Doreen’s eyebrows shot up. “I said that, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but it’s not quite the same as a visual reminder,” she said, pointing to the measuring cup.
Doreen looked at her and asked, “What did I do wrong?”
“You must crack the eggs first, dear.”
Doreen winced and said, “Ouch, okay, that was a real beginner mistake.”
She reached for the measuring cup, pulled out the eggs, put them on a tea towel, and quickly cracked and dumped the contents into the measuring cup. After that, Nan led her step by step through the process. And the next half hour was sheer fun as they blended the ingredients, whipped up the butter and the sugar, added in the flour and the eggs, and then the lemon juice and poppy seeds.
When she filled the pans with the beautifully whipped fluffy cake batter, Doreen asked, “So, what’s next?”
“It goes in the oven,” Nan replied.
At that, Doreen stopped and looked at her.
Nan stared at her. “Did you put the oven on to preheat?”
She immediately shook her head.
“Oh, dear. We should have done that first,” Nan said, walking to the oven. “Come over here, and turn it on. Oh, let’s see. I would say, probably 375 for this.”
Doreen bent down in front of the oven and stared at the dials.
“What’s the matter?” Nan asked.
“Honestly?” she said. “I’ve never touched the oven. I don’t even know how to turn it on. Any cooking I do is on the stovetop.”
“Oh, that should be easy,” she said. “They’re all pretty much the same.” And Nan turned the oven dial, and a red light immediately came on.
“But doesn’t red mean stop?” Doreen asked.
“No, in the case of an oven, it usually means it’s turned on.” She added, “Now this one is newer than the old one I had. It might even tell us when it’s up to temperature. Or this other light might go off, when it’s up to temperature. Let’s set it for 375,” she said, and she showed her. “Now this is the only dial you need to turn on. Once you do that, it’s all set,” she said, “but let’s check where the racks are.”
She pulled out the racks and rearranged them. “Ideally you want to bake in the middle of the oven,” she said. “If you’re broiling, you want to be close to the top, but, if you’re baking something like a cake, the middle of the oven is best.” And, with that, they made tea, as they waited for the oven to warm up.
“Are we hurting the batter by waiting?” Doreen asked, her gaze on both filled pans.
“Well, it would have been more ideal if it had gone in immediately,” she said. “But it wasn’t ready, so no sense worrying about it. Only so many things you can control. Don’t bother worrying about something in the past. Learn the lesson and move on.”
She smiled at Nan. “That’s how you’ve survived all these years, isn’t it? By prioritizing the things that you worry about.”
“It’s called, don’t sweat the small stuff,” Nan said. “I think somebody even wrote a book like that.” She shrugged. “Why people would write a book about something so basic, I don’t know. But I think it was a best seller.”
Doreen laughed. “Because a lot of people, like me, need to be reminded that we only have access to a certain number of molecules or brain cells or energy in a day, and we need to prioritize what we’ll do with them.”
“Maybe,” Nan said. “But I never did understand why folks worry about things they can’t change.”
“Meaning, now that we already missed that opportunity to preheat the oven earlier, why worry, just carry on?”
“Exactly,” Nan said. “Because we can’t go back and change it anyway, so forget about it, and work with what we’ve got.” And then she said, “But you also promised me a cup of tea.”
Doreen laughed. “I did, indeed. So let’s get that water back on again.”
“That reminds me. My grandmother said we should never reheat tea water.”
Doreen stopped and looked at her. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, but I don’t remember the logic behind it now. It’s just something we’ve always done.”
“I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it?” she said. “We certainly have it in abundance here.” She dumped out the previously boiled teakettle full of water, only to refill it from the sink and put it back on again. Before long the oven was preheated, so the cakes went in.
At that point in time, the two women took their freshly made pot of tea outside and sat down at her new patio table set. Doreen took a seat and explained how Mack worked with somebody getting rid of this, so he brought it to her. She smiled when she thought about her cake and looked over at her grandmother. “Mack will be really surprised.”
“Yes, I can imagine,” Nan said, with a big smile. “He sure will. When is he coming?”
“I think tonight,” she said. “We were talking about dinner. He told me what he was thinking of cooking, but I honestly can’t remember anymore.” She groaned. “It seems like my short-term memory is gone.”
“Stress,” Nan said wisely. “It’ll do it to you every time.”
Doreen laughed. “In that case, I probably don’t have any brain cells left.”
“Well, the hits to your head certainly don’t help either. But, when you’re young enough, the brain cells will still rejuvenate. When you get to my age,” she said, with a frown, “they tend to stay gone.”
At that, Doreen burst out laughing. “I see no evidence of that, Nan.”
Thaddeus hopped onto Nan’s lap and then onto the table that Mack had brought them.
“Thaddeus is here. Thaddeus is here.” He looked over at Nan and said, “Thaddeus loves Nan.”
Nan burst into a huge smile, then got up and cuddled the beautiful parrot, until he hopped up onto her arms and snuggled up against her neck.
Doreen’s heart warmed at the sight of the two of them.
“He is such a beautiful pet, and so lovely to have. I miss him terribly,” Nan admitted. “But it was time.”
Doreen wanted to ask what made it time but didn’t really know how, and, besides, it was hardly appropriate when she was the one who had benefited from it all. “I just don’t want you to have second thoughts about it or to regret the move,” she said quietly.
“Not at all,” Nan said. “Not at all. It was the best thing I could have done. And look. It brought you back into my life.”
At that, Doreen winced. “I hope you didn’t do it just so it would bring me back,” she said, “because I could have just moved in with you.”
“You needed to experience independence for the first time in your life,” Nan said quietly. “And this was the way for you to get it.”
Doreen’s heart was torn because that was probably why Nan had moved to Rosemoor.
But then, with a bright, cheerful voice, Nan said. “And besides, if I’d stayed here, I wouldn’t have all the lovely new friends I have now,” she said. “I wouldn’t have all the fun with the betting that I’m not supposed to do,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “And look at all the treats I get.”