“A family meeting!” Pearl brightened. “Oh, I so hope Auntie Em brings her fried chicken.”
“Oh, me, too!” The twins hurried off, heads together, planning what they’d eat first.
Watching them go, Jade sighed. Sometimes being around her younger sisters made her feel really old, even though she only had twelve years on their seventeen.
Jade made three calls, which meant those people would make calls of their own until the entire family had been notified. Due to the urgency of the situation, the meeting would be that evening at seven. Unless life-threatening, all previously made plans would be canceled. The family meeting always took precedence.
Opal and Amber took to the kitchen, intent on cooking whatever culinary delights they’d decided to team up and make this time. Jade barely suppressed a shudder. The pair’s creations were legendary, and not in a good way.
Finally, as the hour neared seven, cars pulled up in front of Burnett House and parked. People brought food—some in ice chests, boxes or bags, or casserole dishes they carried in their hands. Redheads outnumbered brunettes and blondes since almost all of the Burnetts and their offspring were gingers. Jade’s flame-colored mane had turned silver immediately after taking on the mantle of Libby’s caregiver. At first, this change had horrified her, making her fret about appearing old. But in the years that had passed, she’d come to love her moonlight tresses. She knew once she passed that task on, her normal color would be restored and the new caregiver would immediately go gray, like what had happened when Amber passed the title on to her.
Wonderful smells drifted out of the formal dining room as Jade made her way downstairs. She could hear the low hum of conversation, which meant the family had already begun to gather.
Stepping into the room, she stopped. It looked like it always did—a packed room, with the long mahogany table groaning under the weight of food that would soon be demolished when everyone descended on it like sharks on a feeding frenzy.
Her eyes watered at the competing smells of the older ladies’ perfumes and the men’s cologne. Jade had tried once to get everyone to agree to attend fragrance free, but she’d been immediately shot down by the elders. Despite the fact that wolves had super-sensitive noses, those ladies loved their scents, so Jade had to let it go. Even though every time she hugged her aunt Agate, Jade’s eyes would water and she’d have to stifle a fit of coughing, the overabundance of scent thrived to this day. Jade countered this by trying to stand as far away from the worst offenders as possible.
Since she’d called the meeting, she would have to do the majority of the talking. She remembered the first family meeting at which she had to speak, immediately after her mother had announced her retirement and Jade had been assigned the chore of looking after Libby, the popular and mysterious lake shape-shifter who resided in Forestwood Lake. Libby despised the term monster. Jade couldn’t blame her.
Since then, Jade had grown accustomed to giving speeches. She found she did better with little or no preparation. Winging it seemed well received.
But first, everyone had to eat. A line had already started forming at one end of the table, where someone had placed two stacks of sturdy paper plates. She watched, amazed even though it was always the same, as relatives took their places at certain dishes, filling their plates as high as they could, before carrying the mound of food over to their respective seats at the table.
Jade waited until just about everyone had gotten what they wanted before going over to check out what remained. Waving at a couple of her cousins on the other side of the room, she stepped in line. As she eyed the half-empty pans of pasta salad and fried chicken, her stomach growled. She made herself a small plate, wondering which dish her mother and grandmother had made. Amber and Opal had been holed up in the kitchen for hours, shooing away anyone who attempted to enter. They’d refused to say what they were making, only claiming it would be the best surprise ever.
Jade only hoped it would be edible. Separately, her grandmother was a good cook, but Amber wasn’t. And together... They ended up competing, each adding just another pinch of something, and the end result always, without exception, turned out terrible.
What astounded Jade was that no one could tell from looking at it. No, it wasn’t until you took the first bite and gagged that you realized what had happened.
Ladling a little bit of everything on her plate, she tried to spot Amber and Opal’s latest concoction. Since she couldn’t, she knew she’d find out once she started to eat.
The desserts had been placed on a side table. There were the usual cakes and pies, and a beautiful peach cobbler. Jade knew which one she’d be having. That is, as long as her mother and grandmother hadn’t made it. Unfortunately, without tasting it, there was no way to tell.
Taking a seat next to her aunt Agate since it was the only one available, Jade hoped the overwhelming scent wouldn’t ruin her taste buds, and dug in. Every single morsel she put in her mouth tasted delicious. Which meant, she realized after she’d cleaned her plate, that one of the desserts would be awful. But which one?
She caught Aunt Agate’s eye, aware she—and just about everyone else in the room—was thinking the exact same thing.
A few people had already gingerly approached the dessert table, selecting two or three things to be on the safe side. Jade did the same, helping herself to a slice of chocolate cake and the peach cobbler. Praying neither of her choices would be the one, she took her seat and dug in. The chocolate cake tasted moist, with just the right amount of airy sweetness.
She polished that off and turned her attention to the cobbler. Just looking at the peach slices swimming in a syrupy glaze and the perfectly browned mixture of crumble made her mouth water. Someone should have taken a photograph of the entire thing when it had been undisturbed. Surely, this couldn’t be the dessert item Amber and Opal had managed to ruin, could it?
Jade glanced up to find Aunt Agate watching her, spoon poised over her own mound of cobbler.
“You first,” her aunt said, grinning.
Taking a deep breath, Jade plunged her spoon down, scooping up a good-size bite. It appeared juicy and moist, and the fragrant steam whet Jade’s appetite. She swallowed, then shoved her entire spoonful into her mouth.
Her taste buds exploded with flavor. Slowly chewing, she let out her breath and swallowed. “It’s good,” she began, letting her relief show in her voice. “I’m not sure who made it, but neither Mom nor Grandma was the cook.”
As she reached for another bite, her tongue began to burn. Eyeing her aunt, who was happily tucking in to her own helping of cobbler, Jade tried to blurt out a warning. Instead, she only managed a croak.
Tears filling her eyes, Jade grabbed her water glass and began chugging, too late to help Aunt Agate, who had just begun to feel the burn. What the heck had they put into that thing—peppers?
One glass of water wasn’t even close to enough. Jade jumped up, sprinting for the table where plastic cups had been stacked near water pitchers and ice. She filled two glasses, drinking one down and refilling it, before carrying them back to the table. Handing one to her aunt, she watched while the older woman drained hers before giving her the second.
“Oh, my,” Aunt Agate finally gasped. “Guess we know who made that, after all.”
All around the room, people were digging into the gorgeous cobbler. “It seems we never learn,” Jade commented, her voice as dry as her still-burning throat. All around her, people gasped, reaching for their water glasses and shooting murderous looks at the oblivious pair of cooks, who continued to eat and chat happily.
Finally, Jade figured everyone had eaten—and suffered—enough. Taking a deep breath, she tapped her fork on her water glass for attention. “As I’m sure most of you know,” she began, well aware how fast gossip traveled