She was gone when Ruthie and Happy returned from their short walk. The only evidences of her visit were her brownies baking in the oven, and a note on the kitchen table weighted down by a bottle of wine. Ruthie walked over to the table and lifted the bottle to read the note. It was written on a borrowed piece of Annie's stationery and in juvenile, scrawling penmanship, it read:
Dearest Ruthie,
Be a doll and take those brownies out of the oven at exactly 10:30. Be careful not to burn yourself! Set the brownies on the counter and let them cool for 15 minutes. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT SO PAY ATTENTION: They are magic brownies, but the magic will only work if the right people eat the right brownies. Follow this color code EXACTLY:
Green pan = brownies for you and the twinsYellow pan = brownies for Lucy and Simon
Orange pan = brownies for your father
Red pan = brownies for your mother
NO ONE ELSE IS ALLOWED TO EAT MY MAGIC BROWNIES!!!
Please destroy this note as soon as you have finished reading it. Also don't tell anyone about it, because the magic brownies only work when people don't know they're magic.
Love,
Gabrielle
P.S. The wine is for your father.
Ruthie stared at the note and scratched her head. Magic brownies? What did that mean? Was Gabrielle some kind of witch? Would it really be safe to eat bewitched brownies? Then again, Gabrielle's spaghetti had been the best that the Camdens had ever tasted. Maybe her magic would make the brownies taste just as good.
A sense of apprehension gnawed at Ruthie's subconscious and told her something didn't feel right about the whole situation, but the prospect of eating magic brownies was too enticing for her to pass up. So she took a saucer from a kitchen cabinet and pulled a book of matches from a drawer. Then she placed each item on the kitchen table, crumpled Gabrielle's note, set it in the saucer, struck a match, and lit the paper. In a matter of seconds, the note had been reduced to a pile of ashes. Ruthie then dumped the saucer's contents into the trash, placed the dirty saucer in the dishwasher, and climbed the stairs up toward her room. As she climbed, she set her digital watch to alarm at precisely 10:30 AM.
***
Simon Camden's alarm had gone off hours ago, but still he lay in bed knowing he should have gotten up by now. He should have, but he hadn't, for there were a million good reasons not to get out of bed. It was so comfortable and warm and quiet. There were no responsibilities there, no squawking girlfriends, no nosy parents and siblings, no homework, no part-time jobs, no dogs to walk, nor twins to feed. Just his long-neglected friend: sweet, silent sleep.
And so Simon lay there for the majority of that Saturday morning, subtly drifting in and out of consciousness, until a pleasant and familiar fragrance wafted its way up toward his nostrils. He recognized it instantly: brownies. Mom had used to bake them all the time, but lately, not so much. Simon deeply inhaled the aroma, and it had a waking effect on him much like the smell of brewing coffee. He decided it was finally time to get up, so he forced his feet onto the floor and slogged toward the bathroom to take a refreshing shower.
***
Eric Camden had just finished his shower and begun to towel off when his wife burst into the bathroom, pulled down her pants, and sat on the toilet to pee.
Startled and embarrassed, Eric sputtered, "Annie, couldn't you have waited until I was done drying off, or at the very least knocked before coming in here? Or else couldn't you have used the bathroom down the hall?"
"Well I would have used the other bathroom, but Simon's taking a shower," she answered above the background tinkle rising from the bowl below her. Eric continued to stare at her so she added, "Oh come on, Eric, this isn't anything you haven't seen before."
Seeing that Annie was firmly ensconced on the toilet, Eric abandoned his ill-fated desire for any remaining boundaries of privacy between the two of them and defeatedly resumed toweling himself. As he toweled his bottom, he exposed himself to his wife of many years. At the sight of his manhood, Annie's eyes began to twinkle. "Oh, Eric," she smiled seductively. "Guess what I'm thinking about right now?"
"Probably the exact opposite of what I'm thinking," Eric answered off-puttingly. Seeing his wife's disappointed pout, he continued, "Look, Annie, you know I love you. It's just that…well, you know. Lately, my…um, my drive hasn't been where it used to be before the surgery."
Annie's pout grew more sullen as she wiped and said, "Actually, your drive hasn't been where it used to be since I hit The Change."
Without denying the accusation, Eric said, "Sorry. But right now I just want to get dressed and talk to Gabrielle to find out why she's here."
"Ha! Good luck," said Annie as she pulled up her pants and flushed. "That woman's more cryptic than the Riddler. Although she looks more like the Joker." Annie chuckled at her own joke, but Eric ignored her and walked over to the closet to pick a shirt.
***
Lucy Camden looked at her shirt disapprovingly in the mirror. "No, no, no! This one won't do either!"
"What are you doing?" her sister Ruthie asked her from across their bedroom.
"I'm trying to pick out a shirt for my date with Kevin tonight. He's taking Roxanne and me to the movies, and I want to wear something hot so that he'll notice me instead of Roxanne."
"He's taking you on a date with his partner?" Ruthie asked incredulously.
"Yes, he's trying to get Roxanne and me to be friends."
"Why? You two hate each other."
"I wouldn't use the word hate. I would just say that I dislike her. Intensely. But Kevin says that if I can't accept her as his partner at work, then he can't accept me as his partner in life."
Ruthie rolled her eyes so blatantly that Lucy could see her doing it in the mirror from all the way across the room.
"What?" Lucy spun around and asked her irritatedly.
"Look, I know the guy is a hunk and everything, but why do you let him boss you around so much?"
"He's not bossing me around. We're making compromises and sacrifices. That's what people do in a relationship."
"Well, what sacrifices has he made for you?" Ruthie asked.
"Um, for starters, he moved all the way out here from Buffalo just to be with me. That was no small life change for him," Lucy answered snidely.
"Well are you going to let him hold it over your head for the rest of your life?" Ruthie asked.
Lucy found herself without a comeback, so she said dismissively, "You don't know a thing about love. You wouldn't understand." Then she turned her back on Ruthie to face the mirror again.
Sensing that their conversation was over for the moment, Ruthie checked her watch. 10:15. Only fifteen minutes until she would have to go downstairs to remove the magic brownies from the oven.