extraordinaire, square dance queen of the South, fourth-richest woman in the country, thanks to her prescient investing during and after the dot-com boom and bust, matchmaker to the geriatric population of Crestwood, and the world’s worst cook. That Mitzi Granger. Feisty, opinionated, tell-it-like-it-is Mitzi, lover of all four-legged creatures, and his beloved aunt.
“Mitzi!” he roared.
“Yes, darlin’.” The ninety-pound, skinny stick of a woman wearing bib overalls and a flowered shirt, holding a spatula, appeared in the doorway.
“It’s four thirty in the morning, Mitzi!”
“I’ve been here since three. Your cat kept me company. I didn’t know you had a cat, Jacob. You should have told me you had a cat. I would have brought some catnip and a scratching post. By the time you brush your teeth, your breakfast will be ready.”
“Is the bacon burned, and will the eggs be rubbery? Is the coffee weak?”
“Yes to all of your questions. You know I can’t cook. Your mama was the cook in the family. Since I was the baby in the family, your grandmother understood my lust for life and let me do what I wanted. Cooking was not one of those things. Food is sustenance. That’s how you have to look at it. Someone has to look out for you, darlin’. I do wish you’d get married. Your cat likes me.” It was all said in one long swoosh of breath while the spatula waved back and forth.
“All right! All right! It’s four thirty! Why couldn’t you wait till six o’clock, when decent people get up to make breakfast?” Jake muttered on his way to the bathroom.
“Because I never sleep. I consider sleeping a waste of time. I have worlds to conquer, and as you can see, I’m not getting any younger. I like to get an early start on the day, unlike some people I know,” she said, jabbing the spatula in Jake’s direction. “For your information, I have an aerobics class at six thirty. Then I have my martial arts class at eight, and I do my yoga for an hour. No decent person eats breakfast at ten thirty. Ten thirty is time to start thinking about lunch,” Mitzi insisted as she made her way back to the kitchen, Elway hot on her trail.
“How stupid of me,” Jake continued to mutter as he stepped under the spray. Maybe if he stayed there long enough, Elway would eat the shitty breakfast his aunt was making. Had made. It sounded like it was just waiting for him to choke down.
When Jake trundled into the kitchen ten minutes later, he promised himself he would make a valiant effort to eat everything Mitzi made him, even if it killed him, because he adored his aunt and didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
Jake settled himself at the table but not before he looked around. Newspapers were everywhere. He raised a questioning eyebrow even though he already knew the answer.
“I was cutting out coupons to make the time go faster until it was time to wake you. I have eighteen dollars’ worth. You don’t mind, do you, darlin’?”
“Hell no! Just don’t buy me any more bargains. I have two hundred rolls of toilet paper jammed in my linen closet, sixty-four rolls of paper towels under the bed, forty-four cans of string beans sitting on top of my dishes, and sixteen tubes of Colgate toothpaste in my medicine cabinet. There’s no room for my aspirin bottle, and I don’t even like Colgate, I like Crest.”
“Get over it, darlin’. A bargain is a bargain. A penny saved is a penny earned.”
Why did he think he could win with Mitzi? “What’s on sale?”
“All kinds of good stuff. I heard about your dinner, or lack of it, with your father.”
Jake slapped at his forehead. “How do you do that, Mitzi? It was last night. Do you have some kind of pipeline that automatically feeds you information?” Jake asked as he picked up a piece of dry, burned toast.
Mitzi ignored the question. “He had a bad time on the golf course. That means something’s brewing with that…that woman. Tell me I’m wrong, darlin’.”
Jake jabbed his fork into the mound of rubbery eggs. There had to be at least six scrambled eggs on his plate. He shrugged. “I didn’t give him a chance to tell me whatever it was he wanted to talk about. I left and went to Burger King. He did say Sarabess Windsor wanted me to do some traveling for her. Yesterday was the anniversary of her daughter’s death. Miss Clara came in to change her will again and told me she saw Sarabess at the cemetery. Maybe there’s some kind of significance to the two things. That’s all I know, Mitzi. Do I really have to eat these eggs?”
“Of course not, just dump them in the disposal. I heard she was at the cemetery. I guess we can assume your father’s golf game had something to do with that visit.”
Jake dumped his breakfast into the sink before he slid his plate into the dishwasher. “Mitzi, do you remember Trinity Henderson?”
Mitzi’s cheeks puffed out. Jake thought she looked like a squirrel with flaming red hair. “Of course I remember her. I loved that girl as if she were my own. Time or her absence will never change my feelings for that young woman even though we don’t talk about her these days. You should know that. Why are we talking about Trinny? She ran away when she was fifteen. I remember it clear as if it was yesterday. I was the only one alarmed, but no one cared if I was concerned or not. They just let her go. I could never understand that. The Hendersons work for that woman, so what do you expect? As far as I know, the police weren’t even called in. I had the feeling back then that it was something like good riddance. The child never came back here as far as I know. I even hired private detectives to try to find her, but they didn’t. Why do you ask, darlin’?”
“Her name came up yesterday during my conversation with Miss Clara. Clara went on to say Sarabess was doing the weeping-and-wailing thing. Then I got to thinking about Trinity last night when I got home. She was a tough little cookie. I was wondering what happened to her, that’s all.”
“Your mama thought Trinity had a crush on you. I thought so, too. I know you had a crush on her. Oh, well, that was then, this is now. She’s probably married with little babies. I have to go now, darlin’. You don’t mind cleaning up this mess, do you?” Mitzi asked, waving her arm about to indicate the mutilated newspapers and the countertops.
Jake shook his head, dismayed at her words. “Thanks for the breakfast. How come you didn’t eat any?”
“Are you crazy? I only eat legumes, Jell-O, and greens. Your cat really likes me.”
Elway hissed as the door opened, then closed.
Jake sat down, exhausted. He looked at the clock. It read 5:15. He waited until he heard the roar of the racy Jaguar his aunt drove before he opened the door for Elway. The cat looked at him, then trotted off toward the living room. Jake didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. Actually, at that precise moment he felt meaner than a snake for some reason.
With nothing else to do until it was time to dress and head into the office, Jake made fresh coffee and toast. While he waited for the coffee to drip, he cleaned up his aunt’s mess. A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He loved Mitzi, and he knew she loved him.
He wasn’t sure if the term misfit applied to Mitzi or not. She was certainly her own person and marched to a different drummer. Everyone in town loved Mitzi except his father and Sarabess Windsor. Mitzi could always be counted on to lend her name to any worthy endeavor, give generously to causes, and work tirelessly for children’s and animals’ rights. It was true, she never slept; well, hardly
