Our heads bumped slightly as we surveyed my grandmother’s meticulous accounting. There were names and dollar amounts and asterisks with the wordOweand cross-throughs with the wordPaid.
And the money.
“Your grandma had a side gig selling traveling foods,” Gabriella declared.
“I ain’t mad at her,” I said. “I could use a side gig right now.”
“We could put her money toward the oven,” Gabriella suggested.
“I don’t know…” Was that the best use of these precious dollar bills?
“She obviously believed in financial independence,” Gabriella lobbied.
“Yes, but… I just need a minute to process.”
My housemate nodded. Impatiently. As though she wanted me to be past the moment already.
“So…tomorrow?”
“Gabriella. This”—I pointed at our new treasure—“changes things. This house…this money…”
“Right! What if she’s hiddenmoremoney all over the place?”
Not exactly what I had mind, but it was a possibility.
“Let’s just wait a minute.”
Her shoulders slumped with resignation. “I think she would have wanted you to use it for whatever you need. And don’t I get a vote? Am I not the person responsible for this problem anyway?”
We shared humorous sighs.
“We did a good thing today,” I told her.
“We did, huh, Ms. Joyce?”
With that, Gabriella wrapped me up in a bear hug that was quickly interrupted by Elijah stomping into the house.
“I’m hungry!” he announced.
“What else is new?” Gabriella teased, and I joined in her laughter.
Chapter 10
Elijah, Gabriella’s assistant for the morning, left the house with her to head to the breakfast contest. Gabriella had worked hard to perfect her dish with only a stove and a griddle, which was probably just as well, since they’d be cooking outside.
“What kind of breakfast cooking contest takes place on a lawn, anyway?” I’d drilled her the night before. We were packing her nonperishables in boxes—cinnamon, sugar, honey, pepper.
“The history of this contest goes back to the pioneer days. Open fire,” Gabriella informed me.
“Hmph. I guess.”
When I arrived about an hour later, the town square was alive with excitement as the breakfast cook-off commenced. Colorful streamers danced in the breeze while cheerful chatter filled the air. The mouthwatering aroma of sizzling bacon, sweet syrup, and warm spices enveloped me as I approached Gabriella’s tent.
Gabriella greeted me from behind her table, her eyes shining with both joy and anxiety. “You made it!”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I tried to sound upbeat despite my own nerves.
“Grandma, we made three batches, and they’re gone already!”
