by Joanne Fluke
“Food for thought,” Delores said, and when Al opened the door to the condo unit, he motioned to Hannah. “Come on, Hannah. Let’s all take a look.”
Hannah followed her mother through the door. There was a carpeted landing just inside the door with three steps leading down to the main room. It was a combination living room and dining room with a dining room table sitting next to the large picture window. The living room was spacious with room for comfortable, overstuffed furniture.
“It’s very nice,” Hannah said.
“How about the dining room table and chairs?” Delores asked Al. “Did they leave those behind?”
Al nodded. “They come with the place.”
“And the couch?” Hannah asked, motioning toward the long sofa that was placed with its back toward the dining area.
“The couch, too,” Al confirmed.
“With the sofa placed like that, it separates the dining area from the living room,” Delores pointed out. “I like it.” She noticed the fireplace against another wall and turned to Al. “Is that a gas-burning fireplace?”
“Yes, with a gas log. And I know it works because I checked it out before they left.”
Hannah noticed the balcony outside the sliding doors in the living room and looked out. Again, the view featured the tall pines with some of the other buildings nestled between them. “Where’s the kitchen?” she asked Al.
“Right through there.” Al pointed to a doorway close to the dining area. “The electricity is on. Take a look. Just wander through the place and look at everything. I’m going to step outside to make a phone call.”
Hannah flicked on the lights and stepped into the kitchen. It was longer than it was wide, but there was plenty of space. There was a window over the sink to let in the light and it could be opened for fresh air.
She walked to the center of the kitchen and looked around. There was plenty of counter space with cupboards above it, and a nook where the residents had probably placed a kitchen table and chairs. There was even a wall phone that could be reached by someone at the table.
One glance at the appliances caused Hannah to wince. The owners had obviously purchased a used stove and refrigerator. The only new appliance was the dishwasher. At least she wouldn’t have to replace that.
Hannah gave a little gasp as she realized that she was already thinking of renting this condo. So far, she liked everything about it, but she hadn’t yet looked at the bedroom and bathroom.
“The first thing we’ll have to do is replace the stove and refrigerator,” Delores remarked, entering the kitchen behind Hannah.
“That’s just what I was thinking,” Hannah admitted, “but let’s not rush things, Mother. We haven’t looked at the bathroom and the bedroom yet.”
“Make that plural, dear,” Delores told her. “This unit has a master bedroom with an attached bathroom and a guest bedroom with a guest bathroom right across the hall.”
Hannah began to frown. “That’s more room than I need, Mother. I really doubt that I’ll have any guests.”
“I’m sure your sister will stay here quite often,” Delores pointed out.
“Andrea?”
“No, dear. If Michelle is going to help you in the bakery, she may want to stay overnight with you on Fridays and ride to work with you on Saturday morning. That way she won’t have to walk to The Cookie Jar. And don’t forget that she’ll be going off to college a year and a half from now. She may want to come back and visit you on her vacations.”
“But . . . won’t Michelle want to stay with you at your house?”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the house, dear. I don’t need three bedrooms, and . . .” Delores paused and began to look sad. “Your father and I bought that house together right before you were born. And every time I go around a corner, I expect to see him there.”
Hannah was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry I brought it up, Mother. I never meant to make you sad. Of course the house has a lot of memories for you.”
“It’s true. And I’m not sure how I feel about that. Sometimes I feel a greater sense of loss when I don’t see him sitting in the living room, or puttering around with his woodworking out in the garage. At other times, the memory of our life there makes me happy. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I have to find out if I can cope with staying there. If I can’t, I’ll move to another place. If I can, I’ll stay. Does that make sense to you?”
“It makes perfect sense.”
“Grandma Knudson told me that a lot of women want to move when their children are grown and their husbands die.”
“But she didn’t do that. She’s still here in Lake Eden, living in the parsonage.”
“That’s right. And she described how she managed to cope when Reverend Knudson died. She said she was all prepared to move before the new minister arrived, but that was when her grandson, Reverend Bob, accepted the call to come here to Lake Eden to be our new minister. And since he was still single, he asked her to stay and keep house for him.”
“So she stayed.”
“Yes, but not before she repainted the whole inside of the house in different colors. She said it wasn’t that big of a project because since she’d planned to move, most of her things were already packed and out of the way.”
“I can understand why she wanted to make the parsonage look different.”
“Yes, and she even bought some new furniture and rearranged the rest. The only room she didn’t change was her sitting room, and that was because Reverend Knudson had regarded it as her room and he never used it.
“Did that work to make her less sad?”
“Yes, she said that the parsonage looked totally different inside and only good memories were left.”
“Like the bird tree?”
“That was one of the memories she mentioned. She told me that it was her husband’s idea in the first place. He loved birds and when she first met him, he took her bird-watching with him. Reverend Knudson was the one who began to recruit the local children to help decorate the bird tree and teach them about winter birds. After he died, she decided that she wanted to carry on the tradition. She said she continued doing the things that made her happy and changed the things that made her sad.”
“Do you want to repaint your house, Mother?” Hannah asked the obvious question.
“I think so. I’ve always wanted a sunshine yellow bedroom, but your father didn’t like the color. And I wish the kitchen were a cheerier color. The living room could certainly use new wallpaper, maybe something with stripes instead of the paisley that your father was so fond of. And the bathrooms are getting terribly shabby. I could paint the walls and buy new towels to match.”
Delores was smiling now, and Hannah decided to keep her talking about redecorating the house. “How about the furniture? Would you buy new?”
“I don’t really need to buy new, dear.” Delores gave a little laugh. “Have you seen the inside of the old woodshed in the backyard lately?”
“No, I haven’t been in there for years.”
“Well, it’s filled with the things I found at estate sales and auctions. Most of the furniture I stored out there is in very good shape. I may need to reupholster some of it, but that’s not difficult. And some of the wooden pieces need refinishing, but that would be a good project for me.”
“You’re right, Mother,” Hannah agreed. Delores was always happier when she was involved in a project.
“Let’s go see the bedrooms, dear,” Delores said, leading the way through the living room and down the long, carpeted hallway.
“Here’s the guest bathroom,” Hannah said, stopping at an open door and flicking on the lights. “Good! There’s a shower.”
“And a nice little vanity in front of the mirror with a stool under it,” Delores pointed out. “I’m glad the guest bathroom isn’t just a powder room. Al told me that the one-bedroom units have powder rooms right off the living rooms. He said they call the powder rooms guest bathrooms,
but they’re very small rooms with a sink and a commode. This one is really a second bathroom.”
Hannah turned off the bathroom lights and they went across the hall to look at the guest bedroom. There was a large closet along one wall with mirrored doors. The room was good-sized and there was plenty of room for a double or perhaps even a queen-size bed.
“That window will have to be curtained,” Delores said, walking over to look outside. “It’s right next to the covered staircase outside. I probably have curtains we could use until you find what you want.”
“You’re right, Mother,” Hannah said, walking over to look. “Anyone walking up the stairs can see right into this room.”
What they’d just done suddenly struck Hannah. Delores was talking as if they’d already rented the condo unit and Hannah was thinking along the same lines. As they left the spare bedroom and walked down the hallway to the master bedroom, Hannah found herself hoping that she’d be able to afford the rent.
“It’s huge!” Hannah gasped as they stepped inside the master bedroom. “There’s room for a king-size bed, a dresser, and even an easy chair with a table.”
Delores walked over to look out the window. “It has a nice view of the pine trees in the distance and the planter below. You can see the building on the other side of the planter, but it’s not intrusive.”
Hannah walked across the room to inspect the master bathroom. It was large with a vanity that ran along one wall and a mirror above it. There was a stool beneath the vanity that could be pulled out for anyone putting on makeup or styling hair.
“Come look at the shower,” Delores said as she opened the glass door. “It’s huge.”
“You’re right.” Hannah began to smile. She wouldn’t have to be careful about bumping her elbows when she washed her hair in the shower.
They exited the master bathroom and went back into the bedroom, where Delores opened the set of double closet doors that exposed the master closet that covered one entire wall. “Do you like this place, Hannah?”
“I love it. But how much is the monthly rent? I have to make sure that I can afford it.”
“It’s not as inexpensive as a two-bedroom at The Oaks.” Delores named a new apartment complex in the opposite direction. “But you’ll be getting a lot more. I know someone who lives in The Oaks and it’s closer to town, but it’s noisy because a lot of young singles live there. This complex is farther from town, but it’s quiet and it’s fairly secluded. And it has a lovely view of the pines and the surrounding countryside.”
“You’re right, Mother. The Oaks is right next to the highway, and this complex is further away. But the big question is, can I afford it? I don’t even know how much money is left in my college fund. And what am I going to do if The Cookie Jar doesn’t bring in enough money to take over the rent when my college money runs out?”
Delores smiled at her. “I’m going to tell you what your father would have told you. I’ve heard him give advice to other people who were starting a business. All you have to do to make The Cookie Jar a success is to sell good products and believe in them. It’ll be slow at first and you mustn’t fall into the trap of biting off more than you can chew. Open your coffee shop and sell cookies and coffee. That’s all you have to do. Just concentrate on selling coffee and cookies, and make a profit that way. You can branch out later if you have time and the energy to do it.”
“Dad always said not to spread yourself too thin.”
“Yes, he did. And your father was a wise man.”
“And you’re wise, Mother,” Hannah told her.
“Thank you, dear. Your father told me all this when I wanted to start an antique shop in town.”
Hannah was puzzled. “But you didn’t open an antique shop.”
“No, I decided that I didn’t have enough product and I had to buy more antiques before it would be worthwhile. And I was having so much fun collecting things, I never got around to actually opening any kind of business.”
“Do you think you’ll ever want to open a shop like that?”
“I don’t know. It’s a possibility. And your father told me exactly how to do it. I learned some important things from him over the years.” Delores reached out to pat Hannah’s shoulder and then she turned around. “Now, let’s go talk to Al and find out exactly how much this place costs and when you can move in.”
Chapter Twelve
Hannah stood back to look at her partially stocked pantry. She’d bought only bare necessities at the Red Owl and she planned to order flour, sugar, eggs, and other products in bulk once she actually opened for business.
The next item on her to-do list was to learn how all the existing appliances operated and test them to make sure they were in good working order. She brought in a chair from the front room and pushed it over to the stainless-steel work island. Then she opened the instruction manual for the industrial oven and sat down.
The chair was a bit too low to be comfortable, and Hannah reminded herself to find stools that were the right height. She flipped the manual open and began to read. The instructions were written in English and she was thankful for that. She’d read operating instructions that appeared to have been translated from a foreign language and they had been so convoluted that they were completely undecipherable.
Once she’d familiarized herself with the instructions, Hannah went to the walk-in cooler to retrieve one of the extra-large metal mixing bowls that were on one of the shelves inside. Then she went to the pantry to find the ingredients she needed to bake Cashew Butter Blossom Cookies.
Hannah had decided to use a stackable series of small and large bowls that she’d found in the cupboard, and she’d washed them in the sink. There were at least two dozen of them and when Michelle and Lisa came to join her, she’d ask them to read the manual for the dishwasher, stock it with the metal mixing bowls she hadn’t yet washed from the shelf in the walk-in cooler, and run a load of dishes and utensils.
All the ingredients she needed for the Cashew Butter Blossom Cookies were in a grocery bag she’d set on the counter. Hannah carried it to the workstation, along with the clean mixing bowls, and the set of measuring cups she’d also hand washed in preparation for mixing up a test batch of cookies. She had her favorite mixing tool too, a large wooden spoon that had belonged her to great-grandmother. When she baked cookies in volume for The Cookie Jar, she’d use the industrial mixer. But right now, when she planned to bake her first test batch, she didn’t want to take the time to look for the attachments, wash them, and learn how to use the mixer.
Hannah added the sugar and the salted butter to the bottom of the metal mixing bowl. She’d left the butter out on the work island to soften and all she had to do was unwrap it. She added the cashew butter she’d purchased at the grocery store, placing it on top of the butter in the bowl. Then she used her great-grandmother’s spoon to mix them together. Two teaspoons of vanilla extract came next, and she stopped to spray her measuring cup with nonstick cooking spray before she measured out the molasses. Once those were stirred into the butters in the bowl, she added the baking soda, baking powder, and salt.
Unfortunately, Florence hadn’t carried chopped cashews at the store, so Hannah had bought them whole. She opened a can, got out a clean chopping board, and chopped them herself with one of her favorite knives.
Once the cashews had been added to the mixture in the bowl, Hannah used a whisk she’d purchased to beat the eggs. She added them to the mixing bowl, mixed them in thoroughly, and opened the sack of all-purpose flour.
She measured the flour, adding it in increments to her bowl, adding it to her other ingredients. She’d learned from past mistakes that if she let all of the flour sit on top of the other ingredients before she attempted to mix it in, not only would the flour tend to fly out of the bowl when she stirred it, but it would be doubly difficult to achieve a smooth mixture.
When her dough was thoroughly mixed, Hannah smiled in triumph. Now all she had to do was preheat the oven, ge
t out the chocolate star-shaped candies she’d found in Florence’s candy aisle, shape the cookies on the cookie sheets that she would line with parchment paper, top them with one of the chocolate stars, and bake them.
Hannah covered her mixing bowl with plastic wrap and walked to the oven. She had placed the manual on a nearby counter, opened to the correct page, and she read the instructions a second time. Then she opened the oven, hung an oven thermometer on one of the revolving shelves so that she could make sure that the oven was calibrated correctly, and reclosed the oven door.
“Here goes nothing,” Hannah said aloud as she turned the knob to the ON position to make the racks revolve. Then she pressed the red button to ignite the gas.
There was a whooshing sound from inside, and Hannah smiled in relief. It was the same sound her mother’s gas fireplace made when it ignited. The oven was operating just as the manual had said it would. Now all she had to do was wait for the light in the center of the temperature indicator to go on and her oven would be preheated.
While Hannah waited for the oven to preheat, she began to shape the cookies. She had completed only two sheets of cookies before the oven beeped to show that it was at the proper temperature.
Hannah opened the oven door. One glance assured her that the oven had reached and was maintaining the proper temperature. The oven heated fast and that was a good thing. It meant that she could bake first thing in the morning if she mixed up the batches of cookie dough before she left for the day and kept them in the walk-in cooler overnight. She shut the oven door again and hurried back to the workstation to shape the rest of the cookies.
“So far, so good,” she said, even though there was no one around to agree with her. She worked rapidly, forming round cookies and topping each with a chocolate star. As soon as she completed enough cookie sheets to fill the revolving shelves, she carried the cookie sheets to the bakers rack that Alex and Veronica had left. The bakers rack had multiple shelves and it was equipped with wheels so that it could be easily rolled to any location in the kitchen. It would be a real step saver and Hannah promised herself that the next time she made cookies, she’d wheel it over to the workstation to receive the filled cookie sheets and then wheel it to the oven.