Assault of the Pound Cake

All I'm saying, dear, is that there's no substitute for a well trained house servant, my Aunt Helen observed as she accepted a piece of pound cake and a fresh glass of lemonade.

Nana hesitated in mid slice, re-thought her response, sighed.

I know you mean well, Helen, dear, she said finally, But it's really not up for discussion.

Alice, Helen persisted - she'd never been one to know when to quit - If it's a matter of finances....

Oh, for God's sake, Helen! my grandmother snapped and stabbed so violently at the defenseless pound cake that the glass plate cracked, Do you have any idea how ungodly pretentious you can be?

Why, Alice!  Helen exclaimed, suddenly pale and taken aback, What a perfectly horrid thing to say!

My grandmother sighed heavily, sunk into a dining room chair and mumbled a half-hearted apology.  Aunt Helen gave a righteous sniff or two, regrouped and commenced a fresh campaign.

All the best people have help these days, Alice, she said sternly, It's the done thing. Why, you can't possibly be expected to keep up with this old white elephant by yourself!

I saw Nana's knuckles clench and whiten at this, could almost hear her teeth grinding and wouldn't have been a bit surprised to see smoke coming out of her ears.  Helen rambled obliviously on about what a treasure her Mrs. O'Hara was, how she'd practically be a member of the family except for her unfortunate birthplace (South Boston, she believed, but it could hardly be held against her), how Helen herself would vouch for her honesty and work ethic, how willing she would be to have her call and arrange an interview.  Through it all, Nana held the knife in a death grip, tapping it steadily against the heavy linen tablecloth.  I had a sudden and quite vivid image of blood spilling onto the perfect, pretty pound cake and slipped away unnoticed to find my Uncle Edge.

 A knife? he asked distractedly, barely looking up from his chess game with my daddy, A sharp knife?

I nodded and tugged at his sleeve insistantly, overturning a chess piece and capturing his attention just before there was a violent crash and a tremulous little scream.  In a flash, both men were on their feet and running for the dining room but the damage had been done - Aunt Helen, doused in pound cake and lemonade was sprawled on the floor and wailing piteously, my grandmother stood over her, cake knife still clutched in her hand.

Edgecomb!  Aunt Helen shrieked, Take me away from this dreadful place!  I've been assaulted!

By all means, Edgecomb, Nana said with a grim smile, Take her away or I'm likely to do it again!  There's a coffee cake in the kitchen!

It was, everyone agreed much later, not the time for humor but the sight of the two women breathing heavily and glaring at each other like two aged and out of shape gunfighters was too much.  Uncle Eddie began to laugh and my daddy joined in - in a matter of seconds, both men were holding onto each other just to stay upright - the women, both open mouthed in astonishment, finally gave way to the ridiculousness of it all.  Nana dropped the cake knife and reached her hand out to Aunt Helen and Helen took it without hesitation.
They didn't hug exactly, but they did walk arm in arm to the kitchen for the clean up.  

Still laughing, my daddy and Uncle Eddie returned to their chess game.  

Interesting choice of weapons, don't you think, Edge? my daddy remarked.

Strategic, Uncle Eddie agreed, But a pity about the pound cake.