House of the Hanging Jade Read Online Free Page B

finished up their baking for the day and were tending to the late-afternoon swarm of customers who came in to pick up a dessert or a loaf of bread to have with dinner. I helped the last patrons who straggled in at closing time and then returned to my mother’s kitchen, where I never tired of watching her cook.
    For dinner Dad had picked up a fish from a place down the road. The fisherman and his wife sold his fresh catch from a small porch off the side of their house; it’s where my parents bought all their fresh fish. Mom cleaned it and roasted it whole, adding lemon slices and herbs. She never used a recipe; she just knew what tasted good and did all her cooking “by feel,” as she described it.
    I went outside and picked a couple papayas for dessert, and the three of us had dinner with my sister and Haliaka. As always, it was fun and noisy and delicious.
    I packed most of my things in the car after dinner. Haliaka bounced around, asking me all kinds of questions about my new job.
    â€œWill you live there?”
    â€œIs the house nice?”
    â€œIs it near the water?”
    â€œWhat will you cook for the people?”
    â€œCan I visit you there?”
    â€œAre there any kids?”
    â€œDo they like you?”
    I answered her queries dutifully and finally, laughing, I told her to go find Tutu and think of some questions to ask her. I knew my mother would indulge Haliaka’s constant queries.
    The next day I helped my parents with the morning baking, then set out with my full car and a cat carrier on the front seat, Meli meowing inside. She did not like cars.
    When we arrived at the Jorgensens’ house, I took Meli out first. I lugged her carrier to the front door. Once again, Akela was there to open it before I could even knock. She stepped back to let me carry Meli through the door and down the hall.
    I let Meli out on the floor of my bedroom. She crouched low to the ground, sniffing and moving very slowly as she checked out her new home. Her ears were back, the classic sign of an anxious cat, but I knew she would eventually get used to living at the Jorgensen house. She didn’t really have a choice.
    I returned to the car for more of my things, this time accompanied by Akela. Together we took one suitcase full of clothes and three crates full of cookbooks to my rooms. There was a built-in bookcase in my den, so we placed the cookbooks in there. Meli walked over and wound between my legs while I was putting the books away. She seemed to be adjusting well already.
    I hadn’t planned to make any meals that day because I was supposed to start with breakfast the following morning. No one showed up wanting lunch, so I spent part of the afternoon unpacking all my things and getting them set up in my suite. I sat down in the den for a while with a pad and paper, jotting down ideas for menus. Since I hadn’t met anyone in the household except for Akela and Mrs. Jorgensen, I didn’t know what the family’s tastes were. I did recall Mrs. Jorgensen telling me that her family liked heavy meals and that she was trying to get them to eat healthier, so I focused on lean meats, fish, and vegetables.
    Once I had double-checked for ingredients in the kitchen and finalized my grocery list, I set out in my car for the nearest market, which was not far up the main road. I had never been inside this particular market, but it was typical of those in small towns on the island of Hawaii: lots of Asian ingredients, produce from local farms, a limited dairy selection, a nice meat and poultry section, and lots of fresh fish. Mrs. Jorgensen had set up accounts with all the nearby markets, so I didn’t have to pay for the groceries myself. I also picked up a free local paper that I knew would list farmers’ markets in the North Kohala district.
    I unpacked the groceries back at the house. It was quiet in the kitchen. I watched the waves crashing down below on the lava rock as I put things