Julia's Chocolates by Cathy Lamb

Author:Cathy Lamb
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2007-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

Lara was practically shaking in her shoes as we all trooped up the stairs to her attic after dinner. Aunt Lydia had made lasagna with garlic to kill off any excess hormones, Caroline had brought two delectable-looking salads, Katie had come a little later, after dropping the kids off at a sitter’s. She brought cheese sticks as appetizers.

“I’ve never been to your attic before,” Caroline said, her voice gentle and calm, her eye only twitching a bit tonight. “I’m looking forward to seeing your paintings.”

“Me neither,” said Katie. “I didn’t even know you had an attic.”

I looked closely at Katie. She didn’t appear pale and exhausted tonight. In fact, she looked much better, her smile didn’t have that tense, I-am-hanging-on-to-dear-life-with-my-finger-nails look.

Lara looked rather ill, and I felt bad for convincing her we should have Psychic Night in her attic, but her art was incredible, and my gut told me that this was what she needed: outside approval of her art.

Lara pushed opened the door, then stepped inside. I followed her, keeping a close eye on Aunt Lydia’s, Caroline’s, and Katie’s expressions.

I wasn’t disappointed.

Their mouths dropped. Their eyes widened. They made I-can’t-believe-this sounds in their throats. The bag that Caroline had brought upstairs for the psychic part of Your Hormones And You: Taking Over, Taking Cover, Taking Charge fell from her hands. No one noticed.

The silence was so loud, if a mouse had burped, we would have heard it.

“Oh my,” Katie said, shaking her head as she walked with great caution to one of Lara’s paintings, a portrait of a woman spread-eagled in the middle of a field, wearing only an apron, storm clouds churning above her. Tiny fabric squares had been glued to the canvas to form the apron.

“Good God!” Aunt Lydia declared, staring at a painting with two women facing each other, their profiles identical except a snake wrapped around the neck of one, a flower chain around the other. Lara had used dried flowers for the chain and costume jewelry for the women’s earrings.

“Incredible,” Caroline whispered, as she stared at a painting of a woman holding a bird’s nest. The woman’s halter was made of newspaper clippings of horrible natural disasters that had occurred. Inside the twigs of the nest Lara had painted tiny ladybugs and worms and butterflies and birds.

Caroline toured the room, then flipped through stacked canvasses. When she got to the one of the naked man wrapped around a sunflower, she smiled, nodded.

Lara became noticeably less tense minute by minute as we exclaimed over her paintings and studied the murals with awe. An hour later I went and got the Double Chocolate Snowball, and we sat down to dessert, right in the middle of the attic.

“Damn, but you’re good, Lara,” Aunt Lydia said, shaking her head in wonderment. “Damn, but you’re good.”

Katie nodded. “Damn good.”

Caroline smiled. Winked.

We poured ourselves more wine and offered a toast to Lara.

She cried.

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