“That sounds like a nightmare to organize,” Cookie said with a grimace. It meant a lot of phone calls, which Cookie tried to avoid making and receiving as much as possible. Verny used to be a concierge and was used to talking on the phone, so it didn’t faze her much.
“I wouldn’t want the job,” I admitted. As daunting as catering to the masses was, actually having to corral and contact them seemed far worse.
“I don’t want the job!” Verny assured them. “But with that thought in mind.” she turned to Lightning. “So, when will the dagger be ready for the dance?” She asked him. I had successfully avoided a full-blown tale earlier, but I was sure to be stuck with hearing about the dagger again now.
“It’s always ready for display,” Lightning said assuredly. “I’m going to polish it a few more times. I want it to be sparkling,” he said with a smile.
“So, it will be ready when, exactly?” Verny reiterated. His answer was similar to the other non-answers I assumed she’d already gotten.
“By the night of the dance,” Lightning said. “It’s thirteenth century, you know. I keep it locked in my office all year round, except for the Saint Patrick’s Day Dance.”
“I did know that,” I said nodding. It was something to behold, a great silver piece of history. The hilt was studded in more emeralds than I had ever seen anywhere else, a vine was embossed in silver winding its way around the hilt. The emeralds were the leaves of the vines. Its blade was short and still sharp to the touch. If I remembered correctly, it was thirteenth century and had to have belonged to a very well-off knight or even a prince or a king.
“It belonged to a king,” he said with certainty, though I was sure the owner had never been known definitively. He changed the story every time he told it, to the point where it was never quite the same each time and impossible to know what was true. “An Irish king, that’s why it’s so ornately decorated.”
“It is a beautiful thing,” Cookie said wistfully, probably re-imagining the emeralds on a necklace around her neck or on a ring. “All those emeralds, and that glistening silver. I love to look at it.”
“So does everyone else,” Verny said. “That’s why we need it for the dance. It’s something of a local legend nowadays.”
“It was gifted to me by an archaeologist friend of mine, Gerald. He’s very Indiana Jones-like in all his adventures. Went on a pretty good one to get the dagger. He told me that it was hidden in the basement of the ruins of a castle. It should have been buried with its owner, but evidently it wasn’t. Whoever was in charge of burying the king must have squirreled it away to sell later but then got cold feet.
“He practically stole it, you know?” He asked us. I noticed that the boys were listening intently to the tale. A dagger was bound to get the attention of teenage boys, that and a story about adventure. All artifacts are technically stolen, I thought to myself. Every time we go into a museum, we are essentially looking at stolen goods. I didn’t say it aloud though, I’d made that mistake once before and got a lecture.
“He gave it to you after you saw it and fell in love with it,” Verny said, continuing the story for him.
“He had every reason to give it to me,” Lightning said offended that she had stolen his thunder. “I saved his life when we served together. Very heroic of me, you know, I nearly died in his place.”
“I can’t imagine,” I said. I did partially say it to placate him, but the other part meant it genuinely. “So, he owed you one?” I added, feeling bad for my half-hearted initial response.
“I told him not to worry about it, but he did anyway,” Lightning shrugged. “When he saw how much I liked the dagger, he gave it to me.”
“How much do you think his life was worth to him?” Verny mused on the value of the dagger itself.
“Priceless,” Lightning replied. “My dagger is priceless.” He said it harshly as if the very notion of selling it was offensive to him. I wondered if he would ever sell it if he really needed the money, probably not. He might donate it to a museum though, only on his deathbed though and not a moment before.
“I bet you could fetch a hefty sum for it,” Verny continued. “More than anyone here could afford.”
“Oh yeah,” Cookie agreed.
“It’s a good thing that it’s not for sale then, and that the dance isn’t an auction,” Lightning said sourly.
“It will look stunning, I’m sure,” I said to smooth out the conversation. That was often my role with these three.
“I hope it will go in the center of the table?” Lightning asked Verny. The artifacts lived on a long table during the dance for everyone to look at.
“It wouldn’t be anywhere else,” She assured him. After all, the dagger was the most impressive thing that would be there, if not the most impressive item in the whole town.
Chapter Three
The next day went by in a flash and I felt like I had no time to prepare for the dance. I wasn’t exactly equipped to cater a large event. Currently, all the food that I’d prepared was in awkwardly shaped plastic containers and was planning on putting the hot food into a few large crock pots that Verny assured me would be at the dance. Compared to past years, this would definitely be the most slapdash catering ever at the Saint Patrick’s Day Dance. There were past years when the food was elegant in silver dishes with hired waiters in all white. This would be a buffet at best and was far from elegant. My only saving grace was that what I made tasted great. Not even I could find fault in it, which was hard for me not to do.
“Are you sure you don’t need my help?” Cookie asked. Figuring there would be too much to do and too big of a mess to clean, I had kept the deli closed the day before the dance. I’d get everything prepped today, and then finish off the cooking and have it ready to bring to the dance tomorrow. Cookie, having finished all her baking already, had come by to see if she could lend a hand. I felt better with her company, but it would have stressed me out more if she had started to cook. As good of a baker as she was, she was not a cook.
“I’m sure, thank you,” I said scraping the contents of the pan in front of me into a plastic container. I was batch cooking the corned beef and cabbage. I’d also made some fresh rolls and had another round of dough proofing at room temperature. Even thinking of the vegetarians in town, I’d made a meatless substitute with soy meat crumbles. “I can’t believe you're already done.”
“I’ve done this more than once,” Cookie said with a shrug. “And, I had more than a few days’ notice that I’d be baking for the entire town. If I found out when you did, then I would be in an absolute panic. I doubt I’d even get to finish them in time.” I gave her a look that said I didn’t believe her. “It’s true!” She insisted as my phone started to ring.
“Hello?” I said into the receiver, placing the phone between my ear and shoulder so I still had some mobility.
“Hey, Josie, hi,” Abel replied awkwardly. He might have been the last person I expected to call, and instantly I was worried that something had happened to Gideon who was like a father to me. They were detectives together on the force.
“Is Gideon okay?” I asked, fearing the worst. Cookie stopped and looked up, concern on her face as well.
“He’s fine, sorry,” Abel said quickly.
“Oh, okay.” I nodded to Cookie, assuring her that Gideon was okay. She still looked at me quizzically though. “What’s up?” I was at a loss as to what else he would call me about.
“Um, I was just calling to see if you knew if Cookie was going to the dance.” He spoke so quickly I had to really focus to make sure I heard him right. I guess if he was going to call me about anything it would be Cookie. Verny and I had thought that there was something brewing between the two for a while now.
“Yes, she is going to the dance,” I said giving Cookie a sly smile. She blushed instantly, putting the pieces together. “I’m sure that she would love to see you there.” She swatted at me trying to get me to stop talking. Cookie wouldn’t admit it on her
own, but she definitely had the hot tamales for Abel too.
“Stop it,” she mouthed at me. I held my pointer finger up to her.
“You think so?” Abel asked me, hope in his voice.
“I know so,” I assured him. Verny would disapprove of my encouragement of the relationship, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t that Verny didn’t like Abel, she just didn’t like relationships. Her ex-husband had left the marriage for a much younger woman and the experience had soured her. I didn’t blame her, but she shouldn’t let her own issues get in the way of someone else’s happiness. “We’ll both be happy to see you there,” I winked at Cookie who looked like she might die from embarrassment.
“Thanks, Josie,” Abel said, hanging up the phone. I didn’t want to be in the middle of their relationship and hoped if they met up at the dance, my part in their blossoming romance would be over.
“Thank me later,” I said dryly to Cookie who pouted at me.
“I don’t think I will,” she said stubbornly, and then let out a giggle.
“Actually, I could use your help,” I said somewhat regretfully. “Could you watch the Lucky Dill tomorrow while I finish everything up and help Verny with decorations?” I asked. Verny asked me to help get the balloons over because I had a much bigger car than she did. Even with my larger car however, she warned me that it would take a few trips. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Cookie would do alright watching the deli herself, it was just that I didn’t really trust that she would either.
“Yeah, I can do that,” she nodded enthusiastically. “I just want to help out where I can.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.” I shook my head. “I just can’t afford to close another day in a row.”
“Understood,” Cookie saluted me with a laugh.
“Once the bread is finished, I’ll need your help to get everything back to my house.” I changed the subject, looking at the clock. There was still time, but it was ticking away. “I’ve got so many containers.” I looked at all of them stacked on the counters.
“I can help you get everything into the car,” she offered. “Do you need help on the other end?”
“It probably wouldn’t hurt,” I admitted. I didn’t like relying on others or asking for so many favors at once. It was only Cookie though and she’d be more than willing to help me with anything I needed. She was the kind of friend that would volunteer to help you move or bring you to the airport when most others would be conveniently busy that day.
It took about four trips to get everything in my car. Most of the cooking was done, and there would be just a few finishing touches for me to work on and perfect tomorrow. I also wanted to try and make one other side dish of potato pancakes in case someone didn’t want the beef or the vegetarian version. Everyone likes potatoes. It was important to me that everyone who came to the dance felt like they had something they could eat.
It also took four trips to get everything inside and at least twenty minutes to get Cookie to stop apologizing for dropping one of them. She had tripped on an uneven brick and the container went flying, the lid popping off on impact and its contents scattered all over the sidewalk. She began to apologize before it had even hit the ground.
“It’s no big deal,” I insisted again. “I made way too much of everything anyway.” I said, even though I wasn’t sure that was true. I could make another portion if I wanted to. I had all the ingredients at home. There wasn’t any reason for her to feel so bad.
“I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I did that,” she repeated shaking her head at herself.
“You didn’t, the dang brick did,” I said pointing at the brick that had tripped her. It wasn’t the first time someone had stumbled because of it. Almost all the sidewalks in town were brick and there were even a few cobblestone pathways. It looked nice, but it wasn’t always practical to walk across.
After a bit more placating, Cookie didn’t feel so guilty anymore and finally left for home. I loved her and Verny’s company, but I was the kind of person who needed time to myself to recuperate from the day. Otherwise I get too stressed out and overwhelmed. I was going to be both of those things because of the dance tomorrow, but at least I could be that in the comfort of my own home.
In the end I decided to remake the portion that Cookie had dropped, just in case. I didn’t want to run out. I also made an abundance of potato pancakes. My biggest fear aside from everyone spitting their food out was not having enough.
I thought a lot about Abel and Cookie that night. I had high hopes for the two of them. I thought they would be sweet together. A good balance. He was more serious than she was, but I could tell there was a humorous side that Cookie would probably bring out. While Verny and I had both been down the relationship train and gotten divorces, Cookie had been mostly single for the majority of her life. She went on dates, but I couldn’t remember the last time there was someone serious. Verny’s concerns were understandable with her past, and I couldn’t argue that we didn’t really know all that much about Abel.
It seemed like one day he just moved to town from the city. That didn’t happen often here, most people moved away or passed through. I couldn’t tell why he got transferred from the city to our sleepy little town, if he’d ever been married or really much about his life before living here. The more I thought about it, the more uneasy I felt. I liked him, but I didn’t think I knew him enough to trust him. On the other hand, Gideon seemed to trust him and if there was one person in the world that I trusted, it was Gideon.
I took most of the day to prepare for the dance. In truth, I had gotten the food done early, before noon. There would have been more than enough time for me to go into the deli and see how things were going, help out a bit before bringing the balloons and the food to the school. The truth was that I didn’t feel like it, despite worrying about the deli in Cookie’s hands. So I gave myself the rest of the day off. I took a rare and relaxing bath and finally finished a book I had been reading for the past month. Once the guilt began to set in, I decided it was time to get ready and pick up Cookie.
“Verny can help us bring all this inside,” Cookie said helping me carry a few of the plastic containers into the school. She was in a simple black dress that hugged her curves attractively. I wore a more practical pant and blouse combination.
“She’ll love that,” I snorted. “It’s not like she hasn’t been bringing things in and out all day long.” I thought back to all the balloons she had already brought from my car earlier that day. I couldn’t imagine that one space could ever need so many.
“I’m sure she will have very specific instructions for where you have to put everything anyways,” Cookie rolled her eyes. “She can pretend she hates decorating all she wants, but we both know that not only does she love it, she’s good at it too.”
“I know, remember your fortieth?” I asked, thinking back to Cookie’s birthday a few years ago now. Verny had surprised her with a party in the event center and decorated everything to match a gold theme. She had hung streamers and made little centerpieces. She’d even carefully placed gold confetti on the floor in a pattern that read ‘Happy Birthday’. It was something to behold.
“No, considering the fact that I’m only thirty-nine, I don’t remember my fortieth,” Cookie said with a sly grin.
Chapter Four
We weren’t wrong about the decorations. Verny had pulled together something spectacular. I felt bad that my food wasn’t prettier or more elegant. It would ruin the effect she’d created. The room looked like it could be from a movie, not a high school gym. A large green lantern hung in the center of the room, spraying the entirety of it with a glimmering green light. Below it, a long table was centered in the room to display everyone’s artifacts. Most of them were brown clocks or odd pieces of wooden things, making Lightning’s dagger shine even more. It was dead in the center of the table, in its holder. It stood taller than most everything else on the table, and it sparkled against the black velvet pillow it sat upon. It belonged
in a museum behind glass, but that was what was so special about having it out like this. It felt like a treat, like something that wasn’t supposed to be within arm’s reach.
“Looks good, doesn’t it?” Verny said with a smile despite herself. She was clearly proud of what she managed to pull off. The ceiling was full of the balloons she had tirelessly filled and brought to the event, all in different shades of green and some white. A stage was set up for a live band to preform and the food table was close to the entrance opposite the stage.
“It’s incredible,” I said, letting out a low whistle.
“You’ve out done yourself,” Cookie agreed. “You know this means you're probably going to get roped into doing this more often, right?” She asked.
“Yeah, well,” Verny said noncommittally. “Caroline is in charge of the soda.” She changed the subject, not wanting to admit that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if she were to get stuck decorating more events.
“Really?” Cookie laughed. “Who stuck her with that job?” She asked.
“I did,” Verny said pleased with herself. Caroline owned the Sweet Shoppe and acted as if she was better than everyone else. She and Verny were what I would call adversaries at best, where she and Cookie were competitors and I was their friend.
“Well, I hope that keeps her occupied,” Cookie laughed again. I didn’t blame her. Caroline had said some unkind things about Cookie not being a professional baker.
“She’s probably at the store now staring at the soda’s, panicking over what to choose. Coke, Pepsi or the store brand.”
The Leprechaun's Loot Page 2
