#8 Gossip - Gossip

"I need three more cakes for the Bahar's." Dania called to me as she glided past placing a syrup crusted stack of plates in the sink to soak.

It was 8:30am and the kitchen was packed. I could've sworn that the entire house had gathered in our room. When this happened - which was becoming more and more often - I always joked that of our guests created a secret group chat where they collectively decided what time to come to breakfast since they all seemed to come at once.

A year ago, after Grace noticed the serious back up we experienced in the kitchen during days like today. She'd commissioned Tony to build us a bigger griddle that could be placed over the stove top. Instead of manning four pans and a small countertop griddle I was now able to use the stoves entire space to quickly serve up pancake after pancake.

Even with the vast improvement I was at full capacity as I tried to keep up with Evelyn and Dania's orders.

During breakfast time - particularly when we were busy - we ran the kitchen like a pop up restaurant, with me manning the griddle and Evelyn and Dania's taking orders, clearing plates and passing around syrup pitchers, fresh fruits, juices and coffee.

I glanced over my shoulder my eyes resting at the crowded tables. In the first year of the re-opening an oak tree had fallen across the only path leading into the property. The trunk alone was more than thirty feet around and it took a week for the town of Marbeth's ten person fire fighter brigade to move. Grace countered this literal roadblock by harnessing Tony's trail blazing skills to make the White Pine a path that ran along the drive and into town, turning it into another hiking trail that we have continued to recommend and is still well traveled.

Even the fallen oak had a silver lining as Grace thought of a more creative end for the massive chunks of wood. She commissioned a local artisan to fashion the trunk into tables and benches for our kitchen, claiming the long tables created a more communal area as well as maximizing space. The furniture turned out beautifully and worked in our favor on days like today when guests happily squeezed in alongside each other to eat family style.

"I am going to need more plates." I called to Evelyn as I flipped a stack of hot cakes onto the last brightly colored ceramic and sent it off with Dania.

It was days like today that I was thankful Grace had hired extra help. Although we had a self serve station on the kitchen island consisting of bagels, cereal and fruit most of our customers - especially the kids - opted for pancakes.

Dania was hired in the fall of the first year and Evelyn followed just in time for the winter holidays. The girls shared the part time work during the week and typically alternated weekends. Although, today they were both called in due to our full house.

I struggled to keep up with the orders. My arms felt as if there were sandbags tied to them making it three times more difficult to move properly between the browning cakes.

I'd gotten less than three hours of sleep last night. I blamed Lyle. I tried dozens of angles, multiple different expressions but they never came out right. Sure they looked enough like her that you could pick her out of a line up but they were missing something. Something important. The portraits were missing her. Not the likeness of her, but what I strived to put in every drawing. The defining characteristic I deemed worthy and prominent enough to capture something palpable.

While the portraits that covered my ceiling appeared multidimensional to my eyes Lyle's fell flat, the attempts crumpled into pitiful paper puddles next to my mattress.

I tried to give up, to put my pen down and go to sleep with a clear head, but it was no use. My mind buzzed as I coaxed my sleepy mind to recall a detail I may have missed, a word or a look that went over my head. It was hard for me to unfocus once I set my mind to a task, especially my drawings, and particularly when my curiosity played a prominent role.

Drawing was like an addiction to me, the feeling of knowing I captured a person's nature - or what I perceived it to be - was like crack. Not that I had ever tried crack, but people always made that analogy didn't they?

I woke up surrounded by her face - or at least parts of her face. Her features didn't seem to fit together harmoniously on the ripped pages.

Again I snuck a peak over my shoulder at the groups of people gathered tightly around the three long tables. My quick search produced no sign of her distinct confident posture among the slouched backs of guests as they dug into their breakfast. Lyle must have been the only one not in the kitchen I laughed to myself.

"Hey," I turned to meet my co worker Evelyn as she placed a fresh stack of green plates at my side as I re-oiled the griddle. "Mr. McCarthy said the stuff in his room was moved around when he got home last night. Did you clean it yesterday?" She paused at my station.

Her blond bobbed hair was pulled into a half pony and she played with a strand that had come loose as she rested her hip against the counter.

I shook my head, trying not to let my attention deviate from the pancakes. "No, it wasn't scheduled to be cleaned yet. They checked in yesterday morning." I reminded her thinking back to the laminated schedule I checked the night before.

She hummed in agreement and shrugged her shoulders tucking the loose strand of hair behind her ear. I handed her a plate and she glided back into the dining area. Dania soon took her place as I began mixing another batch of batter.

"Where's the other jar of honey?" Dania blew out a breath as she stopped at the counter for a quick rest. Her sky blue B&B tee already showed signs of the busy morning as it was littered with coffee and syrup stains - at least I wasn't the only one that seemed to attract messes.

I pointed with my shoulder to the cabinet above her head as I whisked the new batter free from any flour clumps. Today Dania's hair was done up in its usual bun revealing the underlying streaks of blue and green Evelyn dyed for her a week ago.

The girls, aside from working together shared an apartment in town a few blocks from the square. On more than one occasion they'd invited Grace, Tony, and I to dinner during the holidays.

Dania is an excellent baker and after Grace took one bit of her apple pie she gave her full reign over the kitchen for afternoon sweet treats. I appreciated it more than she could ever know because it meant I no longer had to attempt cookie recipes that I would inevitably burn.

Our chaotic morning continued on for the next half hour until the majority of the guests left for their days activities.

"Jesus." Dania exclaimed as she blew out another animated breath taking a seat at the kitchen island. She plopped a strawberry into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

"Evelyn told me you had some fun yesterday." She implied while wiping off a flour smudge from her glasses lenses.

I scrunched my nose in confusion as I scrubbed the giant griddle before disassembling it and tucking it into the cabinet below. I glanced at Evelyn who'd just finished with our last guest and was waving him goodbye as he exited out the side door.

"What are we talking about?" She asked returning the empty plate to the sink before taking a seat next to Dania to join her in munching on the food.

"May and her little rain excursion yesterday." Dania grinned mischievously as she fixed herself a bowl of cereal.

I groaned inwardly taking my spatula and empty bowl over to the sink where I soaked them in the soapy water Dania started.

As much as I loved my co workers, they like Grace, loved to match make and I knew I was in for a serious interrogation.

"Oh yes." Evelyn placed her elbows on the counter and leaned forward intently. "Do tell. Was she here today? Do I know her?" She looked around frantically as if Lyle might be still sitting in one of the crafted oak chairs.

I took a seat across from the girls and picked at the partially burnt pancakes I set aside. Lyle hadn't come in for breakfast and I wondered if she would come late just as she had the other day. I was anxious to study her for my drawing. There must be something I missed...

"Grace said you were gone all afternoon with her and that's why you weren't here to help clean." Evelyn accused overdramatically casting a sideways glance at Dania who nodded dutifully in return.

I grimaced, great now they were conspiring with Grace's amateur match making track.

"It was raining and she drove me home." I replied truthfully avoiding their intent looks. No way was I about to give them more information that they could hold over me.

"It was just a car ride Evelyn." Dania mimicked in a southern accent causing Evelyn to burst into giggles.

"Oh! These seats go so far back!" Evelyn patted her roommates knee suggestively as she shimmied.

The girls ignored me and went back and forth giggling and acting out a fictional scene. Dania was Lyle and Evelyn played me who blatantly flirted and threw herself at Dania with overdone sultry winks and innuendos.

I rolled my eyes theatrically but couldn't help reflecting on her words. It hadn't been just a ride home, I knew that. But then what had it been? Yesterday I even convinced myself to ask her out, so it was impossible to deny that I wasn't interested in her.

Undeniably I was attracted to her, she was naturally beautiful and I couldn't help but smile thinking of her laugh. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed she didn't show up for breakfast this morning. After my disastrous midnight sketching marathon I was anxious to see her. But it was all a little too Romeo and Juliet to think I was so deeply attracted to her after just one day. No - I was at a lack of sleep this morning because of her mystery. Which sounded cliché enough and I wasn't about to explain it to the girls, but to me it made sense.

I prided myself on knowing people, it was what I enjoyed and the most essential part of my drawing process. It came easy to me, something I was able to do without giving away too much of myself.

Maybe it was because of the relaxed nature of White Pine, people are on vacation so they don't find the need to put up a front. They allow their emotions to flow without erecting cinder block walls to keep strangers or even their loved ones out.

Lyle defied the rules I'd come to assume. She was guarded at every question, always prepared with a clever way to divert attention.

I reflected on the careful way she studied me and everything around her. She was acting like me. Was she playing the same game? Or looking for something else.

Unlike me her emotions were well monitored and calculated but somehow she still managed to make me laugh and left me wanting more. More time to figure her out, more time to find what I was missing that could complete my drawing.

As far as I could remember the only other person I had trouble drawing was my mother. After the success of Grace's portrait I immediately went to my mother. Gathering all the photos and her lone self portrait I spread them out on my bed and went to work. The results were dismal, I could hardly get past her eyes before she was unrecognizable.

She was always just out of reach.

I figured it was because I never actually met her, I hadn't been able to study her habits or notice the little ways she reacted. The realization was equally devastating, that I would never meet her nor could I ever create her in my mind. I wasn't looking for something close enough, I wanted perfect and that seemed intangible and illogical. So I gave up, altering my focus to those that I could find, those that I could understand.

Lyle was the outlier and her presence bothered and intrigued me. She was here and yet part of her was still inaccessible. I stood inches away without the right question to unlock that space, so I was asking them all.

"May,"

I flinched my head snapping up to meet Dania's gaze. "You've been picking at that pancake for the last five minutes, I think it's inedible now." She stated carefully.

I looked down at the plate. Sure enough I'd ripped the cake in half so many times over that it was practically indistinguishable.

"Oh." I mumbled twisting to my left to throw out what used to be my left over breakfast.

The girls had stopped their improv skit to stare at me in confusion. I brought my hand subconsciously to my locket and rubbed my thumb over it - a habit I often used to calm myself. My heart was racing - it must of been the four cups of tea I downed before the breakfast crowd. I gave a tight smile before turning to the sink to wash the dishes I'd left to soak.

We were silent for a moment as I collected my thoughts. I knew it wasn't the caffeinated tea, I always got a little worked up when I thought about my mother. Every time she materialized – no matter how fuzzy - I imagined I was having a conversation with her, even though I played both sides.

I looked up and caught my reflection in the bay window above the sink. My hair was still damp from my hurried shower this morning and the bags under my eyes were more prominent than usual. I cursed under my breath, in my sleep deprived mind I somehow managed to grab yesterday's shirt. As predicted I hadn't tried Grace's stain remedy, in fact I managed to gather even more stains. Now smudges of charcoal and ink blots dotted the light pink splotch across my chest.

I was truly a vision of beauty.

"Anyways, as I was saying," Evelyn said addressing Dania and I. The girls migrated from the stools to stand beside me on the right. Dania dried the clean dishes then handed them off to Evelyn who stowed them in the cabinet. We were quiet the assembly line. "I think Mrs. McCarthy is having an affair." Her voice went up three octaves and she recited her news in a sing songy tone.

"No way." Dania gasped in interest hoisting herself up to sit on the counter before picking up another plate.

Evelyn grinned folding her hands over her chest triumphantly then leaning forward she added in a hushed tone. "I saw some guy go into her room last night. And it was not her husband."

"Who?" Dania implored.

"One of the men who checked in yesterday, the ones in room #8. I don't know their names, May did you check them in?"

Their heads swiveled to stare at me like puppies patiently awaiting a treat. I nodded recalling the two burly men from the other night.

"It would make sense why Mr. McCarthy said all of his stuff was out of place. She must have moved it around when they were going at it." Dania wiggled her eyebrows in an insinuating manner about the possibly adulterous Midwestern mother.

The girls went on to elaborate on the story and I listened halfheartedly. My coworkers loved to act as the house busy bodies collecting tidbits of minute gossip that they then shared among themselves. It was harmless and added a bit of fun to the job as they made up incredibly involved story lines about guests.

I paid little attention to it mostly and accepted that like my drawings of the guests they too were trying in their own way to decipher the human nature we were surrounded with.

"May I think you need to rewash this one there's a white spot on it." Evelyn wiggled a cherry red plate in the air.

Indeed there was a white blotch on the outer rim and I frowned at the oddity.

"Shit that's me," Dania confessed turning over her hand to reveal her white splotched palms. The water from the damp plates had begun to moisten her skin and soften the color. "I was repainting the part of the wall where the incident happened."

Her voice lowered at the mention and we all nodded solemnly recalling the incident in which a customer upchucked on the wall leading to room #3. It was not a pretty site and required a serious game of rock paper scissors to decide who had to clean it.

Unfortunately I lost.

As a consolation Dania offered to paint over it to hopefully erasing my fowl memory - it was yet to work and I still felt sick every time I went to the basement or cleaned room #3.

On the bright side I was particularly thankful that the incident happened when it did. Months earlier and the mess would have hit one of my mother's paintings, I shuddered at the thought.

They were safe in Unit #16 while a local impressionist piece hung in its place.

"Be careful the paint is still a little wet to the left of the frame."

-

all this talk of pancakes makes me hungry...  why do you all think May is struggling to draw Lyle???

Vote & Comment if you like ! xo