Final Sentence

by Daryl Wood Gerber

  I raised my juice glass higher and said, “To my wonderful new life.”

  After I rinsed my breakfast dishes, I found the courage to call David’s mother and ask how she was doing. Fine, she said. She hoped I liked Crystal Cove. David often told her that I might return to my roots. How had he known?

  Around 9 A.M., I dressed in the cheeriest outfit I owned and, with Tigger for company, drove to work. Although the Winnebagos had been towed from the parking lot, Pepper Pritchett didn’t look very pleased. She paced in front of Beaders of Paradise, arms locked across her chest, and glared at the string of people—more than one hundred—streaming out of The Cookbook Nook.

  I exited my VW bug and searched for a route where I could avoid her detection. I didn’t want her to spoil my upbeat mood. I stopped when I spied my father hustling along the boardwalk toward Pepper. He said something as he moved near. She scowled and shook a fist. He spoke again. She mouthed a few words. Dad responded. How I wished I could be a fly on one of the nearby columns so I could listen in. Dad reached for her. Pepper backed up and lowered her chin. She scuffed the boardwalk with the toe of her sandal. My father uttered what seemed to be a speech. He reached out, and this time, Pepper didn’t resist. He squeezed her arm. She looked up, offered a weak smile, then turned on her heel and marched into her shop. Too-ra-loo, as my aunt would say.

  I entered The Cookbook Nook, and as I passed the throng of customers, I heard chatter about Aunt Vera having foreseen something terrible happening at my cottage. Had all the people come to have their fortunes read? I spied my aunt at the vintage kitchen table predicting a curly-haired woman’s future, but the queue didn’t lead to her. The line snaked to the back of the store.

  Katie swooped toward me with a platter of mini cinnamon rolls. “Coming through.”

  I stopped her. “What’s going on?”

  “Hoo-boy, do we have a surprise. Your pal Rhett invited Chef Tory Fellows—you know, of Liaison fame—to make an appearance.”

  Liaison, a fabulous San Francisco restaurant, had become the training ground for many celebrated chefs. How did Rhett know such a famous guy?

  “He’s so handsome,” Katie went on. “Look at me. I’m swooning.” She freed a hand from the platter and fanned herself. “Can you tell I’m swooning? I’m his biggest admirer.”

  I couldn’t catch a glimpse of the chef through the throng, but I had seen his photograph in the Liaison: An Intimate Look cookbook. He was handsome with an engaging smile.

  “If I had only known he was coming,” Katie gushed. “I would have made sure I had the ingredients for cracked pepper crab soup. Did you know that’s what Liaison is known for?”

  I didn’t.

  “How do I look?” Her toque was atilt, but her face was flushed with sheer bliss.

  “Radiant.”

  “Yeah, right, if I lost thirty pounds, shrank six inches, and straightened my hair.”

  “He’s married, isn’t he?”

  “I don’t know. Is he?” Giggling like a schoolgirl, she joined the line of customers.

  I scooted around them and caught sight of Chef Tory, who sat behind a table at the rear of the store. A rebellious thatch of blond hair fell across his forehead, making him look like a bad boy, the kind mothers warned you about. A stack of Liaison: An Intimate Look sat on the floor as well as the tabletop. Rhett, who was standing to the chef’s right and looked equally bad boy with that rakish grin of his, chatted up the patrons in line.

  “Hey, you.” Bailey approached and bucked me on the shoulder. “Your aunt told us what went down last night. I’m so proud of you.”

  I cleared my throat, the fear of last night’s encounter not quite quelled. “Where did we get all of the chef’s books?” Last I counted, we’d only had a couple in the stockroom.

  “Chef Tory brought them with him. We’re selling on consignment. Isn’t that great? Ca-ching.” Bailey drew me into a hug and whispered, “At some point, after the furor dies down, we need to talk.”

  “What’s up? This time, tell me everything. Are you sick, or is my aunt right? It’s man trouble.”

  Bailey cut a quick look at Aunt Vera.

  “Blab now,” I ordered.

  “I thought I was pregnant.”

  “Preg—” I felt like an idiot. Why hadn’t I picked up the signs? She had clutched her stomach; she had passed on an alcoholic beverage; she had grown testy when she mentioned people she had left behind in San Francisco; she had given up a lucrative career to move in with her mother.

  “But I’m not, thank heavens.” Bailey flicked a shoulder-length earring without conviction. “Not that I don’t want to be at some time in the future, but not now. Not from him.”

  “Him who?”

  “H-I-M.”

  I mouthed: Your boss?

  “What a cliché, right? Married. Twice my age. Ugh. Anyway, the doctor said it was just a false positive caused by stress and—” Bailey gasped. “Shh.”

  I gazed where she was looking. Her mother, in a turquoise outfit complemented by oversized turquoise jewelry, came into the shop.

  “Mom doesn’t have a clue,” Bailey said.

  “You’ve got to tell her.”

  “I will.” Bailey pinched my arm then moved to Lola and air-kissed her. “Hi, Mom, isn’t this place great?”

  My father entered seconds behind Lola and made a beeline for me. His face was etched with concern and something more—despair. “Jenna, what did you think you were doing, battling a madman?”

  “Dad, stop. I couldn’t have prevented what happened. I didn’t lure the killer to my place.”

  “If you hadn’t snooped around—”

  “You know why I snooped, and if I hadn’t, the case might have gone unsolved.”

  He started to speak, but I pressed my finger to his lips and said, “I love you, too. Now tell me what you and Pepper were talking about.”

  “You don’t have to worry about her maligning you in the future. All she wanted was a real apology from me. I never gave her that courtesy.”

  “I’m proud of you.”

  “And I’m proud of you.”

  Recipes

  From Jenna:

  I adore cookies. This recipe (from my pal Desiree) requires that you form the dough into crescent shapes. Whoopee! Now we’re talking. I loved Play-Doh as a kid, and I loved to sculpt when I was in college. Making these cookies is all about having fun. Let the child in you party.

  Mexican Wedding Cookies

  (makes 30–36 cookies)

  1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature ½ cup confectioners’ sugar, plus more for coating baked cookies

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  1¾ cups all-purpose flour

  1 cup almonds (or pecans), chopped into very small pieces water, if needed

  Preheat the oven to 275 degrees.

  Line cookie sheets with parchment paper.

  Using an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar at low speed until it is smooth. Beat in the vanilla.

  At low speed, gradually add in the flour.

  To chop the nuts, I used my food processer. You can also use a manual food chopper—what I like to call a whackah-whackah—or you can also put them in a baggie and smash them with a meat tenderizer hammer.

  Mix the nuts into the butter mixture with a spatula.

  For each cookie, take out about 1 tablespoon of dough and shape into a crescent. Dust hands with flour, if necessary, as you make more cookies.

  Place the cookies onto prepared cookie sheets. Bake for 40 minutes. When the cookies are cool enough to handle, but still warm, roll the cookies in additional confectioners’ sugar to coat.

  Cool entirely before eating. Store in an airtight container.

  From Katie:

  Hoo-boy, do I love these cookies. They are not crisp, so don’t expect that. They are chewy, moist, and filled with good things. I’m a major fan of dolled-up pancakes. That’s what inspired me to make these cookies. Syrup. To shake up the flavor or
give the cookies the “Ragtime” feel of fun, I added the chocolate and raisins. You can even add in chopped dates. Enjoy.

  Maple Leaf Rag Cookies

  à la Katie

  (makes 3–4 dozen cookies)

  For Cookie:

  ½ cup butter

  ½ cup brown sugar

  2 eggs

  ¼ cup maple syrup

  ½ cup sour cream

  ¼ cup water

  3 cups flour (If using gluten-free flour, add ½ teaspoon xanthan gum.) ½ teaspoon baking soda

  ½ teaspoon salt

  1 cup chocolate chips or raisins (or mixture) For Glaze:

  ½ cup butter

  2 cups confectioners’ sugar

  2 teaspoons maple syrup

  2–4 tablespoons milk (I use 2.)

  Heat the oven to 375 degrees.

  Cream together the butter, sugar, and eggs.

  Add in the maple syrup, sour cream, and water, and blend well.

  In a separate bowl combine the flour, soda, and salt; then gradually add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients, stirring until well combined.

  Gently stir in the chocolate chips and/or raisins and/or dates.

  Drop the dough by rounded tablespoons onto ungreased cookie sheet, leaving about 2 inches between cookies. Press with fingers or the back of a spoon to flatten the dough.

  Bake 8–10 minutes, until light brown.

  Remove to a cooling rack (or paper towels) and allow cookies to cool completely.

  Meanwhile, make the glaze. Heat the butter until it begins to change color (light caramel); then remove from heat and allow to cool completely.

  Using a whisk, stir in the confectioners’ sugar and maple syrup. Gradually add the milk until the glaze is the desired consistency.

  Spread the glaze over the cooled cookies.

  Note: If you want to do something fun and wind up with a delicious toffee candy, make the icing all by itself. Same ingredients. Cook on medium heat to a full boil. Stir constantly for 8–10 minutes. It will bubble and froth. Pour the candy onto a sheet of wax paper (laid on top of a cookie tray). Let stand until completely cool. Break into pieces.

  From Aunt Vera:

  Oh, how I adore making cookies. I love time-intensive cookies, the kind I can sink my hands into. Hands, as you might have figured out, have great meaning to me. They are the symbolic equivalent of power and balance. With your hands, you can make delicious foods as well as bring comfort. These biscotti, which I have chosen to make gluten-free because one of my dearest friends cannot eat wheat, are a wonderful combination of textures and the perfect accompaniment to a good cup of coffee or tea. (I have made these same cookies using regular flour. Just substitute regular flour for the sweet rice flour and tapioca starch. You won’t need the xanthan gum, a magical ingredient for gluten-free bakers.)

  Gluten-Free Orange Chocolate Biscotti

  (makes 30–36 biscotti)

  1 cup sweet rice flour

  ¾ cup tapioca starch

  ½ teaspoon xanthan gum

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  ½ teaspoon baking soda

  2 eggs

  ¾ cup granulated sugar

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  ¼ teaspoon orange extract

  ½ of an orange, grated zest

  2 tablespoons fresh orange juice

  1 cup semisweet chocolate chips

  Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Put the racks in the upper and lower thirds of the oven.

  Note: This recipe takes no time to put together, but the dough takes a long time to bake.

  Line a cookie sheet with foil or parchment paper, or you can grease the cookie sheet.

  In a small bowl, mix the gluten-free flours (do not tamp down), xanthan gum, salt, and baking soda. Set aside.

  In another bowl, mix the eggs, sugar, vanilla, and orange extract. Over the top of the bowl, grate the orange zest. Add the orange juice. Mix in the gluten-free flour mixture. Then stir in the chocolate chips. The mixture will be cookie-dough consistency—gooey.

  Scrape the batter, in 2 skinny lines, the full length of the cookie sheet, leaving 3 inches between lines. Use a spatula to clean up the strips. If necessary, rinse the spatula with hot water.

  Put the cookie sheet on the lower rack and bake for 15 minutes. Turn the pan front to back and bake another 20 minutes until golden brown. Remove the pan and cool on a rack for 15 minutes. LEAVE THE OVEN ON.

  Using a spatula, transfer the baked strips to a cutting board. Using a serrated knife, slice the loaves on a diagonal—about ½-inch wide slices. Place the cookies on their narrow sides to “stand,” this time on an unlined cookie sheet, at least ½-inch apart. Bake for 20–25 minutes, until golden brown. If necessary, rotate the pans halfway through the baking process so the cookies are evenly baked.

  Cool the biscotti completely before storing. These may be kept in an airtight container for a few weeks. They are fabulous dipped into a cup of coffee.

  From Jenna:

  This is the recipe I found in my stash of recipes from Katie. Oh, yum! It requires seven ingredients but it’s not difficult at all, other than I had to be careful when I was grating the cheese (knuckles are precious). When it came to the part about cutting with cookie cutters, I thought, Yeah, right. I went with Katie’s easy suggestion (see below) and rolled and cut. I don’t need pretty; I need tasty.

  Savory Cheese Cookies

  (makes 30–36 cookies)

  4 ounces butter, softened

  1 cup flour

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  ½ teaspoon salt

  1 tablespoon sugar

  1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

  1 cup shredded Cheddar cheese (4 ounces), at room temperature 1 teaspoon water, if needed

  Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

  Cut the butter into the flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, and cayenne pepper. Mix in the cheese.

  Chill. Roll onto a board using a rolling pin (and a dusting of extra flour to keep the mixture from sticking).

  Cut with cookie cutters. (Note from Katie: To make this easier, roll out the dough and cut into a checkerboard. This makes square cookies.)

  Place the cookies on an ungreased cookie sheet.

  Bake the cookies for 8–9 minutes, until lightly browned.

  Serve with jam, if desired. The jam cuts the spiciness.

  From Jenna:

  One of Katie’s favorite serving tips is to put candies alongside cookies on a cookie platter. She says the eye is drawn to the variety of shapes. These little beauties (another from my friend Desiree’s cookbook) are the easiest things in the world to make. I like Tootsie Rolls, but I also adore chocolate and peanut butter. Especially the chunky kind. And when I need a quick pick-me-up, one will do. Peanut butter has lots of protein, right? That makes me feel like this is almost a “healthy” snack. I have to admit that I wasn’t so sure about paraffin. I mean, I’ve used that to make candles. But in Desiree’s book, she assures the reader that paraffin is used in all sorts of things, like canning and such. You sure can’t taste it.

  Chocolate Peanut Butter Crisp Bonbons

  à la Desiree

  (makes 24–30 candies)

  1 cup peanut butter

  2 cups powdered sugar

  ½ cup butter, softened

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  1 cup chopped Rice Krispies

  1 (12-ounce) package dark chocolate chips

  2 tablespoons paraffin

  Beat together the peanut butter, powdered sugar, butter, vanilla, and Rice Krispies (gluten-free, if needed).

  Form into small balls, smaller than walnuts, and place on a tray lined with waxed paper.

  Set the tray of balls in the refrigerator while preparing the chocolate chips.

  Melt the chocolate and paraffin in the top of a double boiler, or in a saucepan set over another larger saucepan, the bottom pan half-filled with hot water (not boiling).

  Remove the balls from the refrigerator. Reshape them so they
are smooth and round, which is much easier to do now that they are cold. Dip the bonbons in chocolate mixture. (Super tip: Use 2 forks to handle the balls. This makes them easy to turn when coating. Even I could do it.) Return the bonbons to the waxed paper. Cool completely.

  Store in an airtight container.

  TURN THE PAGE FOR A PREVIEW OF DARYL WOOD GERBER’S NEXT COOKBOOK NOOK MYSTERY . . .

  Inherit the Word

  COMING SOON FROM BERKLEY PRIME CRIME!

  I CLAMBERED DOWN THE ladder in the storeroom of The Cookbook Nook, carrying a stack of cookie cookbooks in my arms. My foot hit something soft. I shrieked. Tigger, a kitten that had scampered into my life and won my heart a month ago, yowled. His claws skittered beneath him as he dashed from my path.

  “Shh, Tigger. Hush, baby.” I had barely touched him with my toe. I knew he wasn’t hurt. “C’mere, little guy.” I arrived at the floor, knelt down, and spied him hunkering beneath the ladder, staring at me with his wide eyes. “It’s okay,” I cooed. As I scooped him up, one-armed, and nuzzled his neck, I felt a cool stream of the unknowable course its way up my spine. Tigger was a ginger-striped tabby, not a black cat, so passing beneath a ladder wasn’t a bad omen, was it? Why did I suddenly feel like seven years of bad luck was lurking in the shadows?

  “Miss Jenna, yoo-hoo,” a girl squealed. “Miss Jenna, come quick!”

  Fear ticked inside me. We had invited children to The Cookbook Nook for a cookie-decorating event—my Aunt Vera’s idea. She was a master cookie baker herself, with an extensive personal collection of cookie cookbooks. Had one of the children gotten hurt? Was that the dark cloud I’d sensed in the storeroom? I raced into the shop and skidded to a slippery halt in my flip-flops.

  “Look at my killer shark.” The girl with frothy orange hair was standing beside a tot-height table in the children’s corner, brandishing a deep blue, shark-shaped cookie.

  Nothing amiss. Kids being kids. No one hurt. Thank the breezes, as my mother used to say.