Not Perfect(31)

Tabitha wasn’t sure how much time had gone by, but she smelled something. She sniffed and looked around. Nora appeared to be asleep. Tabitha forced herself up and tried to follow the smell, which eventually reminded her of the muffins. She scrambled to find oven mitts and pulled them out just in time. Another few minutes and they would have been all-out burned. But they looked good, like the best muffins she had ever seen. Fern was going to love them. She put them on the top of the stove, turned off the oven. She saw the candy tin, which was still open. She took a caramel and put it in her pocket, for later. She helped herself to a muffin, which was quite hot, but she couldn’t get it down fast enough. She looked at her watch. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet. She was planning to call the pediatrician today about Fern’s leg. She thought she could hear her moaning a little during the night, and putting it off didn’t seem right, but now that she thought about it, it seemed a little better this morning. Didn’t it? And Fern hadn’t complained about it at all that morning. In fact, Tabitha was pretty sure it was going to be completely back to normal soon, if it wasn’t already. You know what, she said in her head, or at least she thought it was in her head, I’ll wait and see how it is today, and then I’ll call. Or maybe she wouldn’t have to call at all. That was a very likely scenario. Everything was going to work itself out. Wow, she felt good. Why did she ever stop smoking pot? It was like she was free. What was she worrying about earlier?

She went back to the living room and sat down, laughing a little, or was she laughing a lot? She wasn’t sure. Nora opened her eyes and laughed too. Her face looked so much like Tabitha’s mother’s, didn’t it? Those strong cheekbones that were now hard and prominent, no longer padded and soft, making her look a little stern. All those wrinkles around her eyes. But it was really the neck, or the lack of it. Why did people seem to lose their necks when they got older? They looked like their heads were placed right on their shoulders.

“I have to go now, Nora,” Tabitha said. She had to pull herself together.

“Don’t forget the muffins, dear,” Nora said, her eyes closed again.

“I won’t, thank you,” Tabitha said. “I’ll come back soon.”

“Please do, dear,” Nora said. “Nobody else will do the marijuana with me, and I don’t like doing it by myself.”

“Well, I like doing it with you,” Tabitha said, feeling only slightly guilty about the extra candy in her pocket.

She went back to the kitchen, found a ziplock bag in a drawer, and piled all the muffins in. Then she grabbed one back out and ate it quickly. It was still warm and gooey and everything she could ever possibly want a muffin to be. She wanted another—would that be her third? But she also wanted to save them for Fern. She zipped the bag shut firmly, went back to the living room.

“I’m leaving now,” she said. “Can I tell you something before I go?”

“Sure, dear, anything,” Nora said sleepily.

“I’m worried that I might be responsible for the death of two people.” There, she said it. It was nagging at her, bringing her down. It was so easy to say things when she was high!

Nora opened her eyes. She didn’t look worried or even concerned. She looked amused—no, that wasn’t right—she looked interested.

“Oh, dear, I doubt that’s the case,” she said nicely, barely lifting her head. “But if you come back again, we can talk more about it. I’d like that. I can make more muffins. And maybe we can play some Monopoly.”



Tabitha’s business had been running for a solid five months when it happened. She was already thinking about what she could do to celebrate the six-month anniversary. She was leaning toward a drawing to give away a free meal—the only caveat was that the customer couldn’t choose the menu. She would do something crazy, exotic. It would be so much fun.

That night she served Asian beef, and it was good. Her true talent was in the details and the packaging, both of which she knew were making it hard to actually make any money, not to mention stop losing it. They didn’t have much savings to begin with, only a little in an untouchable college fund. They had already pulled out the bulk of their savings, with a penalty, when Stuart started his own firm. When she said she felt it was only right that she have a chance to start her business with what was left, Stuart had surprised her and agreed. In the end, she had been so glad she had taken that chance. But she just couldn’t figure out how to skimp. Really, she didn’t want to skimp, and that night the meal was as high end and delicious as any. She made an amazing braised beef with soy, sesame, and ginger, which she served with a side of wonderful sushi rice, a tower of beautifully washed and crisp butter lettuce leaves, and tiny beef spring rolls, which she fried herself. She put the meal out on her app around four o’clock. The business wasn’t totally legal, since she was cooking in her own home and often for more people in a night than was okay without a professional space. Also, she was charging money, which added that other requirement for supervised sanitary conditions. But she wasn’t the only one doing it. Shepherd’s Pie, her biggest competitor, had been successfully doing it for over a year before she even started. At first, she had people pick up the orders from the lobby, but that was especially difficult and raised all sorts of questions. Once she surpassed ten customers a night, she had to change that, so she hired a delivery guy on a bike—another expense—and bought a big warming bag. She had always been a good baker, baking for local cafés here and there, but she found she loved this even more.