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Ruth Anne Hermosa
Edmonds, Washington – 2018
Standing in my kitchen,I watched my great-nephews as they added ingredients to the mixer. The boys were in fifth grade now and loved to cook. Starting when they were little, I made a point to do something special with them every Tuesday afternoon. We called our time together Terrific Twin Time.
When they were babies, I’d push them in the double stroller around town, window-shopping and looking at the boats in the harbor. As they grew older, we began taking advantage of all the wonderful amenities our quaint, seaside town had to offer such as the beach, the park, and the public library. On special occasions, we’d drive into Seattle to visit a museum or see a show.
Today, however, I had the brilliant idea to help them bake a birthday cake for their mother. It seemed impossible that my niece, Brandy, was turning thirty-four this month. That meant my daughter would be thirty the following week, and I would be... sixty-two? Was that true? How did I get to be so old?
As Ryan dumped the eggs into the mixing bowl, a devastating thought hit me. Turning sixty-two meant I’d experienced more birthdays without my twin sister than with her. It also meant—
No, I wouldn’t ruin Terrific Twin Time by thinking about Cheryl right now. Today was about my great-nephews and nothing else.
“Let’s make it go faster.” Caleb’s eyes danced with excitement as his hand hovered over the knob that regulated the mixer’s speed. Then, accidentally or maybe on purpose, he hit the knob, causing the mixer to take off like a rocket. The machine made a high-pitched whirling sound as batter smacked against the cupboard, the ceiling, and my face.
“Caleb!” I reached across him and turned off the mixer, but the damage was already done. Every square inch of the kitchen, including the boys and me, was covered in cake batter.
“Sorry.” Caleb looked at me with big, puppy dog eyes. “I really didn’t mean to do it. I mean, maybe I meant to make it go faster, but I didn’t think it would make such a big mess.”
I sighed. “I know you’re sorry, but when you’re in the kitchen, you have to be extra careful.”
“That’s what Mom is always telling him.” Ryan swiped away the cake batter on his glasses, which ended up smearing the lenses, making a bigger mess.
“Here.” I removed his glasses and washed them under the faucet.
“I really am sorry.” Caleb lifted a swipe of batter from the counter and stuck it in his mouth. “Yum. This is really good, Aunt Ruthie.”
“Mom says cake batter is bad for you.” Ryan glared at his brother. “You’re not supposed to eat raw eggs. You can get salmonella, right, Aunt Ruthie?”
“That’s right.” Using a soft tissue, I dried Ryan’s glasses.
Caleb shrugged. “I don’t care about that. I actually like salamanders.”
“Salmonella,” Ryan shouted. “Not salamanders.”
Suppressing a chuckle, I handed Ryan back his glasses. The boys never failed to crack me up, even if they were a little rambunctious. I gave them each a wet dish towel, and the three of us got to work cleaning up the mess.
When my phone rang, Caleb read the caller ID. “Amber Puglisi. Who’s that?”
My stomach pitched. I’d ignored Amber’s calls and messages long enough. I couldn’t run from her forever.
“Okay, boys. Why don’t you go outside and pick some flowers for your mom while I take this call.”
As they ran out to my garden in the backyard, I took a deep breath before answering my phone. “Amber. Good afternoon.”
“Mrs. Hermosa? Hi. Is this a good time to talk?”
I turned on the faucet and rinsed the batter out of the dishtowel. “Yes, I apologize for not getting back to you sooner.”
“That’s okay. I know you’re busy, so I’ll get right to the point. Eddie Landis is up for parole, and—”
My throat tightened. For the past month, Amber had left messages, explaining that she worked for the state of Texas as a victim’s liaison. It was urgent that she talk to me about Eddie Landis. I assumed her message had something to do with Eddie wanting to see Brandy, his daughter. But parole?
“Did he finally confess?” I asked, trying to understand why she’d called.
“No.”
