Savannah knew that she had to either take some teacakes home with her or eat them now; otherwise, Granny would be upset with her.
When Savannah arrived in Granny’s empty kitchen, she noticed she caught her in the middle of cooking and canning potatoes from her garden. On the table were bundles of collard greens, mustard greens and freshly picked orange chili peppers for Sunday dinner.
Two large pots of water were at a rolling boil, preparing to sanitize canning jars, and above the kitchen island, a few dozen bundles of herbs were hanging upside down to dry with the help of fresh air from the open kitchen backdoor.
As Savannah walked past the large steaming pots on the stove, she ducked underneath the sweet-smelling lavender hanging above her head and made her way to Granny’s snack jars. Making sure to let Granny know of her presence by loudly clanging the lid to the large glass snack jar, Savannah grabbed two small teacakes with one of Granny’s cloth napkins.
Every cloth napkin at Granny’s house was made from old shirts or dresses from all the grandkids in the family. Savannah remembered her mother taking her into this kitchen when she was just five years old and telling her that “these fancy napkins were made from your christening gown.”
Before walking away from the jar, Savannah grabbed one more teacake to eat in the kitchen before closing the jar. The taste of dried lemons from granny’s tree made these teacakes superior and above anyone else’s lemon extract substitute. Every year in the hotter months, Granny reminded Savannah that she had taught herself to make teacakes as a child and that it was time for her to do the same.
As a child, Granny said she imagined herself having the biggest family while perfecting her famous teacake recipe. Rumors circulated during Granny’s grade school years suggesting that she was strange. People claimed that she appeared to be talking to someone else while making her teacakes. This rumor was then changed to people saying she was odd and talked to herself. This chatter died down in her teens after the word got out about how delicious her teacakes were.
Savannah, savoring the last bite of her first teacake, entered Granny’s room holding her treats with napkins made from her childhood gown.
The bedroom felt like home, yet it was busy and chaotic. The room was filled with unfinished projects Granny had started and might never finish. Books, magazines, newspapers, and more were all stacked on top of an old wooden chair in front of the singular small window in the room. This window, though blocked by the mountain of items on the chair, let in just enough light and a view of any stray cats in Granny’s garden.
Two candles were lit on the only clear surface in the bedroom, and one tiny homemade incense cone burned filling the room with a blend of soft, musky herbal smoke.
Savannah breathed for what felt like the first time in weeks and was greeted by Granny’s deep yet warm voice.
Vannah my baby, how are you, doll?
Part Two To Be Continued…