So I fretted and baked.
“It’s all right. Now, let’s see. I think I forgot to tell you.” My momma waved her hands in the air excitedly. “Well, here it is: Jacqueline Freeman is a talent agent in New York City—like I just said—and she got a call out of the blue from the Chiquita Banana folks about you. She has a relationship with the Kraft food people and—well, never mind. That’s not important.”
I was trying to follow but having difficulty making sense of her disjointed explanation. “So, some lady in New York—”
“Jacqueline Freeman, talent agent extraordinaire.”
“Ms. Freeman got a call from the people at Chiquita Banana about me?”
“That’s right.”
“Why would they call her?”
“Because that’s how this stuff works.”
“What stuff? Why did they call at all?”
“Isn’t it obvious? They want you to be their spokesperson. They want you in commercials, you and your cakes.” She clapped her hands together and addressed her next statement to my father. “Oh, this is going to make things so much easier with the lodge investors. Once they find out about this, the deal is as good as done. Lord, this takes a load off my mind.”
Meanwhile, my stomach churned. I felt like I was going to be sick.
“Commercials?” I asked weakly.
“That’s right. TV commercials to start, and Jacqueline mentioned a cooking show in the future. But you’d begin with some guest spots on the Food Network first. Jennifer, I don’t think I need to tell you how important this is, baby. This is it, this is what we’ve been hoping for.”
My heart thumped sluggishly between my ears before taking off at a gallop. The room tilted. I broke out into a sweat. My throat and mouth were as dry as a desert.
TV? Cooking show?
“Jenn?” My momma said, she sounded far away. “Honey, are you okay?”
I don’t want this. I don’t want this.
“I don’t . . . can I . . .” I tried to swallow but I couldn’t. The room was spinning. “Can I have some water?”
“Baby girl, you don’t look so good.”
Blackness creeped in at the edges of my vision and I flattened my palms on the top of the table for balance. It was too late.
The last thing I saw before succumbing to the darkness was my mother’s face hovering over me, frantic with worry.
***
I woke up in an ambulance.
At the ER in Knoxville, they did tons of tests. The doctors finally decided I’d suffered from dehydration and exhaustion. Fluids were administered and I was sent home with strict orders to rest. By the time I left the hospital I felt more like a pin cushion than a person, and I’d decided what to do about Cletus Winston.
When my brother left home to join the army years ago, I moved into his old room even though it was smaller than mine. My mother didn’t understand why I wanted the smaller room on the first floor that had a window overlooking the porch when I could have the larger room on the second floor with a window overlooking the mountains.
She didn’t understand I needed an escape hatch. I didn’t make a habit of sneaking out. I’d only done it twice before and I made sure I wouldn’t be caught. But just knowing I could leave, if I wanted to, made the reality of each day feel less overwhelming.
I liked that I could, at any time, pack a bag and disappear. I liked knowing I could vanish, leave onerous expectations behind. I would never do it, I could never live with myself if I hurt my parents that way—especially my momma—but I liked knowing I could.
The first time I snuck out was when I was seventeen. A pen pal of mine was in Knoxville and my father refused to let me see him. Determined, I’d climbed out the window, donned a baseball hat, and met Oliver Müller and his parents at Daisy’s Nut house for decaf coffee and day-old pie. Oliver and his family were really nice. He was just one year older than me and has since gone to the University of Berlin and graduated with a degree in electrical engineering.
The second time I’d been twenty. An artist I liked had been playing a concert in Knoxville and my momma didn’t want me to go. She said it was too close to the state fair baking competition. Determined, I’d used the window again, borrowed my momma’s car, and went to the concert all on my own and had THE BEST time. I hadn’t been afraid. I’d wanted to see that concert and so I went.
Tonight I was using my escape hatch to drive over to the Winston place and confront Cletus Winston.
I was terrified.
But I was determined.