Page 53 - San Diego Woman Magazine

WRITER ' S SPO TLIGHT

from Des Moines, my hometown. I con- “Mommy,” the child says, “Can I get Cybill is speechless, tears now flow-
fide that this will be my first Thanksgiv- a real birthday cake for my birthday? ing from her shining eyes. I put my arm
ing away from home and that I hope to Please?” around her to steady her, even as she sits
make friends in this new place soon. “I’m so sorry, honey, but we can’t on her custom-made walker.
“Well, Kate,” she says, beginning afford it.” “Why don’t we all go sit at that bistro
to thaw, “I’d say you just made a new “But Mommy, Pepper had a real table in the corner?” I suggest, sensing
friend. Me.” She smiles a sad little smile. birthday cake with icing and her name on that a bond has been formed enveloping
Cybill opens up, telling me she’s it, a real pretty birthday cake. And so did Cybill, the young mother, Matilda, and
been a widow now going on eighteen Emma!” me.
years, albeit a wealthy one. She lives “I know, honey. I’m sorry. We’ll bake We sit and talk. We learn the blond
in a lovely home in La Jolla, the same oatmeal cookies instead, okay?” woman is Maggie Somers. She and Matil-
home she has lived in since she and her “But I never had a real birthday cake! da live in Navy housing in Point Loma.
husband purchased it in the 1950s, when Never! It’s not fair!” They miss their husband—and daddy—
she was expecting Matilda. Embarrassed, the woman takes her who is on a submarine somewhere in the
I think how strangely close I have daughter’s hand, holding her bag of bread Pacific Ocean and won’t be coming home
become with Cybill McLintock. How with her other hand. “Let’s go, honey,” she until February.
time has flown in the past half hour or says. Maggie invites Cybill and me to
so as I’ve been conversing with her. Sur- Cybill has been watching this ex- Thanksgiving dinner at her apartment. It
prisingly, she has melted my heart. change with a look of annoyance. But now, will be just the four of us; neither Maggie
The clerk calls ticket number fif- I see something in her emerald eyes, a nor her Alabama relatives can afford the
ty-two; it’s Cybill’s turn. The clerk smiles softening. trip to be together. We exchange contact
at the old lady as she presents her with “Wait!” she calls to the blond woman. information.
the birthday cake, tucked neatly inside “You forgot something!” Cybill excuses herself to get an-
the pink bakery box. Meanwhile, my ticket number has other number. She has volunteered to
“Open the box,” Cybill orders. “I been called twice, and I rush over to the bring dessert. While we wait for Cybill’s
want to inspect the cake.” counter, distracted. number to be called, I volunteer to bring
The clerk grabs a knife and cuts “Your order?” inquires the clerk be- turkey, cranberry sauce, salad, and ba-
through the tape that seals the pink box hind the counter. guettes. Maggie is visibly relieved at our
on either end. I watch as she opens the “Uh, two baguettes, please, and a offers.
box, revealing a beautiful cake replete half-dozen onion bagels.” We sit and talk and laugh as if we are
with strawberries on a sea of white frost- As she bags my bread, I am mesmer- old friends. I feel so much more at home
ing, topped with a fresh cherry. In large ized by what is now transpiring. than I did when I first entered the Sweet
scarlet print it says, “Happy Birthday, “I just realized I have a birthday cake I Dreams Bake Shop.
Matilda.” don’t need,” I hear Cybill telling the wom- Cybill’s number is announced, and
“Excellent,” Cybill announces, satis- an. “Do you have any use for it?” she scoots over to the counter, smiling.
fied. She signs her check, hands it to the “Oh, that’s so thoughtful of you, but I She calls, “Kate! I think I’ll need some
clerk, and carefully picks up the pretty couldn’t afford it. We’re fine, thank you.” help with my package!”
pink box. “Please accept my gift,” Cybill insists. I rush over to help her as she orders
“Have a lovely day,” says the clerk. I have already swiped my credit card, chocolate chip cookies, pumpkin pie,
Then she calls the next customer, the taken my bag of bread, and turned around. brioche, and croissants. I carry the heavy
bearer of ticket number fifty-three. I am now facing the two women. bag of goodies back to the bistro table as
A pretty, blond woman in her late The little girl looks hopeful. “Please, Cybill tells Maggie and Matilda about our
twenties, around my age, approaches the Mommy?” upcoming Thanksgiving dessert. Matilda
counter. She is wearing a faded blue cot- The blond woman smiles and accepts says that Thanksgiving will also be her
ton dress. She smiles politely at Cybill as the birthday cake, thanks Cybill, and turns sixth birthday, and we are all invited to
she hands her ticket to the clerk. to leave. The little girl looks up at her her party.
“Your order?” mother. “Mommy, please let me see my Matilda eyes Cybill. “Will you be my
“How much for two loaves of whole birthday cake!” great-granny? Emma and Pepper have
wheat bread?” the young woman asks. “Okay, honey,” her mother agrees, great-grannies, but I don’t. I wish I did,”
“Five dollars.” opening the box, still unsealed from she confides.
The woman takes a small plastic Cybill’s inspection. Cybill is still watching, “Absolutely!” says Cybill. “And you
wallet out of her bag. She finds four sin- tears in her eyes. The young mother bends will be my sweet great-granddaughter,
gles, three quarters, a couple of dimes, down to show her daughter. They both Matilda.”
and a nickel. As she is about to pay, I no- stare at the cake in disbelief. We all hug and laugh and look for-
tice a little girl, who has been eyeing the “Mommy, look! It says, ‘Happy Birth- ward to the next day, and to many happy
display case goodies, tug on the woman’s day, Matilda’ on it!” The child turns to days of thanks to come.
dress. Cybill. “How did you know my name?”

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