Starting Over On Blackberry Lane

Another blink, followed by a cautious “Oh.”

“It’s okay,” Griffin assured her. “We were sort of growing apart.”

“Well, better to be sure,” Beth said diplomatically.

That was what her mom had said when Griffin called her after Steve left, along with statements like “We never thought he was good enough for you” and “You can always move back home.” Yes, that would spell success.

At least they hadn’t spent a lot on the wedding. It was going to be in her parents’ backyard and she’d planned to wear her grandmother’s bridal gown. Maybe someday she’d get to.

Griffin nodded, then moved on. “These look great,” she said, checking out the batch of scones fresh out of the oven and sitting all golden brown and lovely on their cooling rack. Good enough to eat. Which was why she never had breakfast before coming over to Beth’s. Somehow she always ended up eating.

“I hope you can find a hero somewhere in this batch,” Beth said, using the new term she’d learned from Griffin.

A hero was the one picture-perfect food that would wind up being the final shot. They all looked delicious, but only three made the cut.

“Is that enough?” Beth asked. “I can bake more.”

“No, this will be fine.”

“I had Mark help me move the kitchen table,” Beth said. The vintage red Formica table her family had used for years had been moved aside for this shoot, and a small white oak one that she’d found at Stacy Thomas’s shop, Timeless Treasures, was now placed in front of the window. The light was ideal.

“I think for this shot we won’t use the tablecloth or the cake stand,” Griffin said.

“What about the apples?” Beth asked.

Griffin didn’t want to offend Beth. After all, it was her cookbook. Still... “I’m a little worried they’ll distract from the perfection of the scone.”

Beth shrugged, unoffended. “No problem. I’m sure I can find something to do with them.”

Griffin smiled. Beth was so easy to work with, so easy to please. “Did you say you had some cloth dinner napkins?”

“Oh, you’re going to put them right on the napkins?”

“It’ll look really pretty,” Griffin said. “And what if we took a bite out of one?”

Beth smiled. “Fun! You want to do the honors?”

Beth was always tempting her with fabulous goodies, and it was hard to stay strong. Sugar and carbs were like crack to her. “How about if you do it?”

Beth shook her head. “Has anyone told you recently that you’d blow away in a stiff wind?”

“I don’t think there’s any danger of that.”

“You need fattening up.”

She’d been there, done that. “If I have even one bite, I’ll eat the whole batch, and then we won’t get our picture,” Griffin said with a smile.

“Okay. For now I’ll let you off the hook, but you need to let me send a couple of these home with you.”

No doubt about it. Beth was a food pusher. Griffin would take one back to the house just to placate her.

Back to the house. Interesting language. Beth had said home and Griffin had thought house. Hmm.

She tried to ignore that random thought and got busy choosing from among the assortment of napkins Beth produced.

Food photography styles were ever changing. They shifted from an overhead perspective to mimic the way a person usually saw her food to being shot with romantic lighting and props to extremely simple, clean and natural with few props, and even going messy, allowing crumbs or dribbles to sneak into a shot. There would be no crumbs allowed today, but Griffin did like the idea of having one scone with a bite missing, as if someone had been unable to resist it.

An hour later they had their picture, the scones cuddled together on top of a red plaid cloth napkin.

“I love it,” Beth said. Which was what she’d said about everything Griffin had done so far. It was hugely gratifying.

“Now, why don’t I put on some water for tea and we’ll have a bite of one that didn’t make the cut.”

Just a bite, Griffin decided, and helped Beth move her regular kitchen table back in place. Five minutes later they were seated with mugs of steaming tea and little plates, each bearing an apple scone.

Griffin sampled hers and was sure she’d died and gone to carb heaven. “This is amazing.”

Beth smiled. “My mom was amazing.”

“So are you,” Griffin told her. “I don’t know how you do it, but your house has this great vibe. I feel so at home here.”

“Good. That’s the goal, to make people feel at home when they come over. Oh, before I forget...” She left the room to return a moment later with a small box wrapped in pink paper and tied with a satiny white ribbon. “Your present.”

“But I’m not—”

“You can use this no matter what,” Beth said, nudging it forward.

Feeling guilty but knowing Beth wouldn’t let her refuse, Griffin opened it. Inside, nestled in pink tissue paper, were two china cups and saucers; one set was gold trimmed and decorated with pink roses, while the other had lilies of the valley on the cup and a pale green saucer.

“They’re lovely,” Griffin said.

“My mother always said things taste so much better when they’re served in something pretty.”

“They were your mother’s? Then I can’t...” Surely Mia Wright, Beth’s niece by marriage, would want them.

“No. I found these at Timeless Treasures when I bought the table. I know most of us are more casual these days, but sometimes it’s fun to enjoy a little elegance. And even though there’s only one of you right now, you can still have a girlfriend over and use them.”

“Thank you so much. I will,” Griffin said.

In addition to the cups and saucers, Beth did, indeed, send her home with scones. When she got back to the house, she tossed the fat bombs before she could be tempted to inhale them. Then she gave the teacups a special place in the kitchen cupboard, which was full of cheap dishes and bits and pieces her mom had given her.

“I promise I’ll feature you in a picture somehow,” she murmured as she shut the cupboard door.

She put on a thick sweater, made herself a cup of tea in her favorite mug, then wandered out onto her back porch and plopped down on the steps. Steve had been promising to fix that broken one since last August.

Rain clouds were gathering and now they started spitting on her. A good day to edit some pictures on her computer. With a sigh she went back inside.

She spent the rest of the day working on her pictures, then decided to write something for the blog.