Pancakes & Pandemonium - Culinary Competition Mystery #6

Chapter 17

(Amy)

Amy sighed at the low-battery warning on her Kindle. It had been her refuge every evening, escaping into a book to forget about the lack of electricity while also tuning out the many complaints of boredom coming from her mother. The e-reader had excellent battery life, and it had been fully charged the night before the storm hit, but its energy reserves were as drained as hers—and probably everybody else in Kellerton. The Kindle could be revived the following morning when the sun came up to power the solar charger. It would take a continuing monumental effort to get the city back up and running.

She checked the time before shutting down the device. It was almost eight o'clock, and her mother wasn't home. Had Teresa and Kim decided not to deal with giving her a ride if she'd ditched them to be with Joe again?

A shower of sparks swirled in the fireplace when Alex threw on another log. It was the time of day when he had to start getting a nice bed of coals accumulated to keep them warm throughout the night. The click of the kitchen door being opened and shut caught Amy's attention as he used a poker to move the fresh log farther back on the bed of glowing embers. Her mother silently slipped through the shadows on the edge of the living room and headed for the bathroom. She was so quiet that even Pogo—the ever-vigilant watchdog—was still asleep, burrowed under the quilt on the mattress that had become a mainstay in the middle of the living room floor.

After a few minutes, her mother returned to the living room. She sat down in the easy chair at the edge of the light cast from the fireplace and covered herself up with one of the many blankets Amy had collected from the rest of the house. The quietness was unusual for her mother. And a little scary. Alex blankly looked at her and then at Amy. He was probably wondering where she'd come from.

"I made some biscuits on the grill. There are some left if you're hungry," Amy said. "I have peanut butter, jam, or honey to put on them."

"I'm not hungry...just bored. There isn't much to do in this town."

Amy stared at Pogo, who was now awake and quietly vibrating with displeasure at her mother's reappearance. She had never seen him hold a grudge for so long against anybody. Even if he initially didn't trust someone, he usually warmed up to them after a few minutes. Not with her mother. It had been almost a week, and he still acted as though she was Doggy Enemy #1. Did his canine instincts clue him in on something? Did he know something they didn't?

"As far as I know, the electricity is still out everywhere and practically every building in town was damaged by the storm. I'm not sure what you'd expect to happen in a town in this condition." Amy sighed. "I'm sure there are people who need help cleaning up their yards. Strangers are helping strangers everywhere. If you're tired of spending time with Teresa or Joe, I'm sure we can find somewhere else where you can volunteer."

"Why would I work for free to help people I don't care about? I don't live here, and I don't ever want to live in this town."

"Then why did you come here?"

The question left Amy's lips and dropped like a big rock in a deep lake. Bloop. She had finally lobbed the question she'd wanted to ask for days. If it had been summertime, a chorus of crickets would've been appropriate background noise for the ensuing silence.

Her mother squirmed under the blanket then finally said, "Because I have nowhere else to go. I lost my house. The bank foreclosed on it a few months ago. I was staying with my boyfriend...until we broke up. So here I am."

Amy had figured there was some reason that her mother had decided to visit. It just wasn't that. She'd lost her house? "Why didn't you tell us about that before now?"

"What difference would it make? Now you know, and nothing has changed. I'm still here in this dump of a town."

She heard Alex gasp as she continued to stare at her mom, who seemed to be shape-shifting, courtesy of the light from the undulating fireplace flames. "Why didn't you ask us for help?" he asked. "We could've lent you some money."

"That wouldn't have helped. I'm sort of tired of all the snakes and bugs in Florida anyway."

"So where are you going to live now, if you don't like Florida and don't like it here either?" Amy chewed on the inside of her bottom lip as she waited for an answer.

"I'm working on it. All I know is it won't be in this house." She pointed at Pogo, who bared his teeth at her. "Or at least not as long as that little devil is here. And I don't suppose you'll be getting rid of the mutt any time soon. I would choose him over me anyway if I was in your shoes. It's not like I've ever been a good momma to you."

Amy froze as her heartbeat whooshed in her ears. It was the first time her mother had ever admitted that she knew she hadn't been a good mom. How was she supposed to respond? Saying that it was okay would be a lie. Because being the only child of two alcoholics hadn't been okay—or good—or pleasant in any way. Finally, a reply came to her, something she'd been told multiple times by well-meaning people who'd tried to make her feel better about her dysfunctional family. "You did the best you could."

"Yeah, something like that." Her mother jerked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing toward the kitchen. "I brought you some knives. Figured you might like them since you do all sorts of fancy cooking now. Also thought I'd pay you back for the bottle of Grey Goose I drank a few days ago. It wasn't very good for as expensive as that stuff is."

"Thank you," Amy said as she looked at Alex. He'd developed an eye twitch. "How thoughtful of you."

Her mother curled up into a tighter ball and pulled the blanket up over her head. The heartfelt and enlightening conversation was over. Alex sat down beside Amy on the couch and silently held her hand. More pieces of the puzzle that was her mother were falling into place.