“I didn’t care who answered. I didn’t care if Macon had told the whole world that I couldn’t read. I was going to read this cookbook if it killed me. Macon was watering the flowers. I didn’t look at him. I knocked. Miss Charleena answered. I held Sonny’s cookbook out to her. I told her about his accident. “I’m ready to do this now,” I told her. “I’m not going to run away.” I wanted to take those words back any number of times, but I didn’t. Sometimes it took three days to get through one recipe.... Once I tried to teach Miss Charleena how to make butterscotch brownies, and she kept saying, “How do I know if I’ve overmixed the batter?” “Well, you just know. . . .” “How do I know if the muffin springs back when I touch it? How much does it spring back?” “Well . . .” She was worse at cooking than I was at reading. Once I just slammed Sonny’s cookbook shut and started crying. “Foster,” she said. “Maybe I’m the wrong person to help you. I’m not a teacher!”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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