“Kady,” Jane said seriously, “I must return home tomorrow. My husband is threatening to leave me if I don’t return, not to mention what my boss is saying, so we have to talk now.”
“All right,” Kady said, knowing she could put off the inevitable no longer. Part of her liked that Jane saw that she was different, but another part of her wished her friend were more like Gregory and his mother and noticed nothing at all different.
Ten minutes later they were ensconced in the coffee shop of Nordstrom’s, and since it was early, it was quiet in the restaurant. “What’s going on with you?” Jane asked again.
For a moment Kady thought of lying yet again and saying th
at nothing had changed, but Jane was too perceptive for that. Kady wasn’t in the least tempted to tell her about Cole and the people of Legend or about Ruth’s unbelievable story. And if the truth were told, with each day that passed the story seemed to fade from Kady’s mind until she sometimes wondered if it had really happened. The only clear memory she seemed to have was of when she’d cooked for people who needed to know what she could teach. That memory seemed to get stronger every day.
Kady toyed with the straw in her lemonade. “I think I want to do something with my life. Like building orphanages all over Colorado. Cooking fabulous meals for people who’ve eaten many fabulous meals suddenly seems a frivolous thing to do with one’s life.”
“Orphanages?” Jane asked, eyes wide. “What do orphanages have to do with cooking?”
“Cooking for people who don’t have much is more rewarding. And it feels good to teach people how to combine bland ingredients in different ways.”
“Kady, what in the world are you talking about?”
“Welfare mothers,” she said, looking up at Jane’s stunned face. “Did you know that Americans make casseroles with potato chips on top of them? No nutritional value at all. In other countries people are taught to cook, but kids in America grow up thinking McDonald’s is a good meal.”
“So what is it you want to do? Open a cooking school?”
“I don’t know.” Kady thought of the children in Legend and how she’d persuaded them to like vegetables. “I know that everyone thinks the world’s evils are caused by drugs, but maybe kids wouldn’t be so lethargic if their nutrition was better.”
“What’s your idea?” Jane asked, staring at her friend in wonder. As long as she’d known Kady, she’d never heard such ideas from her.
“Nothing really. It’s just something that’s forming in my head. Cooking classes for women on welfare.”
“Cooking classes? Welfare?” Jane said, smiling in a smug way that made Kady angry.
“Yes! Cooking classes. Poor people need self-esteem just as much as rich people! Not all the people on welfare are bums who are too lazy to work. Think how much better they would feel if they knew how to cook a simple, nutritious meal for their children. And the women could learn a skill that might get them off welfare.”
For a moment Jane could only stare at her friend. Never had she seen Kady show passion. Oh, everyone knew she loved cooking, and she treated those knives of hers as though they were her children, but Kady had never been the type of person to fight for a cause. If there was a protest going on, Kady would probably say, “I’ll make lunch,” then disappear into the nearest kitchen.
“Something’s happened to you,” Jane said softly.
“No it hasn’t,” Kady snapped.
“It’s Gregory, isn’t it?”
“Gregory is just fine. Why does every woman assume that the cause of every other woman’s problem is a man?”
“History?”
When Kady smiled, Jane clutched her hand. “I’ve known you all your life and you’ve never been a crusader. You’ve always been content to stand in the background and let others walk all over you.”
Gasping, Kady snatched her hand away. “That’s a horrible thing to say. I do not allow people to walk over me.”
“Ha! That mother-in-law of yours—”
At that Kady straightened her back. “I think this has gone far enough. I think I’d like to leave now.”
Jane leaned toward her friend. “I don’t mean to offend you. I want to help you and—”
Kady’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “I’d like to remind you that you are not my therapist nor are you my business manager. If you want to help me then keep your nose out of my business. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, of course,” Jane said just as stiffly. “I do indeed think it is time for me to go home.”
Kady didn’t answer that remark but made her way out of the restaurant, took a left, and went to the parking garage to her car, Jane behind her. They drove back to Onions in silence.