Mike bit into his lower lip to keep from laughing, while Grandma Rosa shook a finger in my father's face. "I have a feeling they are going to stay the same color. Not every grandchild of yours must look Italian, pazza."
"Okay, okay." My father held up a hand. "I'm just glad that she and her mother are all right." His expression turned solemn as he stared at me. "You've had too many close calls, baby girl. You've got to be more careful from now on, okay? There's a little person who needs you—more than anything."
His words both touched and surprised me. I raised an eyebrow at Mike, and he looked as amazed as me. My father never waxed philosophical unless he was talking about his beloved blog.
"But what's her name?" Mom asked. "You have decided on one, right?"
I glanced over at Mike, who was grinning broadly at me. "Yes, Mike came up with it. It's perfect for her."
My mother gave me an impatient look. "Well, are you going to share it with us?"
"Tell them, sweetheart," I said to my husband.
Mike squeezed my hand and looked over at the baby, sleeping peacefully in my mother's arms. "We're going to call her Corinne. Corinne Isabella."
Gianna clapped her hands. "Corinne Isabella Donovan. Grandma's middle name and Sal's. That's perfect, Mike."
"It is nice." My mother sounded sulky. "Of course, Maria is a nice name too."
My grandmother smiled with pleasure. "That is very thoughtful, my dears. Thank you. But that is a big name for such a little baby. Perhaps she should have a nickname."
Mike winked. "Well, we thought of that too, Rosa. We have the perfect name for our tough little girl. Cookie." He leaned down to kiss me. "If Sal hadn't come back home to start her own cookie shop, we might never have gotten back together. And we may never have had this precious gift. She's a tough cookie, just like her mother. Last night proved that."
Gianna's face lit up. "I love it."
"Cookies are one of my favorite things," my father mused. "Especially the ones that Josie makes. Unless you want to name her Fortune and have her middle name be Cookie."
I shuddered. "No, Dad. Enough with the fortune cookies. They're a moneymaker for the bakery. That's all. There's nothing to them."
Mike looked impressed. "Well, hallelujah. I'm so glad to hear you say that, princess. It's only taken, what—three years?"
"Cookie is a cute name," my mother admitted. "Almost as nice as Maria."
My grandmother nodded approval as my mother handed her the baby. "It is a beautiful name for a beautiful baby. She even smells a little bit like vanilla."
"That's my shampoo." Gianna laughed. "It really is the perfect name for her."
My mother turned to look at Gianna, hurt registering on her lovely face. "Darling, I know you were trying to consider Sal's condition, but I still wish you'd gone through with the wedding. All of your relatives were so disappointed."
Gianna opened her mouth to speak, but Johnny interrupted. "I'm sorry, Maria, but it was our decision. We wanted to get married without all the fanfare. Everything quickly got out of hand thanks, in part, to my grandmother. I'm sorry that you were disappointed." He lifted Alex in his arms and leaned down to give Gianna a kiss. "We're happy, and that's what matters."
"Well." My mother sighed. "That's true enough. And you are having a reception next week." Her face brightened. "I just love a party. Especially on New Year's!"
"Your entire life is a party," my grandmother reminded her.
"Sal, I'm sorry." Gianna's lower lip trembled. "It was selfish of me to plan a wedding for the same week you were expecting. You were such a good sport about it too."
"It wasn't a big deal," I assured her. "Like your husband said, you're married and you're happy, which is what counts."
Mom leaned over the bed to kiss me again. "Would you like us to come and have Christmas dinner with you tomorrow night? It's a shame you'll have to spend the holiday in here because of your C-section."
I hesitated. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her feelings, but I preferred to spend the day alone with Mike and Cookie. Our first Christmas as a family. It didn't matter that it would be in a hospital, as long as we were together. "I'll let you know."
Grandma Rosa rose. "Sally and the baby need their rest. We should go. I must get dinner ready for tonight, and there is church as well."
"Don't worry about Spike," Johnny assured us. "I stopped and picked him up last night. We'll keep him at our house for now."
After I had kissed everyone and they'd left the room, my grandmother lingered behind. She smiled at us, her wise eyes thoughtful. "I will make Christmas dinner and bring it tomorrow night. Your pazza parents can stay away for one day, cara mia. It will not hurt them."
"Does that include a cheesecake?" I asked hopefully.
"But of course." She patted Mike on the cheek and then kissed Cookie's forehead. "I am so happy for you both. She is a true blessing, and what did you say? One tough cookie. Look at all she had to endure to get here."
I pressed my cheek against Cookie's soft face. "Yes, I know. It still scares me when I think about it."
Grandma Rosa pursed her lips. "We never know what tomorrow will bring, my dear. She must always come first."
I gave an involuntary shudder. "Grandma, you're scaring me."
"I do not mean to." She reached for my hand. "I realize that you did everything you could to keep yourself out of danger from that horrible man. He has gone to the hammer and will not bother you again."
"Slammer," I corrected.
"Whatever. I would like to think that all these brushes with death are over for you, but something tells me that is not the case. Your pazza father and I do not agree on many things, but he is right. You must be more careful because this little girl needs her mother."
"I promise. She'll always come first, and I'll never put her in danger." Cookie started to fuss, so I began to nurse her, stroking her cheek with my finger. Yes, my baby had gone through a lot to get here. Family had always come first with me, and that would never change. Was it possible to get this murder hex off my head?
Grandma Rosa had once told me that my destiny on this earth was to help people. I would never turn my back on anyone who needed it, but my priorities had changed with the baby's birth. She and Mike were the most important people in my world. I knew how fragile life could be and intended to make every minute of mine count.
Mike kissed the top of my head. "I'm going to walk your grandmother to her car. It's a bit icy out there. Then I'm going to grab something to eat from the cafeteria. Can I get either of my princesses anything?"
I made a face. "You're going to have to change that."
His brow wrinkled. "Change what?"
I shifted the baby in my arms. "You always call me princess. We can't have two princesses."
"No, we can't." He grinned. "I guess you've just been promoted to queen."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The baby didn't nurse long before she fell back asleep. I was about to get out of bed and place her in the bassinet when there was a tap at my door. "Come on in."
Brian strode into the room in full police uniform. He took his hat off and smiled at me. "Wow. Congratulations, Sally. Ally told me that you'd had a girl."
"I haven't even seen Ally." I gestured for him to sit. "News travels fast in this hospital, huh?"
"Yeah, it's gossip central around here." He sat down in the chair and stared at Cookie on my lap. "She's beautiful. You must be so happy."
"I am." I still couldn't believe she was all mine as I stared down into her perfect little face. "I have everything that I've ever wanted now."
Brian was silent, and the moment felt a bit awkward, so I changed the subject. "Did you get a chance to talk to Farley?"
"Yes, I questioned him this morning." Brian ran a hand over the unshaven stubble on his chin. He looked tired. "The guy is seriously missing a few screws. It may have been wrong of Tatiana not to tell him about the abortion, but he still thinks he was justified in killing
her. Kind of an eye for an eye from his perspective. He has no regrets about Damian either." His green eyes met mine and were troubled. "It's like the guy doesn't have a soul, Sally. You've encountered quite a few crazies in your life, but Farley is definitely at the top of the list."
I exhaled sharply. "The sooner he goes away, the better for me."
He nodded in agreement. "Don't worry. He won't be bothering you again. It's your misfortune that you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those two guys needed a car and saw yours. When Farley found out that you knew Damian, it was the perfect opportunity for him. The ironic part is that, for once in your life, you tried to stay out of trouble, but it found you anyway."
With any luck, it would stay away forever, but I guessed that might not happen, as my grandmother had predicted earlier. "I didn't have a chance to thank you for last night." He'd been the first one to arrive on the scene, or so I'd been told. "I didn't get to thank Nick either. Did you talk to him?"
Brian drew his eyebrows together. "Are you talking about the same guy from your carjacking?"
I shifted in the bed and winced from the pain, careful not to disturb Cookie lying in my lap in a warm little bundle. "Yes. Did you see him?"
He shook his head with regret. "No, Sally, I'm sorry. You were alone when I got to the bakery—well, except for that whack job, of course. He was starting to come around, you were out cold, and it absolutely terrified me." His mouth hardened, and he looked directly into my eyes. "I hate to think what might have happened if I hadn't gotten there so quickly."
I didn't want to think about it either. "Please know how grateful I am to you. But everyone thinks I'm crazy. I know that Nick was there, Brian."
He studied me carefully. "You want to know what I think? This might sound strange, but sometimes I think people are sent to watch over us in difficult situations. When I first started on the force in Boston, I pulled a guy over for speeding. I didn't know that he was also higher than a kite on drugs. When I asked for his license, he reached into the glove compartment and then shot me in the shoulder. While I was lying on the ground helpless, he aimed the gun at me again. I know he would have killed me if he'd had the chance."
"Oh God," I said in horror. "What happened then?"
Brian went on. "At that moment, as he was standing at the front of the vehicle and I was lying to the side, his car moved forward and hit him. He didn't die, but was hurt badly enough that I had the opportunity to crawl to my car and radio for help. Afterward, he swore up and down that he'd put the brake on. How do you explain that?"
"Honestly, I think there are some things in this life that can't be explained—things that are beyond our control," I said simply. "It wasn't your time to go, so someone was watching over you that night. The way that Nick watched over me."
He nodded. "Exactly. You know what you saw, and that's what matters. Don't worry about what everyone else says. You've got more important things to think about." He smiled down at Cookie, sleeping like an angel. "Like this little lady. By the way, what's her name?"
I beamed. "Her given name is Corinne, but we've decided to call her Cookie for short."
He burst into laughter. "That's perfect. In a few years, you're going to have another helper in your bakery."
"How about you?" I asked slyly. "Any little helpers in your future?"
A shadow passed over his face, and for a moment, I was afraid that my question had offended him.
"I definitely want kids," Brian said after a beat. "And I think I'm ready for them. Ally and I postponed the wedding date a couple of times, as you might have heard. But that was her doing, not mine." He stared at me earnestly, as if he wanted to be sure that I believed him. "I'm ready to make a commitment to her. It's taken me a while to get over—"
I sucked in a breath and prayed he wouldn't finish the sentence. Thankfully, he didn't.
"Anyhow," Brian continued, "we're getting married on Valentine's Day." His face reddened. "It's going to be a small affair, only family."
"There's no need to explain," I said gently. "I'm really happy for you. For both of you." Sure, Brian and I were friends, but I didn't think Ally would want me at her wedding, and I couldn't blame her. They needed to live their own lives, and I intended to do the same.
Brian rose to his feet. "I've got to get back to the station. Are you taking a long maternity leave from the bakery?"
"A few weeks, and then I plan on bringing the baby to work with me." I watched her little chest rise and fall and felt a tightness in my own—love, no doubt. "I don't want to be away from her."
"You're going to make a terrific mother, Sally," Brian said gruffly. He placed a hand on the doorknob and then turned around. "Does this mean that the police department can rest easy now? Are you and Josie hanging up your sleuthing aprons for good?"
I winked. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll manage to come up with something."
* * *
The clock on the wall was about to strike midnight, but I couldn't sleep. When I was a little girl, I'd always had a difficult time falling asleep on Christmas Eve. Resignedly, I got out of bed, a slow and painful process these days. Slowly I walked to the window and stared out into the deserted parking lot below. The snow had stopped several hours ago. Someone had been in the Christmas spirit and had even made a snowman outside, decorating him with a Santa hat.
The room was quiet and warm. Cookie was in her bassinet, although she'd probably wake up to nurse soon. Mike was lying on his back in the hospital bed, snoring softly. They both looked content and peaceful. Mike had gone home earlier to shower and change. He'd looked tired, but he'd insisted he wanted to spend the night with us. He was going to be such a wonderful father.
The nurse had told me that Santa would be stopping by the maternity ward tomorrow morning and that all the babies were dressed in Christmas stockings for the occasion. I couldn't wait to snap pictures of Cookie in hers.
I turned and picked up the pile of greeting cards Josie had brought with her earlier and began to open them. The news of the baby and my most recent brush with death had spread like wildfire which was typical for the Colwestern grapevine. In fact, good old Jerry Maroon had even mentioned my baby in his column this morning. Was he standing outside the hospital when I delivered Cookie? At least this headline had been somewhat of an improvement. Former Murder Suspect Delivers Baby after Almost Being Murdered Herself. Good grief. This was not going into Cookie's scrapbook.
Josie and Rob had sent flowers and so had a couple of our regular customers. Mrs. Gavelli had sent a handmade baby blanket over with my grandmother, and to my relief, it was pink, not black.
A few of the cards had rattles attached to the envelopes. One customer had even sent a teddy bear. Some of the envelopes contained gift cards, which was thoughtful but not necessary. I suspected they felt guilty about deserting the bakery during the past week. Oh well. It didn't matter anymore. I was blissfully happy and had no intention of holding any grudges. Life was too short for that.
During Josie's visit, she'd mentioned how several of our regulars had placed large last-minute orders, claiming they'd forgotten to do so earlier. Josie had baked from dawn to dusk, and they'd still run out of Christmas tree and thumbprint jelly cookies. I deemed that a successful day.
I sat down in the chair next to my bed and finished opening the rest of the cards, smiling as I noted the names on each one. I made a mental note to send thank you cards for the gifts when I got home. Filled with happiness, I glanced around the room. My little family was still out like a light. Even though we were in a hospital, it was the best Christmas that I'd ever had.
The last card had no writing on the front. I tore it open and found, to my amusement, that it was a Christmas card instead of a congratulations one. Santa waved at me from a sleigh laden with gifts underneath the caption Hope This Is Your Best Christmas Yet!
My Santa phobia had disappeared, and I opened the card with interest. The inside was blank except for five words. Someone had written i
n block letters with a red felt-tip marker, Always Believe.
It was signed, Your friend, Nick.
I rose from the chair and stared out the window again, the card clutched tightly between my hands. It was after midnight, and I thought I heard bells in the distance, perhaps from the hospital chapel. Cookie was exactly a day old.
There was a full moon sitting high in the sky, its beam of light shining directly down on me. Despite the cold glass, I was warmed from head to toe. I stared up at the moon for several minutes, thinking about how lucky I was. A shadow passed over the moon, and I blinked. Was that a falling star? Or something else?
I pressed my nose against the glass and continued to watch the moon. The image did not reappear, but that didn't matter. I knew what I'd seen, and the thought made me smile.
"Merry Christmas," I whispered. The light from the moon glowed brighter—a shining, powerful beacon that stood out against the still night. "I'll always believe."
* * * * *
RECIPES
Chocolate-filled Cookie Cups
Ingredients:
1½ cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ cup (4 ounces) unsalted butter, softened
¾ cup packed brown sugar
1 egg, room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips
Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Grease mini muffin pans that have 12 or more cups each or use mini paper baking cups. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, and baking soda. In another large mixing bowl, beat the butter and brown sugar until light and creamy, about 2–3 minutes. Beat in the egg and vanilla. Gradually beat in the flour mixture. Stir in the chocolate chips.
Roll the dough into 1-inch balls (roughly 1 tablespoon each) and add to each cup in the muffin pan. Bake 10-12 minutes or until cookies fill the cup, are done in the middle, and golden brown.
Ginger Snapped to Death Page 19