Lemon cake

"That is the most astonishing thing I've ever heard." Miss Louise said indignantly.

-"What?" Jean asked, "Have you never heard of flavoring cakes?"

Jean set the aroma tubes down with an annoyed frown. Miss Louise had barged in for the umpteenth time in a fit of curiosity. Jean knew only too well what Miss Louise was fishing for.

-"I'm not surprised you're confused, “the curious neighbor said in a patronizing tone.

-"Oh?" Jean looked up for a moment, "And how is that?"

-"That boy I've seen walking in and out of here with you for two weeks." Miss Louise continued.

-"Vanilla." Jean said.

Miss Louise frowned: "I beg your pardon?"

Jean was beating the dough vigorously.

_"When I saw the car pull up, I believe a week or two ago, a young man got out with a suitcase in his hand. I walked out because I was afraid you might not be home." Miss Louise rattled on as she hung her head over the dough Jean was making.

-"Willy." Jean said briefly.

-"Willy?" Miss Louise repeated.

-"Yes, Willy." Jean confirmed casually, "My little brother.

Miss Louise was confused:

"Brother? He asked me if I was Aunt Jean." after a short pause, in which she had hoped for more information, Jean went up and down with her cake.

-"Then why did he ask for an aunt?"

-"We are not blood relatives." Jean said very dryly and almost uninterested, "My father married his mother, and we were raised as brother and sister for a few years."

"Then why does he call you an aunt?" Miss Louise insisted.

-"After I left home, my father and stepmother moved to California. I didn't see Willy for a long time after that. My father died six weeks ago, and now Willy is here." Jean tried a little clumsily to satisfy Miss Louise's curiosity - in vain.

-"And where is his mother?" she wanted to know.

-"He died when he was very young." Jean said dryly while she was washing her hands.

-"So, the poor kid has no one left but you." Miss Louise lamented. Jean sighed.

-"Does he keep the house in turmoil?" the question litany continued, "Is he good?"

-"He was born naughty." Jean laughed faintly.

-"I'm so sorry for you." Miss Louise wailed with a look of terror in her eyes.

-"Perhaps he was not properly cared for or raised." the curious neighbor was thinking out loud. "Is he intelligent?"

Jean burst out laughing, but she didn't answer and continued to clear the counter.

-"Hmm?" Miss Louise pressed for an answer.

"I think he was brought up pretty rough, but other than that he's very smart."

Miss Louise let out a sigh of relief:

"Then he can keep you company for now. You live all alone, and he could help you do your shopping."

"He won't stay here," Jean said firmly, pressing her thin lips together tightly.

-"Are you going to send him back?" Miss Louise cried out.

-"Having him here would keep me in a perpetual stew." Jean's voice sounded hard. “And I don't think I can afford the cost of his keep and training.”

-"A boy his age, surely can earn his own living or at least help with expenses?" Miss Louise argued a little defiantly. "I can take a look around and hear where he might be able to do odd jobs."

Jean didn't like the expression on Miss Louise's face.

" No doubt that he would be a terrible nuisance. What are you supposed to do with him? You've always lived alone." Miss Louise said with a contemptuous undertone.

-"Let me walk you to the door." Jean said grimly.

-"But Jean," the pushy neighbor continued, "What will people say?" she moaned as she followed Jean.

- “They will think you are a hard and heartless woman to send back an orphan. That boy does not need much, does he? A little food and drink. Who cooks for one can feed another, is it not?"

Jean lived in a large spotless house on a lonely street. Every day she went for a walk along a buttercup-lined road. She did so today as well. She needed to clear her head and think about this whole situation she didn't ask for. When she got home, Willy was not sitting on the porch where he usually sat in the afternoon. She went looking for him and found him in the back of the garden by the well. He looked pale and his eyes were red. Jean felt uneasy. She wasn't really the type to talk about feelings and things like that. It made her uncomfortable.

-"I stopped by Mrs. Wilson's this morning." she said, pretending not to see that the boy was having a tough time. "Come to the porch and we can talk about it."

She sat down and pretended to wipe a fluff off her beautiful black cashmere skirt as an excuse not to look at him.

-" Mrs. Wilson can take you. She has a small supermarket - the only one here in the village and surroundings." she added with a laugh, "a try out first." she coughed because she knew that came out wrong, " See how it goes." she tried to correct herself. "You´ll have your board and bed and in the winter, you will be able to attend school."

The boy seemed to shrink.

-"Daddy always said you were good and a nice person." he said wistfully. " Why can't I stay here?"

Jean stared blankly ahead. It wasn't that she didn't love her stepbrother, but he looked so much like her father. It was as if the man spoke to her through Willy's mouth, from beyond the grave. Too much had happened over the years. Things she had not processed yet, and Willy would only make things harder for her. With Willy in her house, it would not be easy to overlook the damage done to her.

-"I'm sorry kid." Jean whispered, "I can't afford to keep you here." she tried to explain to him. "You'll be fine with Mrs. Williams. Go wash your face, and for pity's sake don't look so sad."

Willy turned and walked silently to the bathroom. Jean could hear him sob. She took a stern step to her bedroom and pulled a wallet from the drawer of her nightstand.

I really shouldn't be doing this, she told herself. But he doesn't have a cent.

As she left her bedroom, Willy was standing at the door. She clumsily stuffed the money into his hand.

-"And don´t spend it on foolishness now,” she said.

Willy was very moved by this gesture. Jean`s heart softened a bit at the sight of Willy's eyes. She knew that Mrs. Williams was not an easy woman and a very tough teacher

A week after the boy left home, Jean saw him in the store. He was lifting heavy bags. His head was red. The work was too hard for him. Jean felt a stab in her conscience. She bought a roll of mints for Willy and brought it to him. He thanked her shyly and quickly walked away.

Why does she make that kid work so hard? Jean thought indignantly to herself. I'll have to talk to her about this. A few days later she did. She got an answer that made her ears tingle. Mrs. Williams bluntly told her that if she was not satisfied, she could gladly take the boy back.

It was a difficult summer for Jean. She didn't get much comfort out of life. Everywhere she went she could see Willy busy with heavy labor. She couldn't help noticing that he was very thin and that he looked very pale. She worried.

Even in church, Willy sat opposite her. She had always loved walking down the aisle of the church, her silk skirt rustling, her cashmere scarf folded correctly over her shoulders, and her lace hairpiece tucked into the gleaming folds of her hair. But now she didn't feel comfortable even during Holy Mass. The boy's eyes had grown too large for his face.

Gradually, Jean began to soften her heart, until it almost broke. One October morning, Miss Louise burst into her kitchen with an indignant face. Jean was baking cake again.

"No thanks, I'm not going to sit down." she gasped, "I can't stay. Have you heard about your little brother? He fell ill."

Jean looked at her neighbor anxiously.

"The fever," Miss Louise continued, "They say it's the fever."

Jean put her hands over her mouth.

"People say he worked himself half to death. Everybody l knows Mrs. Williams treated him like a slave. The way she handled that boy, which must be criminal. The boy must have been homesick. The exhaustion I guess."

Jean staggered to a chair by the table. Her face was as white as a sheet. Something about Miss Louise reminded her of a machine gun.

-"Mr. Williams took him to the hospital yesterday." Miss Louise continued breathlessly, "Good grace Jean, are you ok?"

-"I feel dizzy,” Jean replied. “I was not prepared for this." Her voice was coarse.

"Okay, honey. I have to go. I'm in a hurry. My husband will be home in a minute, and I have to prepare his dinner. You know how men get when their food isn't on the table when they get home. I just thought I'd bring you the news. I had to come and say this to you as soon as possible."

Jean put her face in her hands.

It's all my fault, Jean moaned. I am a bad woman. I am a bad and selfish person.

She went straight to the hospital and overwhelmed the attending physician with a thousand questions she wanted to ask all at once. The doctor shook his head.

-"It doesn't look good." he said. "That boy is exhausted in every way. They brought him here last night. That was a dreadful thing, he should have been taken care of right at home. That ride was too much for him. You can see him now, but he is delirious. The fever is much too high. He may not even recognize you. He keeps asking about his father."

"Yes, “Jean answered, "He worshipped his father."

Jean followed the doctor closely through a long hall. when he stopped by a bed, she pushed him aside. Jean could not believe her eyes: Willy was tossing restlessly on his pillow. He was emaciated. His eyes burned bright like an animal caught in the headlights of a car. His head was crimson.

Jean bent down and took Willy's hands in hers.

-"Willy." she sobbed.

-"Who are you?" he shouted.

"It's me. Jean...!" she stammered.

"No," he roared, "Daddy said Jean was sweet and nice. I want to go to Daddy!" Where is Daddy? I want to go to daddy!"

Jean straightened and looked at the doctor.

-"You must do something doctor." she murmured, "He has to get well. Otherwise, I won´t be able to live with myself. This is all my fault." she gasped and looked from Willy to the doctor:

-"He must get better." she repeated stubbornly. "Spare no expense. He must live so that I have the chance to make it up to him."

Willy's recovery proved to be a struggle, and there were days when it looked like death would win. But Willy lived. Jean lost a lot of weight during those days. Miss Louise even began to feel sorry for her.

Jean visited Willy every day, and after a while, he even began to look forward to her visit.

The day came when the doctor announced that Willy was finally ready to go home.

Jean couldn't stop laughing as she drove to the hospital for the last time. The hills looked so peaceful in the late October sun.

-"Come, Willy, let's go home." Jean said. The boy drew back.

-"To Mrs. Williams?" he asked pitifully.

-"No dude," Jean reassured him. "You never have to go there again."

-"What are we going to do when we get home?" Willy asked.

-"Let's bake a cake." laughed Jean laughed.

-"Lemon cake!" Willy cheered. "That was Dad's favorite.

-"That was Daddy's favorite." Jean repeated.