Comfort and Whimsy 7

Posted on July 17th, 2010 in Comfort and Whimsy, Stories

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For previous editions, go here.

Carolina eyed the chair Hisbicus’ hand was fluttering over.

“She doesn’t bite,” Josh chided, nudging her forward.

“I just maim.”  Hibiscus burst into laughter at Carolina’s expression.  “A joke, dear!  So you’re 18 today!  Tell me, where do you go to school?”

“The Petticoat Academy for Girls.”  Carolina gingerly sat in the chair.  She toyed with the white lace napkin on the table with one hand, her other hand fingering the fabric of her pink dress.  “I’ve been going there since I was five.”

“The same classmates since you were five?”  Hisbiscus’ eyes bugged out.  “That must be terribly dull.”

“Oh no.” Carolina shrugged.  “It’s really nice actually, like a big family.  We’ve all known each other so long, it’s quite comfortable.”

Hibiscus raised an eyebrow.  “You’re not the adventurous type, are you dear?”

Carolina shook her head vehemently.  “Tomorrow I’m returning to Comfort for lunch.”  Her mouth drooled at the familiar memory of the chicken tenders, macaroni and cheese and peanut butter cookie.  It was only the knowledge she could have it tomorrow that kept her from bursting into tears or screaming.   Her long fingers began to roll the edge of the napkin back and forth, the lace imprinting delicate webs on her soft skin.

“You eat here with your grandmother often?”

“Every day during the week since I was six.”  Carolina didn’t bother to wait for her next question.  “And yes, I’ve been getting the same thing every day for 12 years.  Until today.”

“Why today?”  Hibiscus removed her enormous pink hat, revealing a smaller pink hat wound with a leopard print scarf.  Blinking in confusion for a moment, Carolina tore her eyes away from the hat long enough to answer.

“Well…”  she looked down and took a deep breath.  “I just thought that in a few months, I’ll be off to college somewhere.  And then things will be different all the time.  And I don’t like things to be different.  But maybe if they were different every once in a while, I wouldn’t mind so much.  And since my grandmother is running late…”  She checked the clock on the wall, her brow furrowing.  “This is extraordinary late for her.  I hope we get our food soon.  I’m going to be very late for class.”

“Things move as fast or as slow as you want them to in Whimsy, dear,” Hibiscus assured her, testing a crystal salt shaker by shaking it over her palm.  “I’m sure Josh will be back in a moment.”

Carolina watched Hibiscus throw salt over her shoulder.  “You eat here every day?”

“Five days a week.”  Hibiscus grinned.  “Except when I’m traveling, of course.”

“Where do you go?”  Carolina had never been on vacation.  Her father worked all the time and her mother refused to do anything but frequent her stylist and shop.  Her grandmother often said she had been everywhere she needed to go, and Carolina could travel when she was in college.   When she was younger, she would spend afternoons curled up in the library dreaming of the foreign places she wanted to see, walk in.  “Did you go to Africa and Europe?”

“And China and Egypt.”  Hibiscus flung her hands in the air.  “I’ve even been to Antarctica.  Beautiful place, but dismally cold.  And the food is terrible.  You’re better off ordering the Artic Adventure here.”

“What’s in the Artic Adventure?” Carolina asked, shrinking back in her chair.  “Nothing…penguin, right?”

“Just penguin eggs,” Josh said from behind them.  He leaned over and placed a plate between the two ladies and set down two glasses with a pitcher of iced tea.  “And those are eggs sculpted to look like a penguin, not actual penguin eggs.  Those are ridiculously expensive.”

“What goes along with the penguin eggs?” Carolina asked, staring at him in fascination.

“This marvelous white donut pastry creation with a sea of blueberry jam and seals sculpted from toast.  It’s very sweet, so only those with a sweet tooth enjoy it.”  Josh smiled and flourished his hand over the plate.  “Your appetizer on the menu surprise, madam.”

Carolina blinked at the plate.  “What is it?”

“It’s an antipasto plate,” Hibiscus explained.  “An Italian specialty.  See, we’ve got olives, capers, ham, sausage, cheese, tomatoes, artichoke hearts….”

Carolina pursed her lips.  None of it looked as good as her chicken fingers.  “How do you eat it?”

“Like this.”  Hibiscus shoveled a morbid amount of sausage and ham into a slice of cheese, then squeezed some olives and artichokes in the sides.  Folding the enormous concoction into her open mouth, she chewed and gulped it down.  “See?  You try.”

Spotting a few slices of garlic bread, Carolina carefully selected one and layered a small piece of cheese and ham on it, sprinkling in a few olives and artichokes.  Raising the loaded bread to her lips, she closed her eyes and took a bite.

When she opened her eyes, she was standing in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  A strange boy was beside her, grinning and jabbering in Italian.  She shook her head, her cheeks flaming.  He reached for her hand and she leaped back, nearly tumbling into a fountain.  With a cry, she stumbled onto a bench, closing her eyes to avoid the stares.

“Good, isn’t it?”

Carolina’s eyes flew open.  Shoving away from the table, she leaped up and put her hand to her lips.  “I was just in Italy.”

“So was I!” Hibiscus crowed.  “I went to Rome.  Where did you go?”

“I was just in Italy,” Carolina murmured.  “After a single bite.”

“Have another,” Hisbiscus urged, holding out the plate.

Carolina shook her head.  Smoothing her dress, she stepped toward the doorway.  Her heart was fluttering, ready to explode from the cacoon of her pink bodice.

“I need to find my grandmother,” she babbled, her eyes still fixed on the tiny piece of garlic toast loaded with meat and cheese, with only a tiny bite taken from it.  “And I’ve changed my mind.  I’ll eat in Comfort today.”

“But your lunch is ready!”  Carolina whirled around to see Josh standing behind her.  Smiling, he pulled up the silver warming cover.

“See, now how could you be scared of that?” he asked.  “What kind of adventure  could come from this?”

Carolina didn’t know, and she had no intention of finding out.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  We have a week of whimsy coming up!

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13 Responses to “Comfort and Whimsy 7”

  1. Mary Says:

    Poor child. She seems to have a problem. At the very least she suffers from a serious lack of imagination. Make her better, please! She needs to soar. Have a great day. Blessings…Mary

  2. gloria Says:

    aah! you and your stories Blonde, I hope she will be better! huggs gloria

  3. sophia Says:

    Crazy Carolina. She was just in Italy, with a boy! Was he cute? Hee hee. Hope she changes her mind and returns!

  4. Sophie Says:

    Another great story of yours!!!

  5. TeresaR Says:

    I want some of that antipasto! And “…penguin eggs…are ridiculously expensive” is soooo funny! Hope you’re having a grand weekend, Ducky! I’ve not been able to catch up on life and blog reading lately. Dang.

  6. betty manousos Says:

    Carolina, go back to Italy! I command you to.
    Another great story, Duckie!
    B xx

  7. debbie Says:

    What a fun romp!

  8. Reeni Says:

    I’m going to my kitchen to get garlic bread and olives…can you work your magic on me? Just when I thought you couldn’t outdo yourself…

  9. Pietro Says:

    Beautiful story!
    Flowers & sandwitches: a good combination!

  10. James Says:

    This is my kind of story. A little here and a little there.

  11. joeinvegas Says:

    Oh, wish they had a restaurant like that around here. But them lots of people dream of coming to Vegas, so maybe it’s somewhere else.

  12. Rachel (S[d]OC) Says:

    Now I REALLY need to eat there. I want to go to Italy that easily!

  13. Ramona Says:

    I know people just like that. No imagination. No adventure. Stuck in the rut.

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