Michael - Part 1: Rum Cake (B@GoE)

Part of Gloria's story? Backstage at the Garden of Eden

“I want to make the rum cake.”

Michael glanced at his wife and tried not to roll his eyes.

“Mummy it’s July. It’s too early to make the cake. Besides the ingredients won’t be on sale at this time of year.”

“It’s time to make the rum cake.” she said emphatically.

He looked again at his wife who shrugged. It was code for: ‘she’s your mother’. Michael knew better than to argue with either of them.

After their visit, they stopped by the liquor store for the rum with explicit instructions to get the proper Barbadian rum. “None of that Dominican stuff.” His wife stayed in the car while he stopped at the bulk food store to pick up the nuts and other ingredients for the cake. He hoped he remembered everything. He’d made the cake every year for decades with his mom. It became ‘their thing’ as the baby of the family, the last to leave home.

Normally Michael walked around the bulk food store in the late fall when things were on sale, at his mother’s insistence. Gloria would never pay full price for anything if she could find it on sale. She’d study the flyers and knew the annual sale patterns for the local retailers. She could have been an economist if her children had not come so young. She applied that good money sense to squeezing every penny out of her dollars.

Now standing in shorts and a t-shirt, he felt silly scooping up the raisins, almonds and pecans all at full price. He could hear his mother, “Don’t get more than you need, I’m not made of money.” He had no intention of giving his mother the bill of course but her voice was like a gull on his shoulder chattering and squawking at the price of everything.

“What $5 a pound? That’s ridiculous! Who’d buy it at that price? I paid $3.50 last time. Where do they get off charging that? I’m going to…” And it went on. Michael sighed and carried on down the aisle, sweating as much from his mother’s commentary as the heat of the shop.

In the spice aisle he stopped, looking once again for the whole mace. The search for an elusive diamond. But this time, there it was. “Don’t get that ground stuff it doesn’t taste the same. Gotta grind it yourself. That’s the secret. Grind your own spices. Mimi used to have a nutmeg tree in front of her house when I was a girl. She always dried and ground her own spices not like these old dead spices you buy here. Don’t pay full price. They’re trying to take your money. A fool and his money are soon parted.”

Michael looked again. Mace. There it was, in all its glory. The golden, lacy pieces, whole and sitting in the bin. He grabbed the tongs and carefully selected some. “Don’t get too much we only need a little. How much do they want? Outrageous! Even with my senior’s discount…ask the girl to give you my discount. They know me. Just tell her you’re Gloria’s son.”

Michael wondered if they’d know his mother. He smiled to himself. He was sure she was a ‘memorable customer’. Maybe they’d even go for it. If they knew what was good for them. He brought his loaded basket to the cashier. She smiled a conspiratorially when he said Gloria sent him. A grown man sent by his mom.

“I’m sure we can work it out,” she said graciously. “How’s she doing, I haven’t seen her for awhile.”
“She’s doing OK. It’s her heart, she doesn’t get around much anymore. She wants to make the rum cake. For Christmas."
“Oh yes?”
“Yeah. I know it’s a bit early.”
“OK, and would she like it if I gave her the Christmas discount?”
Michael stared at the cashier, sweat dripped down his back.
“You could do that?”
“Sure. I was just discussing our orders for the holidays this morning with my supplier. Your mom’s a good customer. I know how much she likes saving her pennies. How 'bout 40% off?

Michael stood 6 foot 4. He towered over the cashier. He felt that tickle in his nose he gets whenever he was about to cry. He blinked a few times looking down and nodded as the cashier rang in his items. A grown ass man crying in his shorts and sandals, buying ingredients for the Christmas rum cake in July.

“Have a great day, Michael. And give my best to your mom. She has a good son.”

“Thank you… thank you,” he said clearing his throat. Michael peered at her name tag. “Thank you, Grace. I will. I will.”

---

Notes: Grace is an ‘Apprentice’ learning to guide those passing from the living to the unliving world. Gloria will be one of those she helps. Michael is a new character, Gloria’s son.

Draft #1

Photo by Kate Laine on Unsplash