She started the coffeemaker and rummaged around in the fridge and kitchen cupboards for something edible when she became aware of a marked chill in the air.
Searching around for the source of the cold front that had rolled in, she saw that the kitchen door was ajar. She urgently needed to install a pet door, so Max and Diego wouldn’t keep pushing open the door in the middle of the night. There had been a spate of breakins lately, and holding an open house day in and day out perhaps wasn’t such a good idea.
Not that she had a lot of valuables to steal—or other stuff sneak thieves would be remotely interested in. One simply cannot amass a wealth of material possessions on a reporter’s salary. But still. No sense in giving them easy access to her home and hearth.
She made a mental note to talk to her dad. Then, discovering she was out of cereal, milk and yogurt, decided not to postpone the urgent missive but deliver it in person.
So she slipped her feet into the galoshes she kept by the kitchen door, cinched her pink terry cloth robe tighter around her slight frame, and stepped out into the backyard.
Since her parents lived next door, and a convenient opening in the hedge that divided the respective backyards provided easy access, she arrived at her final destination in seven seconds flat, without breaking a sweat, cup of coffee in hand, taking occasional sips.
The hits of caffeine drove the sleep from her body, and by the time she was opening her parents’ screen door and stepping into their kitchen, she was more or less human again.
“Hey, sweetie,” said her mother, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee. “You’re early.”
“Ran out of breakfast essentials,” she intimated, and started foraging the fridge. Juice, milk, yogurt… Check, check and check. She took a bowl from the cupboard over the sink, dragged down the oversized box of Corn Flakes, and started her own breakfast prep.
Her mother, who was the spitting image of Odelia, albeit with a touch of gray streaking her own blond hair, called out,“Tex, honey! Breakfast is ready!”
Taking a seat at the kitchen counter, Odelia quickly dug in, alternating between scooping up her cereal, now soaked in milk and drowned in fruit yogurt with half a banana, and sipping from her coffee, to which her mother now added creamer and a spoon of sugar.
“How are things going at the paper?” asked her mom, taking a seat at the counter.
“Great. I still have that article to finish about the new school play and the upcoming senior citizen dance—and I’m still hoping to get lucky and land that exclusive one-on-one with the one and only Charlie Dieber!”
“Ooh. Aren’t you the lucky one?”
“Yeah. So far Dan struck out with Charlie’s management, but I’m hoping they change their minds. Keeping my fingers crossed!”
Mom crossed her fingers and so did Odelia. They were both equally big Dieber fans.
Odelia’s father, who’d entered the kitchen, asked, “Dieber. Isn’t he that actor—”
“Singer, Dad.”
“Right. I knew that.”
Tex Poole was a large man, with a shock of white hair and an engaging smile. He was digging around the cupboards, opening door after door, until Mom said,“Food’s on the table, hon.”
He glanced down at the bowl of oatmeal porridge Mom had placed on the counter and grimaced.“It’s at times like these that I sincerely regret attending medical school. Why couldn’t I have become a plumber, and be blissfully unaware of the importance of diet?”
Mom waved a hand.“Even plumbers have to watch their cholesterol levels. No more saturated fats for you. Those levels need to come down and they need to come down before you go and have a stroke or some other horrible incident I don’t even want to think about.”
“Yeah, Dad,” said Odelia. “Even plumbers need to look after their pipes.”
“Ha ha. I never knew I raised a comedian for a daughter.” He plunked down, staring at the distasteful-looking sludge, spoon raised but not making any indication to start eating it.
“Here, have some of my yogurt,” Odelia said, feeling sorry for her dad, who’d been forced to put himself on a diet after discovering his cholesterol levels were off the charts.
He gratefully added some yogurt to his porridge, took a deep breath and dug in.“I know this stuff is healthy—but why does it have to taste so bad?”
“You’ll get used to it,” Mom said.
“Oh, Dad, if you have time, could you install a pet door over at my place?”
“I’ll do it today,” said her father, visibly quivering when the first spoon of oatmeal hit his esophagus and the gloop proceeded to slide down his gullet and into his stomach.
“Wasn’t it today that Charlie Dieber was on Morning Sunshine?” asked Mom.
“Oh! Right! Better turn on the TV,” she instructed her mother.
Mom obligingly switched on the TV set, but the story featured on the televised radio show was an item about freshly hatched chicks, and Odelia quickly lost interest.
“Looks like we just missed it,” said Mom.
Just then, Odelia’s grandmother waltzed into the kitchen, holding her new iPhone to her ear, and nodding seriously. “Yes, Your Holiness. But there are children dying in Angujistan every day, and we need to get a handle on the situation before things get out of hand.”
Odelia exchanged a puzzled look with her mother, who merely rolled her eyes.
“Yes, Pope Francis,” said Gran as she took a seat at the counter and gestured at her empty cup that read, ‘Greatest Grandma in the World.’ Odelia poured coffee into the cup while Gran continued her curious conversation. “Yeah, I agree we can do more, Your Holiness. Have you thought about getting in touch with the United Nations or UNICEF? I would advise you to get on the horn with Ban Ki-moon pronto, Francis. Just tell him what I just told you.” Her wrinkled face creased into a wide smile. “No,you’re welcome, Your Holiness. Us Catholics have to stick together. Yes, just doing my part for world peace.”
She disconnected, placed her iPhone on the table and took a sip of coffee. Only then did she notice that the rest of her family were intently staring at her.
“What?” she asked. “Never heard a woman chat with the Pope before?”
“You were actually chatting with the pope just now?” asked Odelia. “The pope?”
“The one in Rome?” asked Dad, gratefully using this interruption as an excuse to put down his spoon.
Gran shook her head, causing her tiny white curls to dance around her wrinkly features.“Do you know any other popes? Of course the one in Rome. I told Francis he needs to get a handle on this Angujistan business before more people die and he agreed wholeheartedly. As he should. When a fellow Catholic calls in with an urgent message it’s only natural that he would be thrilled. He told me he’d heed my most excellent advice.”
“Your grandmother has been advising world leaders,” said Mom at Odelia’s unposed question. “She’s already talked to Bong Si-moon.”
“Ban Ki-moon,” Gran was quick to correct her.
“That one. He runs the United Nations.”
“Great guy,” said Gran. “Very happy to chat.”
“And who was that other one you talked to?” asked Mom.
“Try to keep up, Marge. Bill Gates. Sharp dude. We talked about providing housing for the poor. I gave him a few suggestions and he was more than happy to jot them down.”
Dad gave Odelia a knowing look.“We’re in the presence of greatness, Odelia.”
“Yeah, forget about Charlie Dieber,” Mom added. “It’s your grandmother you should be interviewing.”
“But how?” Odelia asked. “How do you get in touch with these people?”
Gran shrugged.“I have my ways.” She hopped from the stool with surprising agility. “Gotta be going. I’m expecting a call from the President. Give him a piece of my mind.”
And with these words, she stalked off, frowning at her phone and very much looking the part of the highly regarded proficient advisor to the world’s political and business elite.