by Joanne Fluke
Hannah pushed the plate of cookies closer to her sister. A few more calories wouldn’t hurt Andrea’s perfect figure, and it might make her feel better. “It does sound like a real tragedy.”
“Absolutely,” Andrea agreed, reaching for a cookie. “Christmas is for families. No child should have to spend the holidays at boarding school.”
“Oh, that’s not the tragedy. Spending Christmas vacation at school is bad, but kids can survive something like that. Spending Christmas vacation without dessert is the real tragedy!”
“You’re right.” Andrea took a bite of her cookie and smiled her approval. “So you’re going to bake desserts for Julie and the kids?”
“Of course. Was there ever any doubt?”
“Not really. Thank you, Hannah. I knew you’d come through for me. You remember Julie, don’t you? We were on the cheerleading squad together.”
“Of course I remember her. She was the only girl who could do five cartwheels in a row without getting dizzy.”
“That’s right. I really hate to ask, but could you run the cookies out to the academy this morning? Julie said the kids were really depressed when their friends left this morning and they need something to cheer them up. I’d do it myself, but I’m showing the old Goetz place at noon today.”
Hannah was surprised. Andrea was a great real estate agent, but the Goetz place had been vacant for a year and it was practically falling down. “But the Goetz place is a real dump.”
“Never say dump. Real estate professionals call a house like that unloved.”
“Unlovable is more like it.”
“Maybe to you, but these people are interested. So can you go out to the school with the cookies? Or should I take them later?”
“Hannah can take them,” Lisa said. “The baking’s done and the coffee’s on in the shop. I don’t have to open for another twenty minutes, and that gives me plenty of time to fill the serving jars and set up the tables.”
Hannah wavered. She really wanted to see Julie again. “Well . . . if you’re sure . . .”
“I’m sure. And while you’re there, see if you can talk them into ordering apple crisp.”
* * *
Julie must have been watching for her to arrive. When Hannah pulled up in the circular driveway of the school in her cookie truck, the front door opened and Julie stepped out. Hannah rushed to meet her and gave her a hug. “Hi, Julie. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Yes, I have.” Julie ginned widely. “See? No braces.”
“That’s true. So where are these poor little tykes who’ve been left without dessert?”
“Next door at Aames House. We thought separate dorms would be too lonely, so we’re all staying there together. The kids are in the lounge, watching a movie with Matt.”
Hannah went on alert as Julie said her fellow teacher’s name. There was a slight breathless quality to her voice that turned the name into something approaching a vocal caress. Hannah was willing to bet the farm that whoever Matt was, he was more than just a fellow teacher.
“Who’s Matt?” Hannah asked, preparing to listen for more vocal clues. Her cat, Moishe, could swivel both ears independently to pick up every nuance of sound, and for the first time in her life, Hannah wished she had that ability.
“Matt’s the teacher who’s staying with the boys. I’m taking care of the girls.”
“And Matt is . . .” Hannah paused, trying to figure out how to phrase it. Everyone always accused her of having no tact. “Young? Handsome? Unmarried?”
Julie gave a little chuckle and her cheeks turned pink. “He’s three out of three.”
“And you didn’t really mind giving up your Christmas vacation as long as Matt was staying here too?”
Julie gave the type of smile that Hannah associated with Moishe, right after she’d presented him with a bowl of vanilla ice cream. “I don’t mind at all,” she said.
“And Matt doesn’t mind either?” Hannah guessed.
“I don’t think so. He’s marvelous, Hannah. Tall, handsome, bright, caring, and absolutely great with children.”
Hannah just grinned. It was clear that Julie had fallen harder than a novice ice-skater for Matt. She just hoped that Matt felt the same way about Julie.
“Andrea called and said you were bringing cookies. Do you want me to help you carry them?”
“Good idea.” Hannah opened the back door of the cookie truck and loaded Julie up with three bakery boxes. She took the other two boxes, closed the truck door, and followed Julie to Aames House.
“Let’s take them straight to the lounge,” Julie said, leading the way down the long hallway with a spring in her step that reminded Hannah of a colt frolicking in a green pasture.
“We have to stop at the kitchen first. I brought dessert for tonight and it needs to go into the refrigerator.”
“What is it?” Julie gave a little skip that made Hannah laugh.
“Lemon meringue pie. You used to always ask me to bake it when you were in high school.”
“You remembered!” Julie looked delighted. “It’s still my favorite, Hannah. And it’s on the list, because I chose it for my dessert. Nobody makes it like you do.”
When they reached the large kitchen, Hannah headed straight for the refrigerator to stash the pies on a shelf. Then she glanced around at the gleaming appliances and nodded. “Nice kitchen. It’s arranged just right to be really efficient.”
“Is it?” Julie frowned slightly. “I really wouldn’t know. Kitchens are still unexplored territory to me.”
“What do you do when you’re home alone? Go out to dinner every night?”
“No, that’s too expensive. Teachers aren’t exactly rolling in money, you know. I fix meals for myself, but if it doesn’t come in a package with microwave directions, I don’t buy it.”
“I figured as much,” Hannah said, remembering that Andrea and Julie had tied for the bottom of the class in home economics.
“Come on, Hannah.” Julie started for the door. “I really want you to meet Matt. I’m hoping . . . well . . . I guess I might as well tell you.”
Hannah was silent, even though she thought she knew what Julie was about to say. Her sister’s cheerleading buddy was blushing again.
“I think Matt might be Mr. Right. I’m pretty sure he feels the same way, but teaching full-time is a demanding job and there’s not much time for dating. This is the first time we’ve ever had the chance to be alone together.”
“You’re not alone here,” Hannah couldn’t help pointing out.
“I know that. We’ve got six chaperones, but the kids go to bed early. And then Matt and I have the whole rest of the night together.”
“Really?”
Julie gulped and her already pink cheeks turned scarlet. “I didn’t mean it that way!”
“Of course not,” Hannah said, holding back a chuckle with real effort.
“Anyway, I really want to know what you think of Matt. I spent so much time with Andrea while I was growing up that you’ve always been like a big sister to me. Mom and Dad aren’t here, so . . . you’ll tell me what you think of him, won’t you?”
“Absolutely,” Hannah said, hoping that Matt would be everything Julie thought he was and she wouldn’t have to deflate the only Jordan High cheerleader who’d ever been able to do a flip from the top of a five-person pyramid and land on her feet smiling.
LEMON MERINGUE PIE
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
One 9-inch baked pie shell
The filling:
3 whole eggs
4 egg yolks (save the whites in a mixing bowl and
let them come up to room temperature—you’ll
need them for the meringue)
½ cup water
cup lime juice
⅓ cup lemon juice
1 cup white (granulated) sugar
¼ cup cornstarch
1 to 2 teaspoons grated lemon zest
1 tablespo
on butter
(Using a double boiler makes this recipe foolproof, but if you’re very careful and stir constantly so it doesn’t scorch, you can make the lemon filling in a heavy saucepan directly on the stove over medium heat.)
Put some tap water in the bottom of a double boiler and heat it until it simmers. (Make sure you don’t use too much water—it shouldn’t touch the bottom of the pan on top.) Off the heat, beat the egg yolks with the whole eggs in the top of the double boiler. Add the ½ cup water, lemon juice, and lime juice. Combine sugar and cornstarch in a small bowl and stir until completely blended. Add this to the egg mixture in the top of the double boiler and blend thoroughly.
Place the top of the double boiler over the simmering water and cook, stirring frequently, until the lemon pie filling thickens (5 minutes or so). Lift the top of the double boiler and place it on a cold burner. Add the lemon zest and the butter, and stir thoroughly. Let the filling cool while you make the meringue.
The meringue (This is a whole lot easier with an electric mixer!)
4 egg whites
½ teaspoon cream of tartar
teaspoon salt
¼ cup white (granulated) sugar
Add the cream of tartar and salt to the egg whites and mix them in. Beat the egg whites on high until they form soft peaks. Continue beating as you sprinkle in the sugar. When the egg whites form firm peaks, stop mixing and tip the bowl to test the meringue. If the egg whites don’t slide down the side, they’re ready.
Put the filling into the baked pie shell, smoothing it with a rubber spatula. Clean and dry your spatula. Spread the meringue over the filling with the clean spatula, sealing it to the edges of the crust. When the pie is completely covered with meringue, “dot” the pie with the flat side of the spatula to make points in the meringue. (The meringue will shrink back when it bakes if you don’t seal it to the edges of the crust.)
Bake the pie at 350 degrees F. for no more than 10 minutes.
Remove the pie from the oven, let it cool to room temperature on a wire rack, and then refrigerate it if you wish. This pie can be served at room temperature, but it will slice more easily if it’s chilled.
(To keep your knife from sticking to the meringue when you cut the pie, dip it in cold water.)
Chapter Three
“That went well,” Julie said, giving a huge sigh of relief. “The kids didn’t even seem to notice that I used sour cream instead of mayonnaise in their tuna salad sandwiches.”
Matt squelched the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her on the tip of her nose. There were times when Julie reminded him of a wayward elf. Of course she didn’t look like an elf. Far from it!
He’d noticed Julie the moment she stepped out of her car on the first September morning of classes. She’d been wearing a brown tweed suit that was meant to be subdued, but it had done nothing to detract from her figure. She’d been perfectly sedate as she’d walked around her sensible black compact car and opened the trunk to take out her suitcase. But when she’d set it down on its wheels on the sidewalk and closed the truck, she’d done something that had struck a chord in his bachelor heart. She’d glanced around, decided that no one was watching, and put her hand on the handle of the rolling travel case. Then she’d danced the first few steps of the number Gene Kelly had done when he’d partnered the lamppost in Singing in the Rain.
That was the beginning of their relationship, Matt decided. He adored her spontaneous sense of fun. One day, after her class had left for the afternoon, he’d found her spinning merrily away in her desk chair, humming the theme from Carousel. And that was another thing that he found so pleasing. Julie liked the same classic movies that he liked. She could quote whole sections from Desk Set, and they’d found themselves reciting Tracy–Hepburn dialogue from three different movies last night under the pine trees.
Once Julie had captured his attention, he’d watched her whenever they were in a meeting together. And although she’d been perfectly circumspect around every male member of the staff, including him, Matt suspected that Julie Jansen had hidden passions. That suspicion was based on personal observation. One telling factor was the way she licked her lips right before she tasted chocolate ice cream. Another was the way she dug into a piece of pepperoni pizza on the rare occasions Mrs. Dryer served it at a late-night staff meeting. The third factor, the one that had proven his theory beyond a shadow of a doubt, was the way she’d responded to his kiss last night.
Matt smiled just thinking about it. And then he did his best to put the memory completely out of his mind and concentrate instead on straightening the pile of napkins that were stacked on the counter. He was supposed to be supervising the kids while Julie put the cookies in a basket. If he continued to think about kissing Julie, they could have a food fight right in front of his nose and he wouldn’t even notice.
Something was going on. Matt saw Serena move a little closer and accept a package wrapped in napkins from the two younger girls. They contained sandwiches, no doubt. He’d warned the kids about Julie’s mistake, and they’d promised to clean their plates anyway. Matt suspected that this was the way they intended to do it, because Serena passed her package to Spenser and he stacked it on top of the one he’d taken from the younger boys. Then he stood up and headed toward the restrooms in the hall. Matt hoped he’d tear the sandwiches into small enough pieces before he flushed them. It would be embarrassing for Julie if they had to call the plumber to fix a commode plugged with tuna sandwiches.
“Earth to Matt,” Julie said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “I asked you three times if you wanted to pass around the cookies.”
“Sorry,” Matt said, picking up the basket Julie had lined with paper napkins.
“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what you were thinking about. You looked like you just heard the best joke in the world.”
“Close,” Matt said and left it at that. There was no way he was going to tell Julie that her sandwiches might even now be surfing in the sewer. “What time do you think we can get the kids to bed tonight?”
“Uh . . . well . . . regular bedtime is nine, but the older kids get to stay up to read or watch television until ten.”
“Meet you in the living room at ten-thirty,” Matt said, feeling as if he’d just arranged a forbidden tryst. Of course that was ridiculous. Once the kids were in bed, all they had to do was be available in case of an emergency.
“I’ll be there right after I get the girls settled for the night. Are we going to discuss activities?”
“Oh yes,” Matt said, putting on his best guileless smile and hoping she couldn’t guess the activity that was foremost in his mind.
* * *
“Oh good! Matt wants apple crisp,” Lisa said, glancing down at the list of desserts that Julie had given Hannah. They’d just closed for the night and were sharing a last cup of coffee before Herb came to pick her up.
“Why are you so happy he wants apple crisp?”
“Because I just found Grandmother Herman’s recipe. I’ll make two double batches of it tonight, and you can take it out there for tomorrow night’s dessert. They can warm it up in the oven and serve it with ice cream.”
“Perfect. I’ll pick up some vanilla to go on top.”
Lisa shook her head. “Get cinnamon instead. It’s even better that way.”
“Does the Red Owl have cinnamon ice cream?”
“Sure. Florence always stocks it over Christmas.”
“Why does she stock it for Christmas?” Hannah asked, trying to figure out what cinnamon ice cream had to do with Santa and Christmas.
“They use it in Hot Candy Canes,” Lisa explained.
“What are those?”
“They’re drinks that Hank serves down at the Lake Eden Municipal Liquor Store.”
“You’ve had one?”
“No, but Herb told me about it. Hank mixes hot coffee with peppermint schnapps in a big mug, and then he tops it with a scoop of cinnamon ice cream. He sticks in a candy cane for a
stirrer, and it’s really popular over the holidays. Herb said it brings in more revenue for the town than his parking tickets do in a whole year.”
“Got it,” Hannah said, jotting a note to stop by the Red Owl before Florence closed and pick up some cinnamon ice cream. Then she made a second note to fight like a Tasmanian devil if anyone ever tried to talk her into tasting anything called a Hot Candy Cane.
Lisa glanced back down at the list. “Somebody wants blueberry muffins? They’re not exactly a dessert.”
“I know, but one of the twins is crazy about them. I think it was Larry, but it could have been Gary. They’re identical. How about the strawberry shortcake for Serena? Do you have any strawberries in your greenhouse?”
“Not right now. But you can use frozen, can’t you?”
“Sure. We’ll need two days to make it. My Pound Plus Cake needs to age that long.”
Lisa glanced down at the next item on the list. “Fudge cupcakes should be easy. You can use the recipe you made up for Beatrice Koester.”
“Right. And the peach cobbler’s no problem. We’ll bake our special Minnesota Peach Cobbler.”
“Christmas sugar cookies are easy, and we certainly know how to make cherry cheesecake. What recipes do we have to punt on?”
“Punt?”
“You know what I mean. The ones where we’re out of options and all we can do is hope everything turns out all right.”