My dad says some ideas are like Venus flytraps and that lots of times, I’m the bug. I don’t know if it’s true or not; but when the summer brochure for the community center came in the mail, I circled Cakes with Caroline with a red marker. Then I dog-eared the page and left the brochure open on the counter for Mom.
Sweet Caroline was the nicest person on TV. She always treated clients like old friends and didn’t yell at her employees. She ended every episode by looking at the camera and saying, “Be sweet to those you meet.”
Tony was already signed up for the class, which was being held in a room filled with kitchenettes where you could work with real ovens and wear real chef hats. Even though cakes weren’t his specialty, he still thought it was important to know how to do them. And the bakers at his parents’ shop didn’t have the time to teach him.
After I got home from hanging out with Tony at the bakery, I went into the kitchen to grab a hot dog from the fridge and ask Mom if she’d registered me yet.
When she saw me, Mom stopped rinsing dishes and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Come have a seat,” she said.
Being asked to sit down is never a good sign.
I broke off an end of the cold hot dog and dangled it above Bear. She wagged her stumpy poodle tail so hard her whole backside shook, but then she remembered her manners and sat down. I gave the piece to Bear and then took my own bite.
“Eliza. Honey,” Mom said. (Honey isn’t a good sign, either.) “Dad and I talked it over, and we decided it wasn’t a good idea for you to take the cake-decorating class.”
I forgot the swallow-first-then-talk rule and choked a little. “Why not?” I asked between coughs.
Mom frowned. “Well,” she said, “the class is twice as expensive as all the other classes. Plus you have to buy a book and extra materials. At the moment, we just can’t afford it. Not with Dad changing career directions.”
Changing career directions was code for “losing his job and going back to college.” It meant I heard, “We can’t afford it,” as often as I heard Mom say, “I can’t today. I have to work.”
“But Mom . . .”
“Isn’t there another class you’d like to take instead?” She gave me a hopeful smile.
I crossed my arms and gave her my best stink eye. “No!”