For a moment, her expression went blank.
Then she turned toward Paula.
“Why is he here?”
I stood.
“Morning, Mom.”
She stared.
I nodded toward the desk.
“It’s my office.”
Her eyes widened.
“What?”
“I’m the owner.”
She looked at Erica.
Then Paula.
Then me again.
For nine years, she hadn’t spoken to me.
Now she’d arrived with a cake intended to impress her daughter’s new employer, only to discover that employer was the son she’d disowned.
Erica looked stunned.
“Fletch?”
I smiled faintly.
“Hi, Erica.”
Mom tightened her grip on the cake plate.
For a second, neither of us let go when I reached to take it.
Then she released it.
She looked toward Erica.
“Get your purse. We’re leaving.”
Erica stared.
“Mom, it’s my first day.”
“You didn’t tell me this was his business.”
“I didn’t know.”
Mom looked toward Paula.
Paula remained perfectly calm.
Then Mom turned back to Erica.
“Come home when you’re ready.”
She walked out.
The front door closed behind her.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Paula looked at me.
“So that’s your mother.”
I nodded.
“That’s my mother.”
She glanced at the cake.
“Looks good.”
I looked down.
“Grandma’s recipe.”
At lunch, the crew ate almost all of it beside the trucks.
Gundy had three pieces.
He announced it was the best coconut cake he’d tasted in years.
I took one bite.
The soft cake.
The toasted coconut.
The faint orange zest in the frosting.
For a moment, I was back in Grandma’s kitchen.
Eight years old.
Standing on a stool.
Trying to crack an egg with one hand.
I swallowed.
Then put down my fork.
That afternoon, I asked Erica to come into my office.
Paula joined us.
I wanted everything clear from the beginning.
Erica sat across from me looking nervous.
“Fletch, I swear I didn’t know.”
I nodded.
“I believe you.”
She looked down.
“If you want me to quit, I will.”
I shook my head.
“Paula hired you because she thought you’d be good at the job.”
Erica looked up.
“That’s still true.”
I continued.
“You’ll get the same ninety-day introductory period as anybody else. You’ll have the same responsibilities and the same standards.”
She nodded slowly.
Then I said, “But there’s one rule.”
Her face tightened.
“Mom doesn’t come into this building.”
She looked startled.
I continued.
“She can call you on your personal phone. She can pick you up outside if you want. But she doesn’t come in here to argue about family matters.”
Erica considered that.
Then nodded.
“Okay.”
Paula reached toward her.
“You’ve still got the price sticker on your sleeve.”
Erica looked down.
Sure enough, a little white label was stuck to the cuff of her blouse.
Paula peeled it off.
Erica laughed nervously.
Then she asked something I hadn’t expected.
“Fletch, where is Grandma buried?”
I stared.
She looked embarrassed.
“I never went to the funeral. Mom told me not to.”
Her voice trembled.
“I know I was old enough to decide for myself. I just didn’t.”
I took a breath.
“Behind Our Savior’s Lutheran. Third row from the fence.”
She nodded.
“Is there a marker?”
“Gray stone. LaVern planted a lilac beside it.”
Erica took out a sticky note.
She wrote down the directions.
Then folded the paper and placed it in her wallet.
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.
Finally, I told her, “Grandma would’ve been glad to see you.”
Her eyes filled.
Then she stood and returned to work.
That evening, I told Nina everything.
She was cooking dinner.
When I reached the part about Mom handing me the cake, Nina put down the spatula.
“You took it?”
I shrugged.
“She was handing it to the boss.”
Nina stared.
Then laughed so hard she had to lean against the counter.
I smiled.
Eventually, she stopped laughing.
Then she looked at me more seriously.
“How’s Erica?”
I considered the question.
“Trying.”
Nina nodded.
“Be kind to her.”
“I intend to.”
She turned back toward the stove.
“She’s probably going to have a difficult time at home.”
She was right.
The next morning, Paula drove Erica to work.
They lived only a few streets apart in Holmen, so Paula offered her a ride while Erica sorted out her transportation.
When Paula arrived at my parents’ house, Mom stood in the kitchen window.
As Erica climbed into the car, Mom opened the window.
“If you go back there, you’re responsible for getting yourself home.”
Paula rolled down her window.
“That’s all right, Sandra. She’s on my way.”
Then she drove off.
At lunch, Erica told me what had happened the previous evening.
Mom had accused her of betraying the family.
She insisted I’d arranged the job to embarrass her.
Erica tried explaining that Paula had interviewed and hired her without knowing who she was.