The Recipe Box

by Sandra Lee

  “I’ve already started working on the plans,” Claire enthused. “Of course, we’ll coordinate the landscaping with the terrace plantings of the Book Nook, so we’ll have a synergistic effect. The idea will be to have a tree-lighting and a naming ceremony at Christmas. We’ll have an evergreen and icicles theme, with thousands of lights and a candle-lighting in the park. I’ll frame the porch and doorway of the Book Nook with the same treatment, and we’ll tie it all together.”

  “We’re renaming it—the Book Nook Barn,” Ken said. “Let’s just hope we open the doors for the 3F. Grace is just planning an opening day bake sale. Then we can work together on the gazebo.”

  “Well, I have even more wonderful news!” Claire clasped her hands in front of herself like a little girl at show-and-tell, beaming. “To kick things off, we’ll have a raffle at the dedication event, and Von has also generously offered to donate the prize! The winner will be invited to be Von’s guest on a cruise on his boat—have you seen the pictures? It’s beyond fabulous! I will insist on chaperoning! It’s so wonderful that even though he’s so successful, Von hasn’t forgotten his American family—isn’t it, Gracie?”

  Grace nodded imperceptibly. It wasn’t easy keeping her expression unreadable as Claire raved on happily about Leeza’s Gazebo, but she tried. “Yes. Wonderful.” But Grace felt conflicted. As much as she loved Leeza and as much she’d like it to be wonderful, having Von suddenly involved in a project right across the street was not so simple for her.

  What was it about Labor Day in Wisconsin that caused the weather to turn overnight? Grace wondered. One day you went to sleep sweating, and a week later there was a slight snap in the air and a dry rustle of birch leaves. Pulling on her jeans to drive Emma to her first day of school, Grace could feel it in the air when she looked out her bedroom window. But who was that outside the house, in biker leathers and helmet, on a motorcycle? It looked like Mike’s motorcycle, but he would not be going to the first day of school in a biker outfit. “Emma?” She called down the stairs. “Who’s outside?” Grace buttoned her blouse as she came down the stairs. Lorraine emerged from the master bedroom, pulling a robe around her.

  The bathroom door burst open and Emma came out, hair flat-ironed and fully dressed, except for her boots. Luckily, it had cooled off enough for her carefully prepared outfit. “I don’t know, Mom. None of the kids I know rides a motorcycle.”

  “I don’t like strangers sitting in front of my property,” Lorraine said, frowning. She had her cell phone in her hand and was ready to summon the police.

  “Maybe he’s got a delivery,” Grace said. “He looks like a delivery man, or a messenger.” She walked to the front door and cracked it open. “Hey! Can I help you?” she yelled. The motorcycle guy swung a leg over the seat and started toward the door. Halfway up the walk, he pulled off his helmet and shook out his hair.

  “Jaxon?” Emma peered out from the doorway, incredulous.

  “Oh!” gasped Grace. It was Jaxon Kerrig, the star of The Lost Ones. The kid who made the heart of every girl under the age of eighteen melt like sugar in a cotton candy machine was striding up their front walk. “Mom,” she said to Lorraine, “this kid is the star of the vampire show Ken and I worked on.”

  Lorraine pulled her robe tighter and squinted toward the walkway. “What’s he doing here?”

  “I may be wrong—maybe he got lost on his way to the Hollywood Freeway—but I think he’s come to take Emma to her first day of high school.”

  Jaxon gave a salute in Emma’s direction. “Hey, Em! Hi, Grace. When does school start? We don’t want to be late. I have absolutely no idea where I’m going, Emma—you’ll have to navigate.”

  “Jaxon! This is so cool!” Elated, Emma ran out barefoot to give him a hug.

  Lorraine had made cinnamon buns the night before for the food pantry, and coffee was already on, so they sat around and had breakfast together.

  “I had a network visit in Chicago,” Jaxon said, biting into a cinnamon bun. “Wow. This is so good, you should bottle it. I went to Northwestern for a year before I got cast on The Lost Ones, and when it’s over, I’m going back. They’ve got a great theater department, Emma. A little plug there. Anyhow, it was just a quick flight up here, and I’d promised Emma. My parents always taught me, never break a promise.”

  “You have good parents,” said Lorraine as she refilled his cup.

  “Yeah, we’re from Omaha.” He looked around the kitchen. “This reminds me of our kitchen. This, and being here with your family. Emma, you’re lucky—it’s so much better than Hollywood. Forget the red carpet. This is what everybody wants. This is the bomb.” Jaxon carried his plate to the sink, rinsed it, and placed it carefully in the dishwasher.

  Now I see why he’s a star, thought Grace. This is no vampire, Jaxon’s a well brought-up kid who can talk to anybody and has values. Kudos to his parents in Omaha. Grace knew what it took.

  “Ken copped the motorcycle for me. If it’s OK with you, we’re working this into a segment they’re doing on me for Hollywood Close-Up. That’s who got the plane.” He spotted a crumb of cinnamon bun on the counter and popped it into his mouth. “Ouch, stop me now. If I gain any weight, they’ll fire me. It’s in my contract—vampires don’t get fat.”

  Emma let Halo out of his cage and told Jaxon about the blog. She took a picture of Halo on Jaxon’s shoulder to post. “How did the End of Summer thing wind up?” Emma asked.

  “Record year.” Jaxon took a last gulp of coffee. “It was great that you came and brought that amazing D.J. I’ve told a lot of my friends about Suki; they should get some gigs. But listen, the producers told me they’re getting e-mails and fan mail for Halo. We’re going to have to get you guys back for a guest shot.”

  “Cool! What do you say, Halo?”

  “God bless America!”

  “He’s very patriotic,” Emma quipped, as if she bantered with TV stars every day.

  Emma grabbed her backpack, and they were off. As she watched the motorcycle roar off with Emma holding on to Jaxon, Grace felt like she was looking into the future, a time when things would be different, and young men would pick Emma up for real dates, and she felt a twinge because she was not taking her little girl herself to the first day of high school. But she had to get real: If it was Mom versus TV star, she wasn’t going to get the votes.

  When her cell phone rang as she was checking her e-mail for messages from LA a few minutes later, Grace knew it would be Mike, reporting in from the school. “So that was your motorcycle?”

  “Guilty as charged. Ken was the mastermind. He didn’t want to disappoint Emma, and neither did Jaxon. At the last minute, it worked out with his schedule, so he came. I was sworn to secrecy, in case it didn’t work out. Wait a minute, I see them now. Oh, it’s not just them!” He started laughing. “You should see this.”

  “What’s so funny? Tell me!”

  “There’s a local TV van with a video crew trailing them. OK, three guys are jumping out with equipment.”

  “That must be the Close-Up crew.”

  “Whatever, the word is out, a crowd of kids is gathering. Emma’s taking her helmet off… and now Jaxon’s walking her through the crowd, right up to the school door. Well, there’s an entrance you don’t see every day at New London High!” He paused. “Wow! He just gave her a kiss on the cheek, and the photographers are going wild. Emma kept her cool, though. That girl is something. She just went inside, but he’s signing some autographs. He seems like a good kid to do all this. Oh-oh, a girl just pulled up her T-shirt and asked him to autograph her stomach. I’d better get over there.”

  “OK, Ken’s on the other line.”

  “Grace, I’m across the street from the high school watching this, our girl is a star.”

  “I can’t believe you arranged all this, Ken. It’s just over the top!”

  “I’ve never broken a promise to my goddaughter, and I’m not about to start now.”

  “Honesty is in the air.”

/>   “Somebody has to set an example! Besides, it’s good business. Roberto’s buddy produces Close-Up. He arranged the whole video thing, and they got the plane. The pitch was: showing the human side of the vampire kid. It’s genius, don’t you think? I hope you didn’t mind the surprise. We weren’t sure until the last minute if it would all come down, but I don’t want Lorraine to die of shock.”

  “She didn’t even have a clue who Jaxon was, but he loved her cinnamon buns, so she was delighted. Thank you.”

  “Gotta hop, the windows have arrived. You better get over here, it’s a madhouse.”

  After Lorraine headed out for the church office, Grace was left alone in the house. It was funny how everything looked different now. How the same kitchen that had been so depressing now looked warm and welcoming. How the ratty, dusty attic was now a soft, enveloping space. How her old room was now Emma’s lair. Only her mother never changed, Grace thought. Lorraine was always a constant, no matter what storms swirled around her. Grace had once seen that as unfeeling and unresponsive, but now she realized that her mother had always been her rock. In staying the same, she had allowed her daughter and granddaughter to evolve. Lorraine’s little nest of a household, tucked under the wing of the solidly Midwestern New London, may not have been LA or Chicago, but it was what it was—always true to itself. And that solidity is what had saved them.

  That night, as the three Holm-D’Angelo women sat down to dinner, there was so much to talk about. Jaxon had blown away everybody at school, but there were a few kids who were posting tweets that the whole thing with the Close-Up crew was too Hollywood. Emma was too excited to care. The much-anticipated show choir list had been posted, and Emma was on it. Rehearsals began immediately, and there was scheduling and transportation to plan. Grace made a list of parents she could call for carpooling. Lorraine was the new hero of her bridge club, who were big fans of Carrie Flannery and The Lost Ones. Who knew? Ken and Tim were hosting a wrap party later for the crew, before they flew back to LA, and Grace and Mike were going to stop by.

  In honor of the day, which was the start of so many things, and because there was so much going on and almost no time to cook, Lorraine had made a dish that took almost no time. Grace remembered it from growing up, because it also cost almost no money, and funds had always been tight.

  “Actually, this recipe is a Swedish-Wisconsin hybrid,” Lorraine explained to Emma as she demonstrated so that next time, Emma could make it herself. “I adapted this recipe from something my mother made. It uses sausage, so we can just use almost any Wisconsin sausage, or even brats. And the other ingredients—tomatoes and chives are in our garden this time of year, and we always have eggs, so there you go. Thirty minutes and three key ingredients, and you’re done. Toss a little salad, and it’s a nice dinner. Emma, grab some fresh tomatoes and chives from the garden out back, would you?”

  The casserole was a hit, although Emma skipped most of the meat and seemed compelled to ask if brats were officially a food group in Wisconsin, to which the answer from both Grace and Lorraine, in chorus, was, “Yes.”

  Even Halo chimed in: “OMG!”

  The wrap party for the LA crew was bittersweet. Grace was glad that Mike was there, holding one hand, as Emma held the other, because more than once she thought she might start crying. She was thrilled for Tim and Ken, who were like proud parents showing off their new baby, but she also knew that the completion of the new Book Nook Barn meant saying good-bye to her colleagues from LA. They would be leaving in the morning to return to their lives and their jobs. As she walked through the group, stopping to hug Roberto, kiss Tim, and pose for pictures and a video with Claire and David, Grace felt incredibly proud of all they’d accomplished in such a short time. There was still work to be done, but it was mainly the cosmetics. The reclaimed barn wood gave the space unique warmth and a kind of instant history. The wood had gone from giving shelter to framing life. Clusters of people chatted on stools and secondhand chairs. Ken had slipcovered them with burlap and sturdy canvas, and tonight they were covered by sheets and tarps. But dozens of candles flickered, casting dancing shadows on the rough-hewn beams. The books had yet to be arranged in their shelves, but the warmth of the place shone through. “You did it,” Grace whispered to Ken.

  KORVLADA

  Serves 4 to 6

  1½ pounds bratwurst sausage

  1 tablespoon soft butter

  8 Roma tomatoes, peeled, seeded and coarsely chopped

  8 large eggs

  1 cup heavy cream

  Salt and pepper

  3 tablespoons chopped chives

  1 cup shredded provolone cheese

  Preheat the oven to 350°F. Butter a 2-quart baking dish.

  Remove sausage meat from casings and brown it in a skillet. Drain the fat and put the cooked sausage into the bottom of the prepared baking dish. Sprinkle the tomatoes evenly over the top of the sausage meat. Whisk the eggs with the cream, salt, pepper, and 2 tablespoons of chives. Pour over the tomatoes and top with cheese. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes or until set in the middle. Let rest for 10 minutes and sprinkle with remaining chives before serving.

  NOTE:

  • Almost any sausage will do.

  • Use finely chopped scallions if you don’t have chives, or use another herb, such as basil, sage, or parsley.

  • If your tomatoes aren’t ripe, use green tomatoes—just chop them into smaller pieces.

  • Any cheese will do: Use Muenster or mozzarella in place of the mild provolone, or try a sharp cheddar.

  “No, we did it,” he said, pouring Mike a glass of white wine. “You know, the fire was a blessing in disguise. It allowed us to create something for ourselves.”

  Ken and Tim would start remodeling the apartment upstairs next, but they planned to take their time with that. The important thing was that the Book Nook Barn was ready to open for business. Tim clinked on a glass to make a toast. “I’d like to thank everyone here who was so helpful to the rebirth of this store,” he said. He listed each and every person by name, ending with Ken. “And finally, to my partner in this shop, and in life—Ken. We all know that Ken is a magician, and he has brought magic not only to this town, but to my life. Ken, you are a very special person.”

  It was clear from the look on Ken’s face, Grace thought, that he would not have been so proud if he had received an Academy Award. Ken had, at last, found his place in life. How fortunate he was, Grace thought, remembering the young, uncertain boy from all those years ago. How far he’s come, turning rejection into triumph, really owning his choices and his life.

  Later that night, after all the lights were out and her daughter and mother were asleep, Grace lay upstairs in the Cloud and thought about the past weeks and the weeks ahead. School had begun, and she had to get back to her online work. It was so easy to get lost in a to-do list or use it as an excuse. Grace was facing a week with a hundred things to do, but she really had only one important thing on her to-do list, the same thing that Leeza had reminded her of in her last and final note.

  Emma. She meant to be home when Emma got home from school. To never miss a show choir performance. To attend every PTA meeting. To have dinner with her daughter as often as possible. She would do all the things she’d meant to do in LA, but hadn’t. It was important to Emma. But it was, perhaps, Grace thought, even more important to herself.

  “What are you doing, Mom? Are you going to cook something for tonight?”

  Grace was sitting at the kitchen table with the recipe box in front of her. It was Sunday morning and the house was quiet, anticipating the day. Lorraine had already left for the food pantry to get a jump on the week, and the house smelled of her cinnamon buns. “Sit with me, Em,” she said. She opened the box and started taking out the cards, spreading them across the tabletop.

  Emma slid out a chair and sat across from her. Halo was tucked into the hood of her sweatshirt, like a feathered papoose, sartorially surveying the scene.

  Emma eyed her warily.
Grace could tell Emma was worried about what her mother might say next.

  “Emma, you know what I told you about Uncle Carl. And we’ve talked about that. What I didn’t tell you about is you.”

  “Me?” Emma’s eyes opened wide. What more was there to know?

  There was nothing to do but come right out with it. “When I was in high school, I dated your dad for years.”

  “I know.”

  “But there was a time senior year when things weren’t going so well, and we broke up.”

  “OK…”

  “It wasn’t for long, but I started going out with Von Vasser.”

  That got her attention. “You! Went! Out! With! Von?”

  “Yes, I did. He was Leeza’s cousin, and he was a very exciting guy. Very exotic for New London, a person from another world. He still is.”

  “Wow. You and Von.” She laughed. “You might have ended up on the deck of a yacht, Mom.”

  “It’s possible. But it wasn’t that simple, because, you see, I got pregnant with you. I’d much rather have you than a yacht.”

  For a split second, Emma sat stone still, and Grace could see her mind trying to take this in. Then she just blurted it out. “Is Von my father? Dad’s not my father? Are you saying that nobody is anybody’s father around here?” Emma looked like she was going to burst into tears. “Is anything real?”

  “You’re real, and I’m real, and your dad, Brian, is real. To tell you the God’s truth, Emma, I don’t know for sure who your biological father is—Brian or Von. There was never a scientific test.”

  Emma leaned over intently. “I know how to get one online. I’ve seen them advertised on the Web, Mom. We have to know. What if Von is my father? Oh my God, oh my God!”

  “You are the only person I have told about this, except for Aunt Leeza. Even Grandmother L. doesn’t know. This is a secret that’s just for us.”