Edna in the Desert (8 page)

Edna had already decided to make her father’s favorite dessert, Pineapple Upside-Down Cake, an esoteric offering that Grandma was unlikely to have all the ingredients for. She was going to give the cake to Johnny eventually, so it had to be something out of this world. Edna knew she could make a good one. She didn’t need a recipe; she’d made it with her mother a hundred times. The recipe was a visual aid in getting her trip to the store for ingredients. Better it was written in a book and not just on her say-so. Edna was confident in her plan to get to Bishop’s. A girl baking a cake was the most natural thing in the world.

She turned to the recipe for Pineapple Upside-Down Cake. A yellowed newspaper clipping was saved there, from the
San Diego Gazette,
dated September 16, 1964. The headline read:
San Diego Sweetie Takes Top Pineapple Prize
. Grandma, practically unrecognizable as a young woman named Mary Miller, had won a blue ribbon for what was described as her “knock-out delicious” Pineapple Upside-Down Cake. The article went on to say that Mrs. Miller was the wife of Lt. Ezekiel Miller, a Marine serving in Vietnam. Mary smiled sweetly behind her creation, the most robust Pineapple Upside-Down Cake that Edna had ever seen. Each pineapple ring was bursting with clusters of cherries and surrounded by flowers of chopped walnuts. The details were shown, but they were grainy in the old newspaper’s close-ups.

What felt like an uncanny coincidence was, in fact, no coincidence at all. Edna had thought of making Pineapple Upside-Down Cake because her father loved it, only she never knew that he loved it because his mother, this stranger named Mary Miller, made the best one in San Diego County in 1964.

Edna looked in the cookbook, where the clipping was kept. It read:
Pineapple Upside-Down Cake, a recipe by Mary Miller of San Diego, California
. Grandma was published.

For the first time Edna understood that her life was probably influenced in many ways by Mary Miller, and that her grandmother was a real person who had done more than subsist in this depressing desert all her life. It was an obvious point. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but it came as quite a shock. She had trouble sleeping that night, trying to picture her young grandmother. Nothing she came up with fit the person she knew.

The next morning, Edna brought her new curiosity about her grandparents and the cookbook into the kitchen. She’d never really tried being friendly to Grandma before. She’d been too devastated after being abandoned here to think about being nice. This morning, friendliness was the plan. She sincerely wanted to get to know Grandma better, but she had to be careful. It could look suspicious if she was suddenly too cheerful, as if she had an ulterior motive—which, even with her new interest, she did.

Grandma didn’t say anything to her about the cookbook she was holding when she came out of the pantry. Any other adult in her life would have said something if she walked into a room with a book, something like, “What are you reading?” In that case she would have told Grandma about how she found this book in the pantry and how she really loved making desserts. She’d talk about a few different recipes before even mentioning that they should a bake a cake, or which one. She would pretend they were picking out a recipe together. Edna was good at manipulating most of the adults she knew and harnessing their need to be liked by children, but she was still making too many assumptions about Grandma based on her other life.

“So, today, Grandma, I was thinking…I was feeling homesick, and I…”

Grandma didn’t soften her expression at Edna’s mention of being homesick.

“Sometimes, at home, I bake cakes or cookies with Mom, and Dad eats them mostly, but I was wondering if we could bake something and if you liked cake at all…or if Grandpa does.”

Did that make sense? Edna waited as though it was perfectly normal for Grandma to take so long to think about baking a cake.

“I guess we could.”

Normally Edna would smile and there would be a bonding moment, but there was no point in pushing for that. Edna opened the cookbook. She told Grandma how she hadn’t been this happy about baking a cake in a long time and that it was going to be fun. She didn’t have the patience to go through her usual twists before getting to the Pineapple Upside-Down Cake; it would probably be wasted on Grandma anyway. Edna was intrigued by what made Grandma tick, but she was way more interested in trying to get to Bishop’s.

“I read somewhere that you’re an expert at my favorite cake, which is Pineapple Upside-Down,” she announced.

She took out the old newspaper clipping and held it for Grandma to see. Grandma took it. Her hand went over her mouth, and her eyes welled up with tears. Without a word she went into the bedroom.

It was not the reaction Edna was expecting. She’d planned for Grandma to be tickled by her interest. Seeing the old article and Edna’s improved friendliness, Grandma would drop everything and tell her all about winning the first-prize ribbon at the San Diego County Fair. Then they would go shopping for Pineapple Upside-Down Cake ingredients and see Johnny, and Edna hadn’t even begun to imagine how amazing that was going to be.

Instead, Edna sat alone in one of those long desert silences while she tried to figure out what had just happened. Grandma seemed truly upset. Edna was pretty sure she hadn’t done anything wrong, but she felt guilty.

She was tempted to call home and ask her father if some horrible incident occurred involving Pineapple Upside-Down Cake or the San Diego County Fair. She might ask her mother what to do about a crying grandmother you didn’t really know all that well. But Edna reminded herself that she didn’t want to give those tyrants the satisfaction of helping her and that she’d hoped to go the rest of the summer without speaking to them. Getting a trip to the store might be more difficult than she’d thought, for reasons she didn’t even know existed. Concerned and not sure what to do next, Edna didn’t know if Grandma was all right. She wanted to apologize, if only for bringing up something that made her react so strongly. Edna listened at the door. If Grandma was crying in the bedroom, she was doing it quietly. Grandpa, in there with her, was silent as usual.

Edna gently tapped the door. Even if Grandma said, “Go away,” at least she would know that Edna cared about her. A few moments passed, but Grandma didn’t come and there wasn’t any sound. Edna knocked again, trying to sound a little louder but even kinder than before. Again, no answer. There was nothing to do. Edna swept the porch hoping that Grandma would come out. In a few minutes, she did. She went directly to the phone. Edna watched through an open window, too curious to interrupt her.

Grandma looked up a number on a handwritten list and dialed it, a few numbers at a time. She spoke into the phone like it was a foreign object.

“Hello, is that Jenny? This is Mary Miller. Will you please add, uh…four cans of Dole pineapples, the sliced rings in juice, two fresh pineapples, a pound of butter, a pound of white flour, a bag of walnuts, and, uh, two jars of maraschino cherries and a pound and a half of fresh cherries. Add that to my order next week, please. Thank you.”

She hung up the phone and set up Grandpa’s breakfast like she always did. She looked fine. Another silence. Grandma was standing exactly where she had been and doing the same exact thing as before she went into the bedroom. Edna wondered if Grandma knew the ingredients for Pineapple Upside-Down Cake by heart, or maybe she was looking them up. Grandma’s reaction to the newspaper clipping was still a mystery, but Edna saw a bigger issue emerging: the next grocery order would be coming next week—that was, in five days. The entire point of baking a cake was that Edna was hoping to hop in the car and be off to town in a few minutes.

She leaned on the windowsill.

“Thanks, Grandma,” she said, without meaning it much.

Grandma nodded, which meant, “You’re welcome.”

Grandma had done what she thought Edna wanted, and right away. Edna couldn’t think of a good enough reason to need to bake a cake now rather than next week, and she’d read enough Shimmer to know that she should leave things the way they were. Etiquette dictates that you never get what you want, and you have to pretend you’re happy with it. Etiquette meant waiting another five entire days to see Johnny, if he was the one delivering the groceries next week and it wasn’t someone else. She had no idea what had happened with Grandma, but she’d think of another reason to go to town. She had all day to think of one.

While it was tempting, Edna couldn’t share with Grandma why she wanted to go to Bishop’s, even though Grandma might know things about Johnny. She might be able to tell Edna what his house was like, if he was smart, or what he liked to do besides dirt biking. While Grandma had become slightly more human, Edna wouldn’t count her as an ally yet. She didn’t want some grandmother tapping her foot while she tried to charm Johnny in the grocery store or letting on that she’d been asking questions about him. Worse, if Edna divulged her new secret about liking Johnny, Grandma could have too much power over the outcome of any number of situations involving him. She thought about what to do next while she swept for a few more minutes.

“Grandma, do you ever go to Desert Palms?”

“Not much.”

“Grandma, I’d like to…see some things around here. Would you show me around town, maybe? Tomorrow? Please?”

Mary didn’t exactly remember the last time she went anywhere, but it could have been about a year ago, when Zeke went to the doctor. She reflected on that day, when she’d decided he’d have no more doctor visits. Edward had agreed. He wasn’t improving with any of them, not anymore.

While waiting for Grandma to answer her question, Edna wondered what Grandma’s opinion of Desert Palms was, why she never went there and how she could stand this dreary life.

“I’ll try the car tomorrow,” Grandma said, and then she added, “It must be boring for a girl your age around here.”

“Yes, a little.”

Edna was relieved. Grandma finally understood something about her. Edna understood very little about Grandma.

Edna put together the cutest outfit she possibly could. Her clothes, secretly packed by her mother, were too juvenile and sporty. She took out the appalling salmon dress she had been convinced to visit her grandparents in and decided to bury it in a hole later, so there’d be no chance of it coming back to Brentwood. The best look she could come up with was a fitted green vest that looked better with nothing underneath it and her jean skirt. She hated her modified ballet slippers, and sneakers were out, so she put on flip-flops. Her mother refused to let her have heels, claiming thirteen was too young wear them, even though celebrities’ five-year-olds wore them in magazines. Jill had Shimmer
to think about and she couldn’t set a bad example, or so she always said. Every milestone in Edna’s life had to be age-appropriate for the house dullards of Shimmer, and as a result, Edna could not wear a wedge or a pair of cute platforms.

Luckily she was permitted to carry her own purse, and having handled that enormous responsibility for a while, she was no longer subject to checks of what was in it every day. Edna had a little bit of makeup—eyeliner, pink lipstick and nail polish. Everyone brought makeup to school and put it on in the bathroom if they weren’t allowed to wear it at home. It turned out it was better that the trip to town was delayed so she could have time to consider her outfit and do her nails. She never did her own anymore, only touch-ups. At least there was less chance of messing it up here; polish dries quickly in the desert.

Edna didn’t know what kind of girls Johnny liked so she created the most grown-up, feminine look she could. Some boys swore they liked natural girls with no makeup on, but they were in the minority and Edna didn’t quite believe them. She left her hair down and put one little braid on the side. She tried to convince herself that there was no certainty of seeing Johnny just because they were going to town. If she didn’t run into him, she shouldn’t be too disappointed. She had no way of adhering to this philosophy, but the effort might cushion the blow if that was how things turned out. As much as she tried to establish a certain maturity, Edna knew she’d be crushed if she didn’t see Johnny, even though he could be out on a remote delivery, not unlike the one he made to Grandma’s every week, or on any number of errands. There was only so long they could wait around at a grocery store if he was out. Maybe he didn’t even work that day. Edna had no idea how they’d end up at Bishop’s to begin with.

She looked perfect for popping into a grocery store; if she were any more done up she’d look like she was on her way to something formal. Around here, what could that be?

Grandma passed the window on her way to the garage. Her walk didn’t have its usual authority. Edna read this as trepidation about driving. Grandma opened the garage door and got into the Bronco. She searched the dashboard for some time before she turned the car on. It pulled forward, stopped short and stalled. Grandma started it again and drove it up to the cabin. Her dress had to be ironed. She took an old pair of shoes out of the closet and cleaned them. She washed her hair and put it up. When she was dressed, she loaded two gallons of water into the Bronco. She packed apples and oranges into a cooler. Grandma’s preparation for a trip to town was not unlike Mrs. Anderson’s preparation for a transcontinental journey. They could have easily gone to town and back by now.

Edna waited on the porch next to Grandpa. No matter how long Grandma took, she was not going to get distracted and start doing things that might get her dirty, which was anything she could do at the cabin. At home, Jill would have told her she had too much makeup on and made her go wash her face, but when Grandma put a glass of water next to Grandpa’s chair, she only glanced at Edna slightly longer than she usually might. She didn’t say anything. Edna didn’t know she was preoccupied with leaving Grandpa. The last time Mary had left him, she’d moved him inside, but he was outside again when she came back. She didn’t bother with it today. They’d only be gone for a few hours.