by Joanne Fluke
“Whatever,” Hannah said, restraining the urge to laugh. “How about your butter?”
“Butter doesn’t get lumps!”
“I know that. I was just asking if you had some.”
“We’ve got tons of butter. Grandma McCann won’t let us buy anything else. She says butter is better for us than those artificial substitutes that don’t taste like butter anyway.”
“She’s probably right. How about slivered almonds?”
“No, I don’t have any of those.”
“Then I’ll bring them. Your oven works, doesn’t it?”
“It did last night. Grandma McCann made a hamburger hotdish for dinner.”
“Good. When you hang up, put on the coffee pot. I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”
“Hannah?”
The receiver was only inches from the cradle when Hannah heard her sister’s far-away voice calling her. She stopped her forward motion and brought the receiver back up to her ear. “I’m here.”
“I forgot to thank you. It’s really nice of you to drop everything and come over here, just because I need you. You’re the best big sister in the whole world.”
“My program’s over,” Tracey announced, racing into the kitchen. “Hi, Aunt Hannah. I didn’t know you were here!”
“Your mom said you were watching something for summer school, and I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
“It was a KCOW-TV special, and Mrs. Chambers wanted us to see it tonight. It was all about the Kensington Runestone, and we’re going on the bus to see it tomorrow.”
“What did you learn from the special?” Andrea asked, and Hannah could have applauded. Asking Tracey to talk about what she’d just seen would help to fix the details in her mind.
“They said the Kensington Runestone used to be out in the open, but it was moved to the Runestone Museum in nineteen fifty-eight.”
“And you’re going to the Runestone Museum?” Hannah asked.
“Oh, yes. Part of the program was about the museum and they’ve got lots of things to see. There’s a Minnesota wildlife exhibit, and a place where you can learn about early pioneer life, and a hands-on children’s exhibit. At least that’s what they said. I don’t think so, though.”
“You don’t think so about what?” Andrea asked her daughter.
“The hands-on children’s exhibit. It never is, you know. The minute you start to touch things, somebody comes over and says to just look not touch, and to stay behind the ropes.”
“So you’re going to spend most of your time at the museum?” Hannah asked.
“Mrs. Chambers said we’ll be there for about an hour. That’ll give us time to see the log cabins, the one-room school, the doctor’s office, and all the Indian stuff. And we’re going to have fifteen minute to buy something in the museum gift shop.” Tracey stopped speaking and turned to her mother. “Can I tell Aunt Hannah a secret?”
“Sure,” Andrea gave her permission. “I’ll just run up and check on Bethie.”
Tracey waited until her mother was gone and then she stepped closer, almost as if she were afraid her mother was listening outside the kitchen door. “I’m going to buy Mom a Kensington Runestone coffee mug with the money Daddy gave me.”
Hannah reached in her pocket and drew out some bills. She was sure the money Bill had given Tracey was for her to buy something for herself. Instead Tracey was spending it on Andrea, and that kind of generosity deserved to be rewarded.
“Here, Tracey,” she said handing her the bills. “I want you to buy something for yourself.”
A grin spread over Tracey’s face. “Thanks, Aunt Hannah! I’m going to get a Viking helmet.”
“A purple one with white horns?”
“No, Aunt Hannah!” Tracey giggled, and Hannah knew that she was delighted. “I’m going to buy a real Viking helmet, the kind they used in the thirteen hundreds to plunder and pillage. Big Ole wears one.”
“Who’s Big Ole?” Hannah asked, although she knew the answer.
“He’s a twenty-eight foot high statue of a Viking.”
Hannah put on her most innocent expression. “I didn’t know they had statues of football players in Alexandria.”
“No! He’s a real Viking. They named the football team after the real ones, not the other way around.”
“Right,” Hannah said, smiling.
“Anyway…after we leave the Runestone Museum, we get back on the bus and go to Kensington Park. That’s where Olaf Ohman’s farm used to be. And that’s where he found the Kensington Runestone in eighteen ninety-eight.” Tracey took a step closer and lowered her voice. “They think it’s a fake, but Mom doesn’t know. And the scientists haven’t made up their minds yet for sure, so I’m not going to tell her until they do.”
“That seems wise.”
There was the sound of footfalls coming down the hallway. A moment later, Andrea walked into the kitchen. “She’s sleeping like an angel,” she reported, and then she turned to Hannah. “I still don’t know how you did it. She was so fussy with that runny nose. But somehow you managed to put her right to sleep.”
“Mom?” Tracey spoke up. “It’s not bedtime for me yet. Can I sit here and watch while you and Aunt Hannah make what I’m taking on the bus for a snack?”
“No,” Hannah said before Andrea could answer, and she laughed as both Andrea and Tracey stared at her in surprise. “You can’t sit here and watch, Tracey. I want you to help us make it.”
“You want me to help?” Tracey looked thrilled at the prospect.
“Absolutely. You can start by spraying that disposable roaster on the counter with Pam.”
Tracey frowned. “All we have is the other stuff. Mrs. Evans was out of Pam when Grandma McCann took us to the Red Owl.”
“That’s okay. Any nonstick cooking spray will do.”
Tracey went to the cupboard next to the stovetop and took down a can of spray. She carried it to the counter and sprayed the inside of the disposable roaster that Hannah had brought with her.
“Is this going to get heavy?” Tracey asked, returning the spray to the cupboard.
“Not too heavy, but it still might be a good idea to support the bottom by setting it on a cookie sheet.” She turned to Andrea. “Do you have an old cookie sheet we can use?”
“I think so,” Andrea said, but she didn’t make a move to find one. Hannah got the feeling that her younger sister wasn’t really sure where any cooking utensils or supplies were kept in her own kitchen.
“I’ll get it,” Tracey said, walking over to the oven and pulling out the drawer under it to reveal a stack of cookie sheets. “Do you want me to preheat the oven while I’m here?”
“Good idea. Set it for three hundred degrees,” Hannah told her. “And once you slip the cookie sheet under the roaster, I want you to go wash your hands. It’s summer cold season, so make sure you soap them for at least twenty seconds.”
“Twenty seconds,” Tracey repeated. “I know how to tell when twenty seconds are up without using a clock.”
“You do?” Andrea sounded surprised at that revelation.
“Grandma McCann taught me. All you have to do is say, one hundred one, one hundred two, one hundred three, all the way up to one hundred twenty. It takes twenty seconds to say it that way.”
“There’s another way to do it, too,” Hannah told her. “Janice Cox told me what she does down at Kiddie Korner. Some of her kids can’t count as far as twenty, so she tells them to sing Happy Birthday all the way through twice.”
“I’ll have to tell Karen about that,” Tracey said, naming her best friend. She washed her hands, mouthing the words to the birthday song, and then turned back to Hannah. “What next, Aunt Hannah?”
“Get out a one-cup measure, and put nine cups of cereal in the roaster. You can use some from each box.”
Hannah and Andrea watched as Tracey carefully measured out the cereal. When she’d transferred nine cups to the roaster, she stepped back and turned to Hannah. “I’m r
eady for my next assignment.”
“I want you to measure out one cup of slivered almonds. They’re the nuts in that plastic bag on the counter. I think there’s one cup in the bag, but you’d better check to make sure.”
Tracey carefully measured out the almonds. “There’s just a little over one cup, Aunt Hannah. Shall I put them all in the roaster?”
“Put them all in. More nuts will be fine. And then mix everything up with those clean hands of yours.” Hannah waited until Tracey was busy and then she turned to Andrea. “What did they offer him this time?” she asked in a soft voice.
Andrea watched as Tracey dipped her hands in the roaster and began to mix up the cereal and nuts with her fingers. Then she replied, keeping her voice low. “Another ten thousand a year if he accepts by the end of the month. That’s a lot of money on top of everything else they’ve offered.”
“I’m done,” Tracey said, stepping back from the roaster and turning to Hannah. “What should I do next?”
“Go find a quarter-cup measure.” Hannah waited until Tracey had gone to search in the cabinet where Andrea had stored her measuring cups, and then she asked her sister another question. “You said there were other incentives?”
“I’ll say! If he travels, he gets five hundred a day for meals and extras. That’s a flat rate for every day he’s on the road. He doesn’t have to save receipts and invoice them when he gets back to the office.”
“That’s a real perk,” Hannah said and then she stopped talking as Tracey came up with a quarter-cup measure.
“This is right, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Absolutely. Now go find a glass measuring cup that’ll hold a pint. That’s two cups. If you can find one with a spout, that’ll be perfect.”
It was clear that Tracey was used to fetching bowls, measuring cups, and kitchen utensils for Grandma McCann, because she found the measuring cup that Hannah wanted right away. There wasn’t even time to ask Andrea another question about the incentives that Tachyon had offered.
“I’m ready,” Tracey said, waiting for her next task.
“Take a tube of frozen orange juice concentrate out of the freezer, open it, and measure out a quarter cup. Put the lid back on, seal it in a plastic freezer bag, and put the rest of the frozen orange juice back in the freezer. Then add the quarter cup of orange juice concentrate to the glass measuring cup.”
Once Tracey was engaged in her task, Hannah slid her chair a little closer to Andrea. “Did they offer anything else?”
“They said they’d fly him down there first class to take a look at their headquarters. And they offered to pay for me to come along.”
“What did he say to that?” Hannah asked, but before Andrea could answer, Tracey was back for more instructions.
“We need a quarter cup of brown sugar. Don’t use the sugar you have in the pantry. Take it from the bag I brought. It’s on the counter.”
After Tracey had found the bag and opened it, Hannah gave her further instructions. “Just dip the quarter cup measure in there and fill it up. Then pack it down until it can’t hold any more, and level it off with your finger.”
“Like this?” Tracey did as Hannah had told her. “Do I put it in the cup with the orange juice?”
“Yes. And then get out a stick of salted butter, cut it in half, unwrap the half, and add it to the glass measuring cup.”
Once Tracey was occupied with the next instruction, Andrea answered Hannah’s question. “He said he didn’t think I’d be interested in coming and I really didn’t want him to take the job. And when they asked him why, he explained that our families were here and we didn’t really want to move.”
“Mom?” Tracey called out. “Do you want me to add this leftover butter to the butter dish?”
“Yes, please.” Andrea said, and Hannah noticed that she looked impressed with her daughter’s ability to follow directions.
“But I thought you said you were afraid he was beginning to waver.”
“I did. And I think he is. I found a piece of scrap paper in the wastebasket. He was figuring out how much more take-home pay he’d make every week if he took the job at Tachyon.”
“But that doesn’t mean he’s planning to take it. Maybe he’s just curious.”
“Maybe, but…” Andrea stopped speaking as Tracey approached. “Is everything in the cup, honey?”
“Yes. What do I do with it now?”
“Heat the glass measuring cup in the microwave for one minute,” Hannah answered her. “Take it out with an oven mitt, stir it all up together and if the butter has melted, pour it over the top of the cereal and almonds.”
“How about the cranberries?” Tracey asked, pointing to the bag of sweetened dried cranberries Hannah had brought with her. “Aren’t we going to put those in?”
“Good question, but the cranberries go in after it bakes. Just stir everything up with a big mixing spoon, and then put the roaster in the oven. Close the door and set the timer for fifteen minutes.”
Hannah waited until Tracey was busy, and then she turned back to her sister. “I really don’t think you have to worry. Bill doesn’t want to move to Florida, either. His parents, his relatives, and all of his friends are here in Lake Eden. He’s Minnesota born and bred, and I really don’t think he wants to leave. Tachyon might offer him the sun and the moon, but I’m almost positive he’ll turn them down.”
“I don’t know…” Andrea looked worried. “It’s a really good job, Hannah. And he’d be one of their top executives.”
Tracey carried the roaster to the oven and placed it on a shelf. Then she closed the oven door and reached up to set the timer.
“You’re forgetting one thing,” Hannah said, giving her sister a smile.
“What’s that?”
“Bill loves you.”
Tracey turned around and came back to give her mother a big hug. “Aunt Hannah’s right. Daddy knows you don’t want to move to Florida, so he won’t take that job.”
Hannah and Andrea exchanged glances. They hadn’t realized that Tracey was listening.
“Besides,” Tracey continued, “he can’t move to Florida.”
“Why not?” Hannah and Andrea asked almost simultaneously.
“Because he likes the Vikings a whole lot more than he likes the Dolphins.”
IMPERIAL CEREAL
Preheat oven to 300 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
9 cups dry cereal
(any combination–I used Multigrain Cheerios and Rice Chex)
1 cup slivered almonds
(I’ve also used pecans and I like them better)
¼ cup orange juice concentrate
(I used Minute Maid)
¼ cup brown sugar
(pack it down when you measure it)
¼ cup salted butter
(½ stick, 2 ounces, 1/8 pound)
½ cup sweetened dried cranberries
(I used Craisins)
Hannah’s Note: The nice thing about this recipe is that you can use your choice of any dry cereal, any nuts, any frozen juice concentrate, and any dried fruit.
Place the cereal and slivered almonds in a large ovenproof bowl or a disposable roaster or steam table pan. Make sure to support the bottom with a cookie sheet if you use disposable vessels.
With your impeccably clean hands, mix the cereal and the almonds together until they’re evenly distributed.
In either a 2-cup measuring cup or a microwave-safe bowl, combine the orange juice concentrate, brown sugar, and butter.
Heat the mixture in the microwave for one minute, or until the butter has melted. Stir thoroughly.
Pour the mixture over the cereal and almonds in the roaster. Mix it all together until the cereal is evenly coated.
Bake the mixture, uncovered, at 300 degrees F. for 15 minutes.
Take the roaster out of the oven and mix in the sweetened dried cranberries with a spoon.
Set the roaster on a cold burner or a wire rack until it has cooled
to room temperature. Stir it again to make sure it’s not stuck together in big pieces. Store Imperial Cereal in a tightly covered container at room temperature.
Sally sends little packages of Imperial Cereal along with guests when they go for boat rides, hike through the woods, or take walks around the lake. She also confesses that she’s even eaten it for breakfast when she’s in a hurry.
Sally calls this snack Imperial Cereal because it’s fit for a king.
Yield: Approximately 10 cups of sweet, crunchy goodness that will be enjoyed by kids and adults alike.
Chapter Eight
She had just turned over in bed and found a comfortable position midway between two lightly snoring felines when there was a soft knock on her door.
Must be the start of a dream, her tired mind said, reaching out to gather the warm soft blanket of semiconsciousness around her once again.
“Hannah?” a voice asked, and then there was a palpable change in the air, as if someone had entered her bedroom and was now sharing the prevailing oxygen with her.
The dream wasn’t that interesting and Hannah wished she could change the channel. Unfortunately, dreams seldom responded to remotes. This one would go on, dull, flat, uninteresting, until…
“Hannah!”
The voice was louder, and despite her best intentions, Hannah opened her eyes. And there was Michelle standing close to her bed. “Huh?” she asked, surprised she could frame even that intelligent a question in the middle of the night.
But it wasn’t the middle of the night! Hannah came to that realization with a jolt. The dawn was already breaking outside her window and that meant it was almost five in the morning!
“Wha…time?” Hannah asked, pleased that she’d regained at least some of her ability to verbalize.
“Ten minutes to five. I heard your alarm go off, but then it stopped. And you didn’t get up. Don’t you have to go to work?”
“Work. Yes.” Hannah sat up and blinked several times. “Thanks, Michelle.”
“There’s coffee. Take a quick shower while I pour your coffee and dish up some pancakes for you. I made Sausage and Cheese Pancakes this time.”