Read Probable Impossibilities Page 26


  Chapter 19

  Saturday morning started out with gloomy clouds and heavy fog. I responded by rolling over and going back to sleep.

  When I finally did crawl out of bed, the weather had deteriorated to a cold, drizzly rain. I spent the day doing homework and watching television.

  By evening I was stir crazy from being shut up in the house all day. I stared out the window watching the street lights come on and saw Gen running through the raindrops. I met her at the door. Amazingly she wasn’t wet.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Dad’s watching the news.”

  “Any sign of George on the net?”

  She shook her head. “None. I checked all day. Do you think Bertram managed to delete him after all?”

  “With us right there watching? I don’t think so. Besides, I think Bertram’s coming around.”

  “Yeah right,” she said.

  I opened my mouth. Before I could say anything, the front door burst open and Desiree swept in. She didn’t look wet either.

  “Why so glum, kiddies?” she said. Without waiting for an answer she continued. “I have just the thing. Gather the family and let’s watch the news.”

  She danced past us into the kitchen.

  Gen sighed. “I could watch the news at home.”

  “Must be something good,” I said.

  “Probably a cooking segment on how to make asparagus edible.”

  Des and Nate came from the kitchen carrying Dad’s laptop.

  “Be careful with that!” Dad said. “That’s my life’s work…”

  Des laughed. “I'm holding it ransom. Come watch this news segment and I’ll return it safely.”

  Nate shooed us into the living room. Mom slid over to make room for Dad on the sofa. Gen and I took up positions on the floor and Des grabbed the remote.

  She flipped through the stations and stopped on the local news. “Quiet everyone,” she said. “You’re about to see history in the making.” She turned up the volume.

  Sally, the reporter, smiled at us from behind a countertop.

  “Tonight we have the sweet story of one of our very own local college students who is destined for success.”

  The view widened and we all gasped as an elated Desiree smiled at us from the TV. Everyone started talking at once.

  “Quiet!” Nate shouted. “Let’s watch the piece.”

  The TV Des set a tier of decorated cupcakes on the counter. Sally slowly turned the display. “These look delicious,” she said. “What flavors are they?”

  Des began naming them. “Indian Corn Spice, Pumpkin Wood, Cranberry Carmel Pine Nut, and Maple Squash.”

  “My they don’t sound like your typical pastry flavors.”

  “That’s the idea,” Des said laughing. “Would you like to try one?”

  Sally chose one and took a bite. “Yumm. This is outrageously good. Mike,” she called. “You must come and try these.”

  Mike stepped into the picture and began working his way through the cupcakes mumbling his appreciation through the crumbs.

  Sally looked at the audience. “I’m sorry we can’t share these delicious pastries with you. But we are happy to tell you that these delightful taste treats have earned Desiree a university scholarship for further study in culinary cuisine.”

  Mike reached for the last cupcake but Sally snatched it up first. “We have a couple of these recipes posted on our webpage that you can try. Just click on the Baking with Desiree link.”

  “That’s right, Sally,” Mike said. He reached for the cupcake, but she held it out of reach.

  “We’re sure that when she graduates her creations will captivate the world,” Sally said. Turning her back to Mike she slowly took a big bite of the cupcake.

  The show broke for a commercial. Des clicked off the TV, and our living room erupted into wild cheering and applause. Nate swung Desiree around in a hug, scattering magazines off the end table and toppling the lamp. I caught it just inches from the floor.

  When the chaos finally subsided Dad said, “How did they discover your baking skills?”

  Desiree laughed. “They said they were barraged by e-mails from people who had seen the recipes online. Someone recognized my picture and they tracked me down.”

  “George,” Gen said softly.

  Des smiled at her. “So it would seem.”