none."

"It's not even that early anymore! But I know what you mean. Puddin is so slovenly, she probably is still buried under the covers." Myrtle looked at the clock, herself. "I think we should head over to Martin's house with the casserole. I'll just have the dishes sit in some dish soap for a while. That should make clean-up easier for either me or Puddin."

Miles said, "Are you sure Martin wants to be faced with a casserole at this point of the morning?"

"Faced with it? What a peculiar turn of phrase, Miles. And, yes, I think he would want it early so he could even have it for lunch if he wanted. Or he could have it for lunch and supper."

"Weren't you going to divide it up so we could give some to Lillian's daughter, as well? It made an awful lot?"

Indeed, the casserole completely filled a large dish. It was also quite dense, somehow, and heavy.

"Yes, I think it should be divided up. I think we'd have a hard time even trying to hold the thing in one container. That way, we can see Annie right after we see Martin." Myrtle studied the casserole. "I'm going to need you to help me transfer the thing over. It looks like it might be unmanageable." She glared at the casserole as if it were being purposefully obstructive.

"Do you have a couple of containers that will work?" asked Miles. "It's kind of a rectangular shape."

Myrtle pulled open a cabinet and frowned as she surveyed the different plastic options. "This one is sort of a rectangle."

"It's a square," said Miles.

"It couldn't be. It's shorter on these sides."

Miles said, "It's exactly the same on all sides."

Myrtle sniffed. "If you really were an engineer, it seems as if you should know your shapes a bit better."

Miles said tightly, "May I have a look in your cabinet?"

The cabinet was a riot of orphaned lids and containers. Some of them appeared to be from old butter containers, others from hummus. Most of them didn't seem to be appropriate for transporting casseroles to the bereaved.

"I have some containers at home," said Miles. "I'll be right back."

He returned a few minutes later with a couple of rectangular plastic containers. "These should do the job," he said.

They struggled a bit with the transferal process. The casserole was decidedly uncooperative. Both of them wielded spatulas and finally just wrestled the mixture into place.

Miles stared down glumly at the two containers when they'd finished. "It doesn't look very good."

"But I'm about to cover them with the cream-of-something soup," said Myrtle. "You won't be able to tell how broken up the casserole is once I smooth the soup over it."