INTRODUCTION 
 

Hello, my name is Olive Olivia and I live on the South End of Boston, Massachusetts.  I moved here from Virginia a few years ago because I just loved the town with its brick, brownstone townhouses, tree-lined streets, brick sidewalks, parks, playgrounds, and community gardens.  I was invited to visit, by my friend, Olleah Lathan, who was born and raised in Boston.  For a while, Olleah was living in Virginia, but ended up going back to Boston to take care of her sick mom, who eventually died.  After having to go back home to take care of her mom, Olleah decided to remain there.  It was such a great disappointment to me.  My friend was gone and now our time spent together talking would be lost; phone calls could not compete with the times we had sitting down with a cup of tea, eating sandwiches, laughing and talking as we discussed current events.

Olleah and I come from two completely different backgrounds.  She comes from a home where her mother was a doctor, head of pediatrics and her dad, an insurance investigator with a prestigious law firm.  On the other hand, in my home, my mother was a homemaker and dad worked for the city as a Waste Management Specialist, in other words, he was a trash man.  In spite of our differences, we are the best of friends and have been from the very beginning. 

Olleah and I first met in Virginia at a school for culinary arts.  We both started class on the same day for a three-week, non-credit course in pastry making and were teamed up together.  I remember how shy acting she was; poor thing didn’t even know how to boil a kettle of water.  Most times, our instructor would reprimand the two of us for talking too much and not paying attention to what he was saying. Then, one evening we were expelled from his class because he could no longer deal with the two of us together in the same room and called us a distraction to his expertise in teaching.  Can you imagine the embarrassment of being kicked out of a class that is not even a degree program?  Well, nothing earned – nothing lost, and it was okay though; we had too many regrets about taking the class anyways.  We thought that we would be baking delectable delights to bring home and enjoy after each class but found out differently; there weren’t even any ovens in the classroom – what a disappointment.  The instructor said that we would first have to learn the concept and chemistry of baking before he would even let us near a hot oven.  When he said that, we just looked at each other and continued our conversations, talking about him and how we disliked the little guy.

 Olleah always had something entertaining to talk about.  I loved it when she talked about some of her father’s favorite cases that he took on as an insurance investigator – some of the things people tried to get away with in order to get a little money in their pockets was hilarious.  On this particular day she called me very excited and gave me some minute bits and pieces of a news flash. I wanted and desired more information and could hardly wait for her to get to my house.  I was very intrigued by what I’d heard so while I waited for her arrival, I brewed a kettle of Pomegranate Honey tea and prepared petite sandwiches filled with egg salad and Prosciutto.  I also went out and made ready the patio so that we could sit outside under the shade of the White Oak tree.  I was ready for our time of relaxation and informative discussion.

CONVERSATION 1 

Geoffrey’s Birthday Party

Olleah finally arrived and we sat down for our little tête-à-tête.  The sun was high, but the cool, gentle breeze made way for a nice and delightful chat as we sat on the cushioned white wicker settee.  I was really anxious to hear the rest of the story, so we sat down immediately and as I served her the Pomegranate Honey tea, she began giving me the juicy details of the story.

 I sat in quiet anticipation as she said, “I was downtown at the Windham Antique Shop when I heard that there was a robbery at the Harrington Mansion – a masked intruder invaded the home.”  This was one of many robberies in be the gated community, but first the antique dealer told her and another patron in the shop about the family surprised by the intruder while they were celebrating their son’s birthday dinner. 

She went on to say, “As he spoke, our ears and eyes were wide open.” He said, “At the mansion, the cook was in the kitchen preparing dinner for the Harrington family.  It was their one and only child, Geoffrey’s birthday dinner.  She had cooked all of his favorite things – fig glazed pheasant with roasted red potatoes, mixed greens with summer squash, cheesy french fries and corn muffins.  For dessert, she baked a triple stacked red velvet cake with cherries and butter crème frosting to be served with homemade vanilla bean ice cream.

It was a strange day.  Weird things were happening.  During the day, the cook and the butler were in the mansion alone, cleaning and preparing for the birthday event while the family was out for a day filled with fun for Geoffrey.  The butler, Matthew, reported finding smeared windows open that should have been closed; fingerprints on tables and chairs, which he had just dusted and waxed the night prior and footprints on the redwood floor that had just been cleaned and buffed.  This caused a huge argument between he and the cook when accusing her of destroying all of his hard work causing him to go back over his work and check each and every room of the fifty-room mansion.  He was fed up with her shenanigans and let her know in a very rude and thoughtless way.  Of course, she denied each of his accusations and was brought to tears as he insisted that it could only have been she that had committed such a foolish, childish act.

Settling and calming her frazzled emotions, she went back to the kitchen and dressed several pheasants with fruit and spices, letting them marinate as she peeled the miniature potatoes.  At one point, she thought she heard footsteps coming from the main hallway – but there was no one there.  Other noises were heard; shuffling, things dropping – she finally brushed it off as her just hearing things that really were not happening because of tiredness or maybe just the spirits, which she had gotten so used too, being stirred up in the big old house.

Dinner was completed and the table was all set with the special dinnerware as family members began to arrive. Aunts, uncles, cousins, sisters and brothers all arriving around the same time – six pm to celebrate Geoffrey’s tenth birthday dinner.  Sitting around the long, rectangular, cherry wood table, they talked, told jokes and laughed as dinner was about to be served.  When the fig glazed Pheasant were brought out, there were “ooh’s” and “ahh’s”.  The aromas that were wafting through the air triggered the taste buds that anxiously waited at each seat around the table.  As the food was spread by hired servers with each of Geoffrey’s favorite things, he laughed with glee and clapped for joy.  His parents loved seeing him happy and did what they could to fulfill his every wish – food was his very favorite thing, and you could see it on his once little frame that was now pudgier.

Finally, an enormous tray of corn muffins was brought out and placed in the center of the table. At the precise moment that they were set down onto the table, a scream was let out as a masked intruder ran in from the foyer, grabbed the frightened cook and placed a gun at her head.  Geoffrey, the family and servers were frightened by what was taking place in front of their eyes.  Suddenly, Geoffrey, surmising the situation picked up a corn muffin and looking at it very carefully, aimed it at the masked intruder.  The rest of the family watching Geoffrey followed suit and also picked up a corn muffin.  

“They must really be a bunch of hungry captives,” thought the masked intruder as he and began telling them to take off their jewelry along with any money they had and place it into the large, burlap bag he had thrown onto the table. 

The masked intruder was in for a big surprise.  You see, he had no idea that each year on the anniversary of Geoffrey’s birthday, they also had their annual corn muffin fight which was implemented by Geoffrey when it was found out that the cook was terrible at making corn muffins…the muffins always turned out hard as rocks.  So, on Geoffrey’s cue, the cook dropped to her knees, and everyone began plummeting the masked intruder with corn muffins, jumping and laughing, enjoying their family fun; the intruder had no idea what had just hit him as he fell to the hardwood floor. 

“Well, Olleah, did they kill the masked intruder?”

“Oh no, he was just knocked out cold, covered in a pile of corn muffin dust when the police retrieved him from the site.  The family just settled down and enjoyed the rest of Geoffrey’s birthday meal, as if he were not even present.  I guess this will be a birthday dinner that Geoffrey will never, ever forget.”

“I’m sure that masked intruder won’t ever forget it either,” I said as we finished up our sandwiches.

“Well Olive, tea was delicious and so were the sandwiches, but I really have to leave now.  Until next time we meet again…my home?”

“Yes, dear…your home.”

CONVERSATION 2 

Aunt Callida Wreaking Havoc

Today, I am on my way to Olleah’s home for our weekly discussion and visit with each other.  I just love going to her home – it’s beautiful.  She lives in Beacon Hill in a brownstone brick row house.  When you see the street, she lives on, you are reminded of the old colonial Boston with its brick sidewalks, narrow streets and even the gas lamps.  The window boxes are extraordinarily beautiful with their colorful array of flowers and greenery.  The main street is lined with antique shops and restaurants; it’s such a beautiful place.  I just love the times I get to spend over there.

When I called Olleah this morning, she sounded so upset and was ranting about some issue she had with her Aunt Callida involving either her property or her neighbor’s property and the police.  I couldn’t get the gist of what she was trying to say because when she gets excited or nervous, she talks 100 miles per hour, and I couldn’t understand a single word she was saying.  I really hope everything, and everyone is okay.  I told her I would get to the house as soon as I fed my cat, Jada.

Okay, here we are on Cambridge Street.  She should be just around the corner at number Ten Storrow Drive.  Oh…oh my word! What do we have here? What in the world happened?  This is a total mess! The tree pits with the beautiful colorful floral arrangements are completely destroyed in front of several homes and the white window box that was hanging next to the black painted shuttered windows of Olleah’s brownstone, filled with Chrysanthemums is no longer hanging, but is shattered into pieces in front of her home.  My…my…my – I need to get inside to see exactly what all of this commotion is all about.

When Olleah answered the door, she seemed to have calmed down a bit and said, “Olive, you won’t believe what happened this morning.  Did you see the mess outside on my block?”

“Olleah, yes! How could I not miss it?  What happened to your beautiful block? The tree pit with all of the beautiful colored flowers is destroyed in front of several houses.  Weren’t you one of the honorees that received an award from the Beacon Hill Civic Association and the Beacon Hill Garden Club for your beautiful arrangements this year?”

With an anguish groan, Olleah cried, “Yes and now it’s all destroyed!”  

I tried comforting my friend as best as I could, but the more she tried talking about it, the more upset she got.  As we sat down at the kitchen table, she apologized for not having our tea and sandwiches ready and I assured her that there was no need to apologize, and I that I understood.

“Please, just tell me what happened,” I said as I handed her a tissue.

“Well, this morning I received a call from my Aunt Daisy telling me that Aunt Callida was on her way over to show me something great.  So, I asked her what Aunt Callida had to show me.  At first she wouldn’t tell me; it was like taking a banana from a monkey when trying to get the information out of her.  She then said, ‘your Aunt Callida has a surprise for you’.”  

“Olive, you know I love surprises and it’s not unusual for Aunt Callida to bring me one every once in a while. But the thing is, I get nervous when I am told she has a surprise for me.”  

Out of curiosity, I asked her why in the world, would she get nervous with her aunt bringing her a surprise.  At that point, she got up and walked over to the window, looked out and paused for a moment and then began pacing the floor.  

“You don’t understand, Olive.  The surprises that Aunt Callida gives to me are always that…a surprise that you could never ever imagine being given or even wanting to gratefully accept.  Her surprises always end up having a catastrophic affect.  One time, she bought me a basket full of oranges that she got from the market.  The oranges on top were beautiful and brightly colored, but the ones on the bottom of the basket were rotten and it was days after that I began seeing fruit flies is when I discovered what was happening and where they were coming from. I had to call in an exterminator. Another time for my birthday, she treated me to the trip of a lifetime – South Africa.  I was excited about the trip thinking it would be in a luxurious hotel, somewhere on a beach where I could just relax and have a fun time.  We ended up in the jungle, in a tent on an expedition with a missionary group, fighting mosquitoes and flies, ending up in the local hospital with a horrific case of dehydration and diarrhea.  

Olive, when my Aunt Daisy told me that Aunt Callida was coming over with a surprise, I had a major panic attack just fretting about what she was about to bring me this time!  Aunt Daisy finally told me what the surprise was – Aunt Callida has been taking driving lessons and was on her way over to my house to show me her new vehicle, which she just purchased.  I was fine with that when I heard it.  In fact, I was elated because I’m the one who has been her self-appointed personal chauffeur for the past couple of years, taking Aunt Callida everywhere she needed to go. Whether it is the market, to the doctor’s office, to the bank or the shopping mall, I’m the one who would take her on every excursion, so hearing this information made me quite happy.  I thought about it and said, ‘Great!’ Now I’ll have more time for myself and won’t have to take her around that much anymore. Believe me, I was fine with it.”

I watched as Olleah’s temperament ever so slightly change as she got deeper into what she had experienced with her Aunt Callida. 

Wringing her hands, she continued talking and with each detail her voice would differ in range. Now, in a high-pitched voice, she said, “As I was preparing to put the kettle of water on for our tea and grind the chicken up for our Chicken Salad sandwiches, I heard this loud blaring noise coming up the road.  I then heard some banging and people screaming and someone yelling for others to ‘get out of the way!’ That’s when I ran to the door and saw the police chasing after this person driving like a maniac coming up the drive towards my house.  It was really frightening at what I was seeing.  I couldn’t see the persons face because it was covered, but I got an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it was exactly what I feared. Aunt Callida - I’m sorry to say, it was her!”

“Oh, my, Olleah! Why could you not see her face?”

“Olive, she was riding a motorcycle, had on a helmet and ran right straight into my house.  The thing that saved her is that she ran out of gas and only received a few minor bruises, cuts and scratches.”

“Wow! Your aunt is a very adventurous one, isn’t she?  I hope there were no other persons hurt!”

“No one else was hurt, thank God and because my uncle is the captain of the police force, they lessened the charged to failing to obey traffic signs and let her go after the paramedics cleaned and bandaged her scars.  We took her to the hospital, and nothing is broken. She’s home now with Aunt Daisy, and I’m happy to say that the motorcycle was completely destroyed and never ever to be used again.  Olive, she had only taken two riding lessons and hadn’t even completed the course or received her license to drive the thing.”

“No! Two lessons…no license to drive? Oh dear, Olleah…I guess you’ll have to go back to driving your Aunt Callida around – won’t you?”

“Yes, I guess so.  Ooh…now I have a really bad headache.”

“Olleah, now you sit down and let me fix you that cup of hot tea and I’ll prepare the sandwiches.  You just sit down and relax; I’ll take care of things today.  

Olleah was finally able to find the humor in it all, so as I prepared our meal, we giggled and laughed as she made fun of how Aunt Callida looked in her motorcycle gear.

CONVERSATION 3

Cooking Class Memories

Things had settled down with and I prepared our lunch of Chicken Salad sandwiches and cinnamon tea.  Sitting in Olleah’s sunroom, we both took a much-needed deep breath and relaxed in the sunlight that permeated the large rectangular, bright and airy room that was just off the kitchen.  Its bold yellow color was very refreshing as we sipped our tea. 

Olleah closed her eyes and said, “Olive, I really appreciate you and our friendship.  Sometimes things get so hectic for me, being the only girl in my family with three brothers.  I am so glad that we met in that cooking class.  Do you remember the first day in class and how the instructor, Monsieur François Le’toine stood up and introduced himself to the class with his broken fake French accent, dressed in his green chef’s outfit from head to toe, giving us his rules and regulations? He is no more French than my Aunt Sadie’s toy French Poodle.”

“Olleah, I remember well. He really tried hard to get us to get us to sign our names to those crazy rules that made no sense at all.  Rule #1 – no talking in class; just listen to me and I’ll ask the questions and answer them for you.”

“Oh Olive, rule #2 was a doozy, too ‘No restroom breaks.  Was he nuts? When I have to go, I have to go and not one piece of paper signed, but the one in the bathroom stall is pleasurable enough for me when I have to go.”

They laughed until tears ran down their cheeks.

Olive was able to control herself long enough to say, “Now what was rule number three…ah let me see…”     

Olleah chimed in and said, “Oh, I know – Rule #3 – No conversation with your pastry partner.”

“Yes! Yes! That’s it. Now Olleah, how were we going to cook together and figure things out if we couldn’t talk with each other?  What were we supposed to do – use sign language or play pantomime?  That’s a class I haven’t yet taken.”

“Yes Olive, that little man was crazy! He even made up a rule saying that once we get into baking, we were not allowed to take any leftovers home.  All leftovers, if any were for his use – for his use? What in the world would he do with them besides eat them?”

“Um...no! Olleah, I tell you what…if we had made it to the point of any real baking, my pastries and any other food that was prepared by me, would be going home with me in my little Tupperware container that I faithfully carry in my purse, for my bedtime snacking.”

“Oh, yes! Me too.”

They high fived each other.

Olive smacked her lips and said, “I was actually looking forward to learning how to make French pastries – especially Apple Strudel.”

“And I wanted to learn how to make Strawberry Bavarois,” said Olleah.

“Strawberry Bavarois? What’s that, Olleah?”

“You’ve never heard of them? Well, they’re small pastries with a mixture of diced strawberries and Bavarian cream, folded with cake and then packed into a mold that is covered with an apricot glaze.  I had a few a while back at a social gathering in Virginia; so delicious…yummy…yum…yum.”

“Well, Olleah, it seems we’ve stirred up our sweet tooth.  There’s a cute little bake shop down the street.  Shall we go?”

“Oh Yes, Olive.  It’s off to the bake shop we go.”

Next time, my house?”

“Yes, Olive…your house with no confusion and no Aunt Callida,” she said with a smile.