阅读理解
Mayor Day called me that morning, his voice full of an urgency I'd never heard before. "These Chinese big people are coming to our town and I need you to prepare something really special for them. I'm relying on you, Adrian. The whole town is. This could be just the thing to put us over the top."
"Okay, I'm on it," I said. I'm a caterer (酒席承办人), and for years I've done all the mayor's events for Thomasville, Alabama, our little town of 4,099. He likes everything I make, but I knew exactly what he wanted this time, banana pudding, his favorite.
It's my mama's recipe. It was her desserts that she was known for. Mama cooked her banana pudding on the stove. Hers was thick and cream-colored, not dark yellow like the other ladies made. I remember practicing in the kitchen when I was a young girl. Mama showed me how to make banana pudding properly. "Good job, Adrian," Mama would say. I was so proud when I finally got mine just right, the way she did.
For months Mayor Day had tried his best to persuade some Chinese businessmen who ran a copper company to build their new plant in Thomasville, but our little town didn't have the land they needed. "We are leaning toward Houston or Lamar," the company representative told Mayor Day. "There is nothing personal, just business."
"Wait! What about Wilcox County?" the mayor asked. Wilcox, just east of us, was one of the poorest counties in the entire United States and had got plenty of land. There hadn't been any kind of plant built there since the 1970s.
"But that's not your county," the company representative said. "Why are you lobbying (游说) for them?"
"Because if you build in Wilcox County their economy will grow and so will Thomasville's. Besides, there's something to be said for loving your neighbor, isn't there?"
The representative agreed to visit Wilcox County before the final decision was made. All the top leaders would come and have lunch in Thomasville, lunch that I cooked. And for dessert, the dish the mayor hoped would sweeten the deal. Banana pudding with 300 jobs riding on it, I knew it had to be perfect, like Mama's.
The luncheon was held at the Thomasville Civic Center. Next to each plate I'd placed a little cup of pudding. I looked on anxiously as the Chinese businessmen eyed the dessert. Were they curious or sickening? One of the men pointed at his cup and said something to the translator. I couldn't hear his answer but the businessman still looked puzzled. He took a spoon, inserted it into the pudding, then put barely a taste to his lips. For a moment there was no reaction. Then he smiled, a grin that went from ear to ear. The rest of the businessmen started eating their pudding, one bite after another. In seconds all the cups were empty.
One of the businessmen looked toward me and said something to the translator, who waved me over to the table. "Excuse me," he said. "Is there more? More …" he searched for the word, "… pie?" I brought out all the banana pudding. Even last cup was finished. By the time the men put down their dessert spoons they'd reached an agreement. They needed to know more about Wilcox County. There would be another meeting, another lunch.
"And we will have again the banana pie?" one of the leaders asked.
Mayor Day didn't miss a beat. "Absolutely," he said. "Adrian's lunches always come with banana pie."
And a few months later, when it was announced that the plant would be built in Wilcox County instead of Houston, everyone joked that the decision had come down to one thing. Mama's been away for a few years now, but I like to think she's up in heaven, looking down on that new copper plant going up in Wilcox County, and saying, "Good job, Adrian."
