Part Forty-Nine

"Kelly, have you finished your new bumper sticker?" asked Raoul as they gathered on the morning ferry.

"Still working on it," said Kelly.

"I must have missed that," said Luke. "What bumper sticker?"

"It reads…God Created Evolution," said Kelly.

"You were distracted," Florence said to Luke. "We understand. It's natural among the younger members of the male species when confronted with lovely females." She lightly touched the back of her new hairdo to make sure it was still intact. "Isn't that what they mean by natural selection?"

"It happens among the older males as well," said Peggy, looking up from a pad of paper on which she was writing.

"I thought we said that was natural rejection?" said Florence with a hysterical laugh.

"I hope we aren't going to rehash that one," said Raoul, opening his newspaper with a rattle.

"I thought it was a great party," said Paula.

"How would you know?" said Florence. "I seem to recall that Luke gave you a tour of the beach that lasted an hour. Did you find any new species of evolving life?"

"We were looking for firewood," said Luke.

Florence sighed. "I have many fond memories of searching for firewood on the beach. Seems like the best pieces were hidden in some cozy little alcove. But then I always got sand in my panty hose."

They laughed. Peggy looked up from her writing just as the ferry was making the turn out of Eagle Harbor. The lights of Seattle glistened like jewels against the dark morning sky, and Puget Sound was so calm that the outline of the city was reflected on the water's surface.

"Sounds like you're weighing in on the evolution debate," said Luke to Kelly.

"Since when does Kelly Flinn not weigh in on any debate?" said Raoul.

"Speaking of things evolving, Peggy's turning me into a chef," said Florence. "Are you writing down that blackberry cobbler recipe for me?"

Peggy scribbled on her pad while halfway listening to the conversation. "Yes. With photographs and step-by-step instructions."

"Ooh, let's see," said Florence. She sat between Peggy and Paula; across from them sat Raoul, Kelly and Luke. It was how Raoul's party had ended: the women arranged opposite the men. It was not what Peggy had expected.

"I began the day by picking the blackberries in my backyard," said Peggy to Florence and Paula, who was also listening eagerly.



"I think it's key to pick them the day you use them. Don't you agree?" said Peggy.

"Oh by all means, that's what I always do," said Florence with a giggle. She turned to Paula, "I don't think Peggy understood what she was getting into when she agreed to teach me how to actually bake something."

"Perhaps the mint juleps clouded her judgment," said Paula.

Raoul cleared his throat proudly. "They've been known to do that."

Florence looked at him. "But only to an extent. I would say Peggy and I showed remarkably clear judgment by the end of the evening, especially when it came to selecting things. Or not."

The women laughed while Raoul rolled his eyes. Peggy continued quickly with her narrative.

"I picked berries until I had about two pounds," said Peggy. "They were very plump. Look."



"Ripe and juicy-looking," said Florence.

"These practically fell into the bowl when you touched the bush," said Peggy. "Afterwards I cut up some ripe peaches and combined them with the blackberries until I had about two-and-a-half pounds of fruit. Then I tossed that with a quarter cup of sugar," said Peggy.



"Mmm," said Florence. "It's looking more delicious with each step."

"Let that stand for half an hour, then strain it through a colander. Reserve a quarter-cup of the juice and whisk in a teaspoon of corn starch and a tablespoon of juice from a lemon."

"You don't use lemon juice from a bottle?" said Florence.

"Never. That would be like choosing second best," said Peggy.

"Second best has a low selection rate. Haven't you noticed?" said Florence with a wink.

Peggy sneaked a glance at Raoul, but his attention seemed to be focused on his newspaper. She wasn't comfortable with the way Florence was rubbing it in. The whole incident was nothing really, just a quirky twist of events. At Raoul's party, Peggy found herself competing with Florence for Raoul's attention. Peggy knew it was going to happen, even though she didn't want it to, even though she ordered herself not to fall into that trap. Yet, as she put on her swishy black skirt and the clingy peach-colored top at the beginning of the evening she knew she was dressing for combat. Raoul, meanwhile, seemed to bask in the attention all evening, which Peggy did not find attractive. After all, if two women are going to compete for a man's attention, at least he could act surprised and flattered, instead of smug and confident. Then Raoul stepped on his own foot when he told a sexist joke at which the men had a good laugh while Peggy and Florence looked at each other with revulsion. It addition to being tasteless, it wasn't even funny. Paula, to her credit, joined them out of camaraderie and the evening disintegrated into women and men chatting separately. When they were saying their goodbyes Florence couldn't resist poking fun at Raoul with dumb jokes about "survival of the unfittest." Now, as she was trying to let the whole episode pass, it seemed Peggy had a new bosom buddy in Florence.

"So what happens next?" asked Florence.

"You bake the fruit in a dish for ten minutes. While it's in the oven you make a batch of biscuit dough, but using plain low-fat yogurt instead of milk. Also, these biscuits have extra sugar so they're kind of sweet and buttery."

"There's something about sweet and buttery that's so much more appealing than dry and ornery, don't you agree?" said Florence.

"It's a well known fact," said Paula, "that sweet and buttery members of the species have a higher probability of selection."

Peggy pressed on while Florence and Paula giggled. "When the fruit is hot and bubbly you take the dish out and plop six clumps of biscuit dough on top of the hot fruit. Then you put it back in the oven for about sixteen minutes."



"That's awesome," said Paula. "It sure was tasty."

"Yes, Peggy, it was quite good," said Raoul.

"I like how everything bonds together at the end," said Florence. "It must be the chemistry. I'll bet one dash of the wrong ingredient could uncobble the whole cobbler."

Raoul looked at Kelly and Luke. "You get the feeling they're milking this for all it's worth?"

Luke's face brightened. "There's only one solution."

They all looked at Luke.

"We take them to lunch," he said.

"Now you're talking," said Florence. "You've just increased your chances of being selected."

"Can we go to Pike Place Market?" said Paula.

"That's an excellent selection," said Peggy.

"Okay, lunch it is," Raoul grumbled good-naturedly.

Florence nudged Peggy. "I knew we could wrangle something out of this deal."

Peggy smiled quietly. This was a game to Florence, and she was much better at playing it than Peggy. But Peggy was slowly realizing that it wasn't the kind of game she wanted to play at all. She wanted to be herself and let things fall as they may. She didn't see the point of "landing" a relationship like it was a business deal. She thought, if Raoul falls for these kinds of antics then he's not someone I want to spend time with. It's really up to him, in the long run.

Satisfied that she had clarified her own position, Peggy turned the page of her pad and began a letter to Marjorie. She wondered to herself which was better: selecting, or being selected?