“It’s the other knee, but I’m scheduled for a pain shot tomorrow. The doc said I’m a long way from needing this one replaced. So, serve the pie, toss some ice cream on top, and tell me what’s going on.” Emma had bowed to Barney several times and pretended to run away until Barney finally agreed to chase her around their indoor track: through the kitchen, down the hall past the bedrooms, into the living room, across to the dining room, and back to the kitchen only to start all over again until they both were exhausted.
Sarah sliced the pie, poured the coffee, and was scooping ice cream when the dogs finally collapsed on the kitchen floor. “Finally,” she said. “Peace and quiet.”
“Talk to me,” Sophie insisted as she scooped into her pie ala mode.
“Okay, so it’s about Ruth. Charles is on his way back from Chicago…”
“What? I thought he was going to be up there working with the police…”
“That’s what I want to explain. They sent him home. It seems the FBI has taken over the investigation, and they're being very secretive. Charles wasn’t able to find out anything.”
“Oh my. The FBI? What does this mean?” The two friends speculated but were at a loss to figure out why the FBI would get involved. “Isn’t there something about kidnapping across state lines or something?” Sophie asked.
“I think so. We’ll ask Charles. He should be home soon. So,” Sarah began, hoping to lighten the mood, “tell me about your dinner with Tim and Penny.”
“We had a splendid time,” Sophie responded with the enthusiasm of a proud grandmother. “Penny prepared this Italian meal her mother had taught her how to make. She’s really something. You know, by the time Timmy got involved, she had been doing all the cooking, caring for the house and her ailing mother – and all that in an isolated cabin without modern conveniences.”
“Her mother obviously did an excellent job of raising Penny from what I’ve seen,” Sarah said.
“I agree,” Sophie responded as a cloud of sadness crossed her face. “I just wish Betsy had told him about the baby. We could all have been there for them, and I would have known my granddaughter much sooner.”
“Betsy did what she thought was best.”
“I know.”
The two women sat in silence for a while until they heard Charles pull into the garage. Both dogs ran to the garage door barking, whining, jumping, and scratching at the door until Barney accidentally nipped Emma’s ear, resulting in the two of them rolling around on the floor in a struggle that appeared to be somewhere between a dog fight and the discovery of a delightful new game. Whatever it was, it stopped the moment Charles opened the door, and they ran to him, both wagging their entire bodies as they each attempted to keep all four feet on the floor – something Charles insisted upon.
“Come have coffee and tell us about Chicago,” Sophie said, impatient to hear the whole story.
Charles glanced at Sarah, wondering if he should talk in front of Sophie, and she immediately understood. “I’ve told Sophie what I know, which isn’t much.”
“I don’t know much more,” he responded. “Let me wash up and I’ll come sit with you. Is that apple pie I see there?”
“We saved you a sliver.”
“Only a sliver?” he asked as he turned the water on in the sink and soaped up his hands with Sarah’s sweet-smelling hand soap.
“A heart-healthy sliver,” Sarah responded, “and a double scoop of fat-free ice cream.”
“Umm,” he replied, trying to keep the promise he had made to himself not to complain about his diet. He knew his wife went to great effort to prepare healthy meals for him according to his doctor’s instructions, but it really did get hard sometimes. He felt a little guilty about the fast food breakfast he had on the road that morning, but he had decided that he would keep that to himself. Did I throw that wrapper away? he wondered as he headed toward the coffee pot.
“What’s that guilty look on your face?” Sarah asked.
“Just thinking, dear. Just thinking. Now, what have you two been talking about?”
“Sophie was telling me about her dinner with Tim last night. I think I told you that Penny was trying out a recipe that she planned to use for the party. Penny is doing all the cooking Saturday.”
“I keep hearing about this party. What’s it all about, Sophie?”
“I don’t know any more than you do. Timmy is being very mysterious, but I have my suspicions.”
“Wedding bells?”
“Perhaps,” Sophie responded, “but right now we want to hear about what’s going on up in Chicago.”
“Well, as Sarah probably told you, I got thrown out. The feds have moved in and taken over.”
“What’s going on, Charles?” Sophie frowned.
“I don’t know. The FBI won’t talk to me at all, and the detective in charge of Ruth’s case said they're very secretive with him as well. I did see a couple of guys from the U.S. Marshal’s office there, and that made me wonder…” Charles didn’t finish his sentence, and Sarah decided not to press him about it. She knew he probably realized that he was saying more than he should.
“The Marshals?” Sophie exclaimed. “Why would they be there? What’s Ruth mixed up in anyway?” Turning to Sarah, she added, “I think we need to get back in the sleuthing business.”
That got Charles’ attention. “No. Absolutely not,” he exclaimed. “You two stay totally out of this one. This is something for the professionals. I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know that none of us should get mixed up in it. Me included, for that matter.”
And he fully intended to follow his own advice. But first, he thought, I’ll give Jake a call in a few days and see what I can find out. Just to satisfy my curiosity, he assured himself.
Chapter 10
It was the day of the party.
Timothy had set up two six-foot tables in Sophie’s backyard and had a fire going in the grill. Penny had two pans of lasagna in the oven and was placing her homemade rolls on a baking sheet. Sophie and Penny had prepared an enormous antipasto platter with rolled salami, slices of pepperoni, black and green olives, mozzarella balls, artichokes, marinated mushrooms, and slivered prosciutto. The wine was chilling, and Tim was placing peppers, onions, and Italian sausage on the grill.
As the guests arrived, Sophie offered them wine and directed them to the backyard, although both Martha and Sarah stayed in the kitchen with Sophie and Penny. Emma was having a play date with Barney at Sarah’s house. Sophie thought the excitement would be too much for her dog, not to mention the temptation of all the food.
“Perfect weather for a party,” Martha was saying. She was wearing a pastel sundress with a white sweater over her shoulders. Sarah thought she saw a flicker of sadness cross her face but didn’t want to ask, at least not today. She hoped everything was okay between her daughter and Timothy.
When Jason arrived with his wife and daughter, Sarah hurried over to give her son and daughter-in-law a welcoming hug. “How are you feeling?” she asked Jennifer, remembering how much trouble she had when she was pregnant with Alaina.
“So far, I’m feeling great,” she responded. Jennifer was a petite woman in her late thirties, a few years younger than Sarah’s son. She had been CEO of an electronics firm when she and Jason married, but when Alaina was born, Jennifer had announced that she was resigning to be a full-time mother. Sarah had wondered how she’d adjust to her new life, but she needn’t have worried. Jennifer had blossomed in her new role and today her eyes were twinkling as she spoke with excitement about the birth of their son who was expected in the fall. “We’re thinking about naming him Jonathan,” Jennifer said looking hesitantly into Sarah’s eyes for a reaction. “If that’s okay with you.”
“That would be wonderful,” Sarah responded with tears burning at the back of her eyes. “Just wonderful.” Jonathan was Sarah’s husband, the children’s father, who had died when Jason was twenty-one and Martha two years younger. “I’m sure that pleases Jason
. He loved his father very much and lost him at a bad time for a boy. He needed his dad to help him with all those decisions a young man must make. I tried…”
“You did an excellent job,” Jennifer assured her, resting her hand on Sarah’s arm. “Jason is an incredible man.”
“So was his father…”
The two women embraced as Charles came into the kitchen carrying Alaina. “You two look very serious. What’s going on?”
“Girl talk,” Jennifer replied with a smile as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss her daughter’s cheek.
“Should I put the rolls in?” Penny asked Sophie. “I took the lasagnas out of the oven.”
“I think so. You can let the casseroles rest, and when the rolls are done, you can use the oven to keep everything warm until you’re ready to serve.”
“Until I’m ready to serve?”
“Sure, this is your meal.”
Penny blushed and slipped the rolls into the oven.
“Why don’t you ask your dad when the sausages will be ready.”
“Okay,” she responded as she grabbed a bottle of coke and headed for the back yard. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“She seems to be enjoying this,” Sarah said once Penny was gone.
“I know,” Sophie responded. “She told me this morning she’d like to be a chef when she grows up and work in an Italian restaurant. Her mother was Italian, and I guess that has something to do with it. Also, she taught her how to cook when she was very young.”
“You know,” Sarah began thoughtfully. “Andy’s been looking into programs for Caitlyn, and he was talking about that technical school next to the high school. High school students can take classes there as electives in their junior and senior years, and I’m sure they’d have a cooking program. That might be something Timothy could look into next year.”
“That’s a terrific idea,” Sophie replied. “I’ll tell Timmy about it. She’s only a sophomore now, but it’s something to look into.”
“Dad’s taking the sausages off now and needs something to put them in,” Penny announced as she hurried back into the kitchen.
“I’ll take something out to him so you can stay here and check on the rolls,” Sophie responded as she reached for a shallow baking dish.
Sarah watched the young girl check the rolls and carefully pull the baking sheet out of the oven wearing an oven mitt on each hand. She then turned the oven off and left the door open to cool down. When her father came in red-faced from the grill, she told him to slide the sausages into the oven to keep warm until they were ready to serve. She slipped her two casseroles in as well and set the rolls on the open door. “I’ll start rounding up our guests,” Sophie announced as she headed for the back door. “Sarah, would you bring that pile of napkins?”
One of the tables had been set for eight, with one place being taken up with Alaina’s high chair. The antipasto was sitting in the middle of the table, and everyone was asked to bring their wine glasses and have a seat. Sophie sat at one end of the table, Tim sat at the opposite end with Penny to one side and Martha to the other. Charles and Sarah sat next to Martha while Jason and Jennifer sat on the opposite side with Alaina between them. Once everyone was seated, Tim stood and asked the blessing followed by a touching toast to friends and family.
At that point, Penny stood and picked up the antipasto platter and walked from one guest to the next, offering them the opportunity to serve themselves from the tempting assortment of meats, cheeses, and vegetables. “This is an Italian Antipasto,” Penny said in a serious and grown up voice. “Anti means before and pasto means food, so it’s served before food.” Everyone praised the artistry of the dish and commented on each of the ingredients as they sampled them. Penny blushed throughout the entire course and seemed relieved to get away from the table when it was time to serve the main course.
“May I help?” Martha asked as Penny was walking toward the kitchen.
Penny hesitated, then smiled and said, “You could collect the salad plates while I get the main course.” Tim refilled the wine glasses and the friends talked and laughed as they waited for Penny to return.
When she and Martha returned, they were carrying the two lasagnas which they placed at each end of the table. They made one more trip and brought the pan of sausages grilled with peppers and onions which they sat in the middle of the table along with two baskets of rolls and a bowl of whipped butter. As they were eating and talking, Timothy suddenly started singing in an exaggerated baritone voice, “…when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie…”
“Dad!” Penny reprimanded, looking embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” he responded. “It’s Italian. Well, at least it’s someone’s interpretation of Italian. It was before your time, but it goes with the meal.”
“Ah,” Sophie interjected. “Dean Martin. I have some of his records. I’ll play them for you sometime, Penny.”
“Do you still have a record player?” Sarah asked.
“Oh. I forgot about that. Well, there must be some modern way to play his music.”
“There are more ways than you could ever imagine!” Charles chuckled as he scooped up another helping of lasagna.
An hour or so later, Timothy tried to stand up but groaned and held his stomach. “What a meal,” he said, and Penny smiled proudly. “You did good, young lady.”
“That’s not all,” she said excitedly and ran into the kitchen. She returned with a plate of raspberry tarts which she passed out as Martha removed their dinner dishes and returned with a tray of cups and the coffee pot.
“This was incredible, Penny,” Sarah remarked as she savored the last bite. “Did you make these tarts yourself?”
Penny looked embarrassed for a moment but began telling Sarah what her mother had taught her about making pies and tarts. “It’s important that you make the crust just right…and only use fresh fruit,” she added with authority.
Charles caught Sarah’s eye and winked.
“More coffee anyone?” Sophie asked. The sun was going down, and there was a cool breeze. “Let’s move into the living room.”
Sarah started to stack up the dishes, but Timothy reached for her arm. “No, my dear. The men will take care of this. You sit down, and we’ll be right in. Come on, guys. We’ve got work to do.”
It was another hour before the men joined the women in the living room. The women were on their second cup of coffee and were playing a hand of rummy when the men finally finished in the kitchen. “We left a couple of things…” Timothy said apologetically.
“That’s fine son. Get your coffee and come in here. We’ve patiently waited all day to hear your big news.”
“My news? Okay, but I was going to work up to that. Shall I just spill it?”
“Spill it,” Sarah and Sophie said in unison as they glanced back and forth between Timothy and Martha.
“Okay. I’ve been offered a job in Altoona.”
Chapter 11
Sarah heard Sophie’s car pull into the driveway early the next morning. She opened the door, and Sophie burst into the house and headed for the kitchen. Without a greeting, she started right in. “It’s nearly seven-hundred miles from here,” Sophie cried. “Seven hundred miles! I’ve waited thirty-five years for my son to come home from Alaska and fourteen years to get to know my granddaughter.”
Sarah knew Sophie really hadn’t been waiting for Penny all those years – she didn’t even know she had a granddaughter, but Sarah knew what her friend meant. She had no sooner begun to enjoy having her family with her, and here they were being ripped away. Sarah folded up her laptop and returned it to its quilted tote bag. They had been looking at maps and calculating distances. “It’s at least an eleven-hour drive,” Sophie continued, “and probably another three or four when you count all the stops I’d be making. It would take me days to drive there.”
“I’m sure they’ll visit you here,” Sarah replied, but she knew that wasn’t the same as having them livin
g right up the street.
“That’s not the same!” Sophie muttered. She pushed the plate of cookies aside and said, “Besides, he’s retired. Why does he have to have a job anyway? He could…” but she didn’t finish the sentence. Her voice had cracked, and Sarah knew she was holding back her tears.
“Besides,” Sophie continued, “he’s been up there for thirty-five years.”
Sarah replied, “Well, he’s still a young man. I can understand why he would want to keep working.”
“Well, at least he could find something closer to home.”
She searched for something to say to her friend but knew there was nothing she could say that would ease her pain. She knew all she could do was listen and actually that was all Sophie wanted.
“By the way, Sarah,” Sophie said still struggling against the tears that were threatening to flow, “have you heard anything from Martha about all this?”
Sarah hesitated, “Well…”
“I’m not asking you to break any confidences, but I’m just concerned that she might be having as much trouble as I am. After all…”
“I guess she wouldn’t mind me talking about it, but don’t let this get back to Tim. They need to talk directly to one another about it, and I told her the same thing I told you: to talk to him and tell him exactly how she feels.”
“How does she feel?” Sophie asked again.
“She’s hurt. She’s hurt, and she doesn’t have any idea how she fits into his life if he can just pick up and move away.”
“I can certainly understand that,” Sophie remarked.
“She has a good job,” Sarah continued, “and surely he doesn’t expect her to just quit and follow him.”
“Is that what he asked her to do?”
“No,” Sarah responded. “According to Martha, he hasn’t addressed where this leaves their relationship at all. I told her she should just ask.”
Missing Memories Page 8
