by Joanne Fluke
“Do you have time to go with me, Hannah? I’d really appreciate it.”
“I guess,” Hannah said, a bit reluctantly. There was something afoot, but she couldn’t think of what it could be. “I’m catering coffee and dessert at the St. Jude Society prayer meeting, but I should be back here by one.”
“That’s perfect, dear. Norman’s got an eleven-thirty appointment and he should be free by then.”
“Norman’s going?”
“Yes, dear. He wants to take another look at the place before they tear it down.”
“But if Norman’s driving out there anyway, why don’t you ride with him?”
“We’d rather ride with you, dear.” Delores sounded a bit uncomfortable and she cleared her throat. “You’ve got such a nice big truck and Norman says there’s quite a bit of artwork on the walls. I thought we could pack that up and bring it back with us.”
Hannah grinned in sudden understanding. Delores wanted her for the cargo space in her cookie truck. She thought about refusing. Her truck was not a moving van. But it was a small thing to ask and she did want to take a look at the property that Norman had bought.
“Okay. I’ll call you when I get back here and we’ll go pick up Norman. Tell him to expect us about one-fifteen.”
“I’ll do that, dear. I’m sure he’ll want to show you all around and discuss the new house while I’m tagging the antiques. Who knows? If the timing is right, something might just happen.”
Hannah was grinning as she hung up the phone. Not only had she identified her mother’s primary motive, she’d found a second. Delores hoped that if she threw Hannah together with Norman, he might propose. Hannah didn’t think that would happen, but it was a nice try on her mother’s part.
It was ten o’clock and Hannah was manning the cash register when she spotted Mike’s Jeep pulling up in front of her shop. Her heart began to hammer and her insides turned to mush as he got out and strode toward the front door. With a start, she realized that the mug of coffee she was holding was sloshing and she set it down quickly before any of her customers could notice. Mike always had this effect on her. It was as if she’d received a jolt of electricity that made her tingle all over.
The door to The Cookie Jar opened and Mike walked in. He looked determined, like a man on a mission, and Hannah watched his eyes rove over the customers that lined the tables in her small shop. When he spotted her behind the counter, he strode up to her quickly. “We need to talk.”
“Okay. What is it?”
Mike shook his head. “Not here. Let’s go in the back and send Lisa up here.”
The switch was accomplished with a minimum of fuss and Hannah motioned to a stool at the workstation. “Sit down, Mike. Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“No. Am I too late, Hannah?”
Hannah glanced at the clock. “Actually, you’re early. Andrea said you’d be in about noon.”
“Not that! Am I too late?”
“Too late for what?” Hannah asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Don’t play games with me, Hannah. Bill told me all about Norman’s new house.”
“Oh, that!” Hannah did her best not to smile as she met Mike’s eyes. He was jealous, pure and simple. The green-eyed monster had sunk its claws into the most handsome man in Lake Eden. Of course Mike didn’t have any reason to be jealous, but he didn’t know that, and Hannah was enjoying his discomfort too much to tell him quite yet. “Is there some reason why Norman can’t build on that property?”
“Not that I know of.”
“But you seem upset.”
“Of course I’m upset! I was only gone for three days and when I come back, I find out that Norman’s building your dream house!”
“It’s our dream house,” Hannah corrected him. “Norman and I designed it together.”
“Then you’re going to marry him?” Mike asked, clenching his fists.
“No,” Hannah said, knowing that she’d milked Mike’s jealousy for all it was worth and any more would be cruel. “Norman’s just building the house, that’s all. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
Mike exhaled with an audible whoosh and Hannah could see that he was relieved. “But that house is too big for Norman, isn’t it?”
“Four bedrooms, three baths.”
“That’s what I mean. What’s he going to do with all that room?” Mike began to frown. “Do you think he’s going to ask you to marry him when it’s finished?”
Hannah laughed. “If I knew that, I’d set up a hotline and rake in the cash as a telephone psychic.”
“What if he does? Will you say yes?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you can’t!”
Hannah’s heart jumped up into her throat. Was Mike about to propose? And how would she feel about it if he did? “Why can’t I?”
“Because you’d never be happy with Norman. Promise me you’ll tell me right away if he asks you.”
“What good will that do?”
“I don’t want to get blindsided. Promise me, Hannah.”
“I promise,” Hannah said. What else could she say? She didn’t like to see Mike looking this miserable.
“Then everything’s still status quo with us?”
“Status quo,” Hannah repeated, beginning to smile as she wondered what that was, exactly.
Mike got up from his stool and pulled Hannah to her feet to give her a hug. “I don’t want to change anything. Everything’s great just the way it is.”
And then Mike kissed her. It was a long, sweet kiss that was just beginning to kindle into a blaze when Hannah heard someone open the back door.
“Hannah? I just wanted to ask you about…” It was Andrea and she stopped abruptly as she saw what she’d interrupted. “Sorry. I’ll come back later.”
Mike motioned Andrea in. “That’s okay. I was just leaving. If you see Bill before I do, tell him I’m going home to take a quick shower and put on a fresh uniform. I’ll catch up with him at the station after lunch.”
“What was all that about?” Andrea asked after Mike had left.
“Nothing much.” Hannah shrugged, leaving it at that. “What did you want to ask me?”
“It’s about Tracey’s costume.” Andrea eyed the cookies that were cooling on the baker’s rack. “Are those Almond Kisses?”
“They’re for my catering job, but I baked extras.”
“Then I can have a couple?”
“Of course.” Hannah watched as Andrea grabbed three cookies. “What were you saying about Tracey’s costume?”
“I need to know what kind of shoes the Statue of Liberty wears.”
“Really big ones,” Hannah quipped, but Andrea didn’t look amused. “I think it’s sandals, but I’m not positive.”
“How would I find out?”
“Run down to the library and look it up in the encyclopedia. There’s bound to be a picture.”
“Good idea. I asked Janice Cox, but she wasn’t sure either. I’m going to dress Tracey up as Lady Liberty. Won’t that be cute?”
“Tracey would be cute in any costume.”
“I know, but she really wants something with a crown. Is she right-handed?”
“Probably,” Hannah said, assuming that Andrea was asking about Lady Liberty and not her daughter. “The torch goes in the right hand, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re not going to put Tracey in green makeup, are you?”
“No. The green’s just tarnish anyway. I wonder why they don’t polish her up. She’d look a lot better.”
“That’s easier said than done. Remember when that citizens group got the idea to clean the dome on the county courthouse? They dropped it in a hurry when they found out it would take three years and cost a fortune.”
“Time and money. They’re always the deciding factors. I’d better run, Hannah. I’m short on time this morning, and I’ll be short on money if I don’t get out to CostMart in time for their white sale. I’m picking up new towels for the bathroom
. Ours are practically in shreds. Is there anything you need while I’m there?”
“Thanks, but I can’t think of anything I…” Hannah stopped speaking as her neck gave a twinge. She reached up to rub it and sighed. “There is one thing. Remember when we went shopping last year and I bought that new pillow?”
“The goose-down?”
“That’s the one. I need a second pillow just like it.”
Andrea’s eyes narrowed. “But you already have one. Does that mean you’re contemplating…uh…sleepover company?”
“No, it just means that Moishe keeps stealing it. And every time he does, I wake up with a stiff neck. I’m going to give him mine and get a new one for myself.”
“You really ought to train him not to do that.”
“That’s impossible. Cats train their owners, not the other way around. It took Moishe a whole year, but he’s trained me to buy a new pillow.”
Andrea laughed. “Okay. I’ll pick one up for you, but it might be expensive. The last time I priced them, they were over fifty dollars.”
Hannah sighed. She’d forgotten that goose-down was that expensive. She didn’t really want to shell out an extra fifty dollars, but it would be worth it for a pain-free neck. “Just get it, whatever it costs. I can spend fifty dollars for a pillow, or I can spend fifty dollars for a chiropractor. At least with a pillow, I won’t have to go back for another adjustment.”
Almond Kisses
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.,
with rack in middle position.
1 ½ cups melted butter (3 sticks)
2 cups white sugar (granulated)
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon almond extract
1⁄8 cup molasses (2 tablespoons)
1 ½ teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt (if you use salted almonds, cut the salt to ½ teaspoon)
1 ½ cups finely ground almonds (grind them up in your food processor with the steel blade—they don’t have to be blanched)
2 beaten eggs (just whip them up with a fork)
4 cups flour (no need to sift)
13 oz. bag Hershey’s Kisses (or small squares of milk chocolate)
Microwave the butter in your mixing bowl to melt it. Add the sugar, the vanilla, the almond flavoring, and the molasses. Stir until it’s blended, then add the baking soda, baking powder and salt. Mix well.
Grind up the almonds in your food processor. Measure after grinding. Add them to the bowl and mix. Pour in the beaten eggs and stir. Then add the flour and mix until all the ingredients are thoroughly blended.
Let the dough firm up for a few minutes. Then form it into walnut-sized balls and arrange them on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a standard sheet.
Cut the Hershey’s Kisses in half (from the top down, so that each half has a point and a base). Press the halves into the middle of your cookie balls, cut side down. They’ll look pretty on top as a yummy decoration. If you want to splurge a little, press a whole Hershey’s Kiss into the center of the dough ball, base down and point sticking up. (If you do splurge, you’ll need double the amount of Hershey’s Kisses. If your kids help you unwrap the Kisses, you should probably triple the amount!)
Bake at 350 degrees F. for 10 minutes, or until the edges are just beginning to turn golden. (Don’t worry—the Hershey’s Kisses won’t melt.) Cool on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes and then remove to a wire rack to finish cooling.
Yield: 10 to 12 dozen cookies, depending on cookie size. (If that’s too many, just cut the whole recipe in half. And if you have any Kisses left over, the baker deserves a treat!)
(Norman says these cookies taste the way he always wished marzipan would taste.)
Chapter
Five
“T his is a nice location,” Hannah commented, stopping her truck as close to the front door as she could get. “You can see the lake from here.”
“You’ll be able to see it even better when I prune the bottom branches on those pines.” Norman hopped out of Hannah’s truck and opened the door for Delores.
“It’s a nice little house,” Delores said, taking Norman’s arm and heading for the front door. “It’s almost a pity to tear it down, but I suppose it’s much too small for you with only two bedrooms. Once you make the smallest one into an office, there’s no room at all for…”
“Houseguests,” Hannah interjected quickly, shooting her mother a warning glance. Now was not the time to fish around for a proposal.
“Yes, guests.” Delores looked slightly embarrassed. “Well, I’ll go straight to work. I don’t want to keep you two out here all afternoon.”
Norman opened the front door. “I’d better turn on the lights so you can see better. The windows are small and it’s fairly dark inside.”
“The electricity’s still on?” Hannah was surprised. She’d assumed that Rhonda had turned it off to save the expense.
“I told Rhonda to switch it over to my name. I’ll have it turned off on Saturday morning before the demolition crew gets here.”
When Hannah stepped inside the house, she was pleasantly surprised. She’d expected to be assailed by the clouds of must and dust that inevitably gathered when a house was unoccupied, but the only odor she could detect was lemon-scented furniture polish. “It’s so clean in here!”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t bother to change clothes.” Delores glanced down at the pale yellow dress she was wearing. “Andrea told me that Rhonda had a cleaning woman.”
“What for? There hasn’t been anyone living here since Mrs. Voelker died.”
“I know, but the house wasn’t selling and Andrea thought it might show better if it was cleaned. You know how some people are. They can’t see past the dust and the cobwebs. Rhonda didn’t feel like doing it herself, so she hired a cleaning lady. Come on, Hannah. We’ll start in the living room and work our way through to the back.”
The living room was cluttered with furniture and artwork, but with all three of them working, it didn’t take long. Hannah put red tags on the furniture and artwork that Delores indicated, and Norman packed the smaller items in boxes.
The guest room didn’t yield much for Granny’s Attic, just a handmade patchwork quilt that Delores thought she could sell, but the master bedroom was a different story. Delores chose two Maxfield Parish prints and an old wooden rocking chair. Then she pointed to the quilt on the bed. “I’d like to take that.”
“Why?” Hannah asked. She was almost sure that the quilt was machine-made, the type that anyone could buy from a mail-order catalogue. “It’s not an antique, is it?”
“No, but Reverend Strandberg can use it for the homeless shelter.”
Hannah agreed and pulled the quilt from the bed. But instead of a bare mattress similar to the one they’d found in the guest room, this bed was complete with sheets, pillowcases, and a blanket. “I wonder why Rhonda kept this bed made up? Do you suppose she stayed out here sometimes?”
“I doubt it, dear. Why would she want to stay way out here when she has an apartment of her own? The cleaning woman probably made it up by mistake.”
“Do you want the rest of the bedding for Reverend Strandberg?” Norman asked, holding one end of the quilt while Hannah folded it.
“Yes. And if there’s a linen closet, I’ll take whatever’s there. I think I’m through in here. Let’s tackle the kitchen.”
“Why don’t you two go ahead,” Norman suggested. “I’ll load up the artwork and join you as soon as I’m through.”
Hannah was the first to enter the large farm-style kitchen and what she saw made her stop cold. “That’s one of my pie boxes on the table!”
“You’re right. I wonder how long it’s been here.” Delores marched past her, lifted the lid on the distinctive box Hannah used for pies, and stepped back with a startled exclamation. “Yuck!”
“My pies are yuck?”
“They are when they’re covered with ants.”
Hannah w
alked closer, peered inside, and made a face. It was one of the lemon pies she’d baked on Friday. Only one piece had been eaten and the rest was crawling with an endless line of small black ants that were industriously carting away the sweet pastry. “You’re right, Mother. This pie is ant fodder. I’ll dump it in the garbage.”
“Here, Hannah.” Delores walked over with a plastic garbage bag she’d found in a box under the sink. She held it open near the edge of the table and motioned to Hannah. “I’ll hold the bag. You slide the box off the table, dump it inside, and carry it out.”
“Yes, Mother,” Hannah said obediently, resisting the urge to giggle. Delores was treating her like a backwards child, but the plan was a good one and to object would be petty. Once the box was safely transferred to the garbage bag, Hannah carried it to the back door and took it outside.
Two garbage cans sat on a cement slab next to the old garage. Hannah peeked in the garage window, hoping to see an antique car up on blocks, but the interior was completely filled with fireplace wood. She’d have to remember to tell Norman about that. There was enough wood in Mrs. Voelker’s garage to carry him through several winters. All he had to do was move it to another location before they tore down the garage.
Hannah held her bag at the ready and lifted the lid on the garbage can. She expected it to be empty and she was surprised to see several items in the bottom of the plastic liner. There were two Styrofoam boxes with see-through plastic lids, the kind used for restaurant takeout dinners. One dinner was partially eaten and the other looked untouched. Both were osso buco, one of Hannah’s favorite entrées. She recognized it by its distinctive marrowbone. Rhonda must have ordered takeout on the night she packed up the last of her great-aunt’s effects and since there were two containers, it was obvious she’d expected someone to join her for dinner.