Bobby Ray came in carrying the day’s post just behind Mr. Lester and stopped just beside him. The kitchen appeared to have been turned upside down: flour decorated the cupboards and ceiling, the counters were indiscernible from the ingredients, bowls, spoons, and more spread haphazardly across them, and Averil was no pristine beauty herself in the midst of it all standing before the once-black, now multi-splattered oven.
But her smile was beatific. “Oh do turn your eyes from my kitchen and look at my cake!”
It was magnificent, glorious, a plummy perfect concoction resting her hands. And Bobby sure hoped they gave him a fat piece of it because somebody had to clean up the mess and chances were it wasn’t going to be Averil!