“The Diva’s been quite busy making enemies since she got to town, hasn’t she?” Lindy said, packing up the game pieces. “I hear she raised quite a ruckus at Food Lion because they don’t carry super-fine sugar.”
James nodded. “You can add Megan and Amelia Flowers to the growing list of folks who will be happy to see her go back to New York. And I can’t say that I’m one of her fans either. I’ll be quite relieved to drop her off at the curb at Dulles after the wedding.”
“Okay, folks, it’s time for the news.” Bennett clapped his hands, returned his playing piece to the game box, and turned on his small television set with the rather grainy screen. “We’ve got sugar-free caramel pudding and Cool Whip for dessert. So grab a spoon and eat up. By the time you’ve heard Dr. Ruth speak, you’ll all want to become her clients.”
The image on the television screen morphed from an orange tabby cat gulping down a bowl of Meow Mix to an image of a somber-faced anchorman. The news anchor, who had shellacked hair and a subtle tan, related the details of a convenience store robbery that had occurred shortly after dark that same day in the outskirts of Charlottesville.
“Tony Kim, the clerk on duty this evening,” the anchorman intoned, “did not possess keys to the safe and could only offer the assailant the cash from his register. Apparently, two hundred dollars was not enough to appease the armed robber, and he demanded wallets and jewelry from each one of the store’s customers.”
The camera switched from the anchorman’s face to a scene of police cars with flashing lights parked helter-skelter around the perimeter of the small gas station. Members of Charlottesville’s police force gesticulated and conversed with deputies from the local Sheriff’s Department. James felt that their behavior seemed a bit theatrical due to the presence of the television crews and decided to ask Lucy if she agreed, but when he glanced over at her and noted the rapt attention she was giving to the broadcast, he decided to keep quiet.
After providing a teaser on the weekend weather as well as the outcome of the men’s basketball game between rivals Virginia and Virginia Tech, the camera zoomed out in order to show a wide-angle view of the entire news desk. At this point, the anchorwoman arched her eyebrows and said, “And things heated up in the town of New Market today. The life of a well-known chef, television star, and author was threatened after she appeared on our own CBS morning show. Stay tuned for the surprising events that were captured on film by one of our crew members.”
As James and his friends sat in stunned silence, the Aflac duck flew on screen and jumped in the driver’s seat of a taxi cab, planning to take over the injured driver’s fares and save his family from certain starvation.
“I can’t stand it!” Lucy grabbed James’s arm, causing him to overturn his spoonful of caramel pudding onto the front of his sweater. “What happened this morning? Don’t leave us hanging like this!”
James shook his head dumbly. “Honestly, I have no idea.” He protested. “No one called me at work and the house was empty when I got done with lifting weights, so I’m as mystified as you are.” He flexed his arm and poked his sore bicep, hoping Lucy would be impressed, but she had already returned her attention to the TV.
The Aflac commercial was followed by a lengthy ad expounding the myriad virtues of Chrysler’s new minivan. A pair of shiny-haired, white-toothed children sat in the back seat, laughing as they watched the Cartoon Network on their Sirius satellite television system while an unusually happy-looking teenage boy played video games using the screen above the third row of seats. In the front, the smug, slim, and casually dressed parents gazed proudly at their progeny in the rearview mirror and exchanged deeply contented grins. At the end of the ad, the family disembarked from their cool car and prepared to share a picnic lunch on a scenic overlook near the ocean.
“Those parents are gonna shove all three kids off that cliff,” Lindy declared. “That’s why they’re smiling.”
“I thought it was because all of their cup holders were filled with little bottles of whiskey,” Bennett remarked, and then groaned as a weight loss commercial featuring Special K cereal droned on and on. “If that woman in the red dress pivots in front of that mirror one more time, I’m gonna bludgeon her with the cereal box. I’m tired of all these damn ads!”
“Me too,” Gillian agreed. “Our culture is simply barraged with capitalistic messages. That’s why I prefer to record all of my favorite shows from the National Geographic Channel and fast forward the steady stream of ‘buy-me’s’! It’s very empowering.”
“Shhhh,” Lucy hissed. “They’re finally coming back on!”
“Earlier today on CBS’s Good Morning Virginia show there was a face-off between area nutritionist Ruth Wilkins and celebrity chef Madame Paulette Martine, also known as the Diva of Dough.” The anchorwoman began her story by facing the camera with a stoic expression. “The focus of this morning’s show was on opposing positions regarding Americans’ tendency to overindulge on rich foods between Thanksgiving and New Year’s.
“Ms. Wilkins began the Good Morning segment by providing pointers on how to avoid the curse of holiday weight gain. Then Madame Martine allowed several members of our studio audience to sample her famous cakes. Here’s a taste of what those lucky few experienced.”
The screen switched to a setting familiar to all of the supper club members. The segment had been filmed at Milla’s culinary school. Paulette, wearing an apron covered with forest green fleurs-de-lis, stood proudly behind three gorgeous cakes resting upon glass pedestals. She swept her hand over Milla’s butcher block as though trace particles of sugar or flour lingered on the polished surface.
“These cakes are the perfect accompaniments for the season,” Paulette began, her voice clear and authoritative, yet strangely soft and melodic as well. “The first is a praline pecan bundt cake. This is an easy cake to create, and it’s a wonderful gift to take to a neighbor who’s feeling unwell, to a holiday potluck party, or even to the school bake sale. The cake’s buttery center is delectably moist and the praline icing simply cascades over the hills and ridges created by the mold. Lastly, the rim is covered by toasted and candied pecans. The result is that this dessert is just as easy on the eye as it is to eat!”
The host, a tall woman wearing a red suit, took a small bite of the praline pecan cake. “Delicious!” she exclaimed, and then she asked Ruth, “In your opinion, how many calories are in a single slice?”
“About one thousand,” Ruth answered calmly.
“One thousand? That’s nothing!” Paulette flicked a dishtowel in dismissal. “A slice of this cake is worth every calorie! Remember, my fellow food lovers, real food tastes like real food. It might contain fat and calories and butter and cream, but you shouldn’t put anything less onto your tongue!” Paulette theatrically threw her arms out wide. “This is a season of celebration! We should be enjoying this special time with our loved ones, and part of that tradition is sharing homemade foods. I ask you !” She pointed a spatula at the men and women seated on the other side of the counter. “Would you rather eat this lemon meringue layer cake with a filling of cream and strawberries or a rubber chicken from Lean Cuisine? Would you rather count calories or gather around the table, slice this cake, pour some coffee, and make some Christmas memories?”