A Pocketful of Gems

Chapter 1: sing a song of six pence - Part 4

Spencer's blueberry muffin recipe is called 'Crown Jewel Muffins'. I reread the recipe as I walked home, left hand laden with shopping bags, an entire three months allowance worth of blueberries, whole nutmegs and a few baking staples. Even if I couldn't reproduce Spencer's recipe I could eat the blueberries. I slipped the recipe between my lips so I could unlock the door. I pushed it inward and paused sliding the sheet of paper out my mouth and heard a scream and a crash that partially overlapped it. I listened but heard nothing else. I kicked the door shut and it clicked quietly behind me. I walked slowly to the living-room, somewhat aware of what awaited me, and stood silently in the doorway.

Mom, drenched down her entire left side, knelt picking up fresh cut tulips off the floor. She trembled and occasionally a sob rocked her shoulders.

Dad, head in his hands, sat across from her on the couch. I looked at the unfamiliar shards of ceramic on the floor with the tulips... He threw the new vase at her? Why? His head rose and he pushed sweat dampened hair back.

"Chari-" he looked up and saw me standing there and went as white as a ghost and just as transparent. Mom groaned. "Gemma, when -"

I went into the kitchen, put my bags on the island and got the dust bin and mop out the broom closet.

"Go dry off," I told mom when I returned propping the mop against the wall and separated the bin and brush.

"I got it, Kitten."

"Go dry off," my voice came out harsher than I'd intended. Or maybe it didn't. Mom shuffled off gripping the tulips to her chest. I swept up the broken bits of vase and most of the water off the floor. Dad picked up the mop and slid it around the floor. I left him there and went to empty the pan and rinse it and its brush and left them in the sink to dry.

I washed my hands and unpacked my shopping bags pulled my hoodie off and deposited it on one of the spindly legged stools at the island. I stood staring at the packet of nutmegs that had slid out my bag when it had tipped to one side. I wiped my face on my shirt sleeves before picking up the nutmeg and setting to work making Spencer's Crown Jewel Muffins.

Mom never came back down and dad stayed in the living room, with the wet mop, till around midnight before going out for a long drive. I stayed in the kitchen. Baking. Mostly. Maybe it's because I cried so much, the first and second batch came out tough and dry.

When I woke at 7 I was still in the kitchen, flour from the counter caked to the side of my face. I was stiff and everything hurt. I hobbled upstairs and had a hot shower, making sure to use up all the hot water. When I turned off the shower I could hear the muffled shouts of my parents, a signal that mom was up and dad was back. I stood in the shower my head against the tiles and watch my wet hair spring back into curls.

I hurried down stairs, messenger bag slapping my thigh as I bounded down the steps two at a time.

"Gemma?" I stopped at the kitchen. Mom was the only one there. She poured herself a glass of O.J. "Want breakfast?"

I wasn't hungry, I opened my mouth to tell her that and instead asked, "are the eggs dry?"

                                 -

When did I get to the Bakery? It didn't matter; I was already feeling lighter at the thought of seeing Spencer. I looked pass the window display at the beautiful boy behind the counter. His smile warmed my skin and heated the air around me. I inhaled deeply. I needed this; Spencer's residual warmth and energy.

Spencer waved at me and I waved back. My hand trembled violently. I took my eyes off Spencer, for less than a second, felt a bone chilling cold, like I had been plunged into grimy cold water; the kind with slimy green algae floating on the top. I wrapped my trembling arm around me. Had Spencer noticed? Yes. The furrow between his yellow eyebrows was deep. I turned and pushed into the crowd behind me, bumped and tussled by the warm bodies.