Wednesday late afternoon bay view

She used the damp green cotton dish towel to clean the handprint from the refrigerator handle. The deep purple evidence looked like an alien remnant instead of the blueberry mixture that was meant for the pie. Her hand still stung from the burn when the hot mixture tipped over the side of the saucepan too quickly into the crust. But the pie was in the oven and her left hand was bathing in ice water. No damage done, just an inconvenient blueberry tattoo.

She set the oven timer for 15 minutes, just to take a break on the back porch and mindlessly watch the bay. She stood at the railing and stretched forward, arching her back, loosening the muscles from a day of housework, shopping and cooking. Her family would be home soon. Hannah should be home from dance lessons any minute. The husband, Bernard, usually came in the door around 5:30. And his wife, Avery, was always prompt at six, ready to eat dinner and quiz everyone about their day. This was her family, her American family. Her Brazilian family lived in Fortaleza where her sisters went to school and her mother was a chef in a restaurant.

This was her summer vacation with her employers. They continued to work, but just for 2 days a week, spending Thursday through Monday at their house on the island. Their seventeen year old daughter studied with a Broadway dancer, further down the island every day. This was Wednesday night and the prospect of a houseful for the next five days had Aelah distracted from the white heron taking flight, west over the light bay grass. Five more days until her serenity returned, until she could read her books and write her letters home. Ahead, five days of party planning, last minute foraging on the island for that special cheese, the sweet corn, the scallops of just the right diameter to impress the neighbors, and five days of alcohol maintenance.

She closed her eyes and smiled. Hannah called her name from the kitchen area. She opened her eyes, switched on the pool lights, slid the door open and checked her pie. The crust was golden brown. Perfect.