The Tea Shop on Lavender Lane (Life in Icicle Falls)
Page 27
The reception, held in the dining room at the Icicle Creek Lodge, was catered by Bailey, with the help of Olivia Wallace and her staff. Even though all the partitions had been folded back and the tables packed in, there was barely enough room to hold everyone.
Samantha gave a speech, talking about how well suited Luke and Cecily were. “Of course, with my sister’s gift for matching people up, we knew she’d figure it out eventually,” she added, making Cecily blush and the wedding guests chuckle.
Her speech was followed by the best man’s. Luke’s longtime friend Joe Coyote looked handsome in his black tux. His toast was short but to the point. “When it comes to women, some of us guys have a hard time getting it right but not Luke. You got it right again, buddy, and I know you two are gonna be happy.”
Luke squeezed Cecily’s hand, and her heart fluttered. Looking back, she could only shake her head at how long it had taken her to realize how special he was and how perfect for her.
Now the speeches were at an end, but there was one more that needed to be given. Cecily stood and asked for the microphone, and the surprised best man handed it over.
“I know brides don’t usually give speeches at their weddings,” she said, “but I want to say how thankful I am that you’re all here to help us celebrate. True love is a gift, and it’s best enjoyed with friends and family.” She smiled down at Bailey. “And especially sisters.”
Because in all of life’s ups and downs, no matter who loved you or who broke your heart, no matter what you did, no matter how foolish you were, there was one thing you could count on—you always had your sister.
* * * * *
A Little About Tea
Hi, everyone! I’m really enjoying my tea shop. Everyone in Icicle Falls has been so supportive! Especially Cecily, who comes in and lends a hand serving when I’m short-staffed. I’m selling her lavender sachets now. We package them in vintage teacups and they’re really popular. In fact, she’s having a hard time keeping up with demand. I’ve learned a lot about tea, too. Here are a few facts you might enjoy.
In England high tea is actually dinner and tends to be on the heavier side. Afternoon tea, however, is something much more fun and girlie. Afternoon teas come in three different varieties:
Cream tea, which offers tea, scones, jam and cream;
Light tea, which gives you tea, scones and sweets; and
Full tea, with tea, savories, sweets and dessert—yum!
To steep a perfect cup of tea...
Use boiling water for black, dark oolong and herbal teas. This will break down the leaf and release the flavor and antioxidants. Steep for three to five minutes. This is why, when you’re using a teapot, you should have a tea cozy over it to keep everything nice and hot. Don’t steep any longer than that or your tea will become too astringent. If you’re making a more delicate tea such as green, green oolong or white tea, use slightly cooler water.
Serve tea...
With milk, not cream—better for the hips! Cream is too heavy and can mask the taste of the tea.
When serving lemon with tea, lemon slices are preferable to wedges—much daintier! Don’t forget to provide a small fork, or lemon fork, for your guests. And never add lemon with milk since the lemon’s citric acid will cause the milk to curdle.
Drink it up...
With your pinkie out. What’s that about? I guess originally all porcelain teacups were made in China. They were small and had no handles. So to keep from spilling on themselves, tea drinkers had to hold the cup with the thumb at six o’clock and the index and middle fingers at twelve o’clock. Then they’d raise the pinkie for balance. Well, we’re still using the pinkie for balance. Holding your pinkie finger out a little helps avoid spills.
Make time for tea because it’s good for you! Tea contains polyphenols, antioxidants that repair cells and may help our bodies fight off sickness. And it’s not just green tea that’s good for you. Black, white and red tea also have flavonoids and polyphenols. One of my personal faves is Rooibos. So, go ahead—enjoy that cup of tea!
And here are some of my favorite recipes from Tea Time. I hope you like them.
Bailey
Lavender Honey
(Courtesy of Elizabeth Schultz)
Ingredients:
1 cup honey
1 tsp. lavender buds
Directions:
In a small pan bring the honey and lavender buds to a boil. Remove from heat and cool to room temp. Then let it rest covered for a day for the flavors to meld. Strain out the buds and store covered in a dark place.
Lavender–White Chocolate Scones
Ingredients:
2 cups flour
1 tbsp. baking powder
¼ tsp. baking soda
¼ tsp. salt
2 tsp. crushed lavender buds
1⁄3 cup sugar
½ cup white chocolate chips
1 stick (1⁄2 cup) butter (cold)
2⁄3 cup milk
lavender sugar (available in most kitchen specialty stores)
Directions:
Sift flour, baking powder, soda and salt into a large mixing bowl. Add sugar, lavender and white chocolate chips and mix. Cut in stick of butter as for piecrust, then add milk and stir with a fork until mixture becomes dough. Divide dough into two balls, then turn out onto a floured surface, knead lightly and form into mounded rounds. Cut each round into quarters then place on an ungreased baking sheet. Sprinkle with lavender sugar and bake for 12–15 minutes at 425. Cool on wire rack. Makes 8–12, depending on the size of your scones.
Chocolate Cookies
Ingredients:
1 cup butter
½ cup granulated sugar
¼ cup cocoa
2 cups flour
½ cup mini chocolate chips
½ cup chopped nuts
1 tsp. vanilla
powdered sugar for coating
Directions:
Cream butter, sugar and vanilla. Add flour, chopped nuts and mini chocolate chips and mix well. Form into 1-inch balls and bake on ungreased cookie sheet at 350 for 10–12 minutes. Makes approximately 2 dozen.
Lavender Cake
Ingredients:
2 ¼ cups cake flour
2 ½ tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1 ½ cup sugar
1 cup milk
1 tsp. vanilla
1–1 ½ tsp. lavender buds, crushed
½ cup butter, room temperature
2 eggs
1 tbsp. oil (for added moistness)
Directions:
Sift dry ingredients into a large mixing bowl. Add sugar, butter and two-thirds of the milk and beat at medium speed for two minutes. Add remaining milk, eggs and oil and beat until blended. Pour into cake pans and bake at 350 for 25 minutes. Remove from oven when cake springs back when touched or when a toothpick inserted comes out clean.
Lavender Cake Frosting
Ingredients:
1 stick butter
1 cup granulated pure cane sugar
8 tbsp. shortening
3 tbsp. flour
2⁄3 cup milk at room temp
1 tsp. vanilla
Directions:
Combine, one at a time, the butter, shortening, sugar and flour, mixing well after each addition. Add milk and vanilla and beat well. Frost cake and sprinkle with lavender sugar. (Which you can purchase at most kitchen shops or lavender specialty stores.)
Acknowledgments
I enjoyed my return to Icicle Falls, and much of that is due to the people who’ve been with me on the journey. I want to thank Cindy Hassinger, owner of the Alpen Rose in Leavenworth, WA, for giving me insight into the business of running a place like Olivia’s Icicle Creek Lodge. Cindy and her crew make it look easy! As always, I’m indebted to my wonderful editor, Paula Eykelhof, and the rest of the Harlequin team for their expertise and support and to my agent, Paige Wheeler, to whom I probably owe chocolate for life. Thanks also to the brain trust, my good pals in literary adventure: Susan Wiggs, Lois Dyer, Kate Breslin, Elsa Watson and Anjali Banerjee. Getting to work with all of you is a large part of what makes writing so fun!
Love and scandal are the best sweeteners of tea.
—Henry James
Turn the page for an excerpt
from Sheila’s upcoming book,
THE LODGE ON HOLLY ROAD.
Coming from Harlequin MIRA
in November 2014!
The Lodge on Holly Road
Jolly Old Saint Nicholas
The toddler wasn’t simply crying. Oh, no. These were the kind of earsplitting screams that would make the strongest department-store Santa want to run for his sleigh. Her face was a perfect match for James Claussen’s red Santa suit, and both her eyes and her nose had the spigot turned on full blast.
What was he doing here sitting on this uncomfortable throne, ruling over a kingdom of fake snow, candy canes and mechanical reindeer? What had possessed him to agree to come back to work? He didn’t want to be jolly, not even imitation jolly.
“Come on, Joy,” coaxed the little girl’s mother from her spot on the sidelines of Santa Land. “Smile for Mommy.”
“Waaah,” Joy responded.
I understand how you feel, James thought. “Joy—that’s a pretty name for a pretty little girl. Can you give your mommy a big smile?”
“Waaah,” Joy shrieked and began kicking her feet. The black patent leather shoes turned those little feet into lethal weapons. Come tomorrow, he’d have a bruise on the inside of his left thigh.
“Ho, ho, ho,” James tried and the shrieks got louder.
Okay, this was as good as the picture with Santa was going to get. He stood and handed off the child, who was still kicking and crying, barely dodging an assault to the family jewels in the process. The jewels weren’t so perfect now that he was sixty-six, but they were still valuable to him and he wanted to keep them.
Shauna Sullivan, his loyal elf, sent him a sympathetic look and brought over the next child, a baby girl carried by her mother. Rosy-cheeked and alert, probably just up from a nap, the baby was all dolled up in a red velvet dress with white bootees on her feet and a headband decorated with a red flower. She was old enough to smile and coo, but not quite old enough to walk or, thank God, kick Santa where it would hurt.
This baby girl reminded him of his daughter, Brooke, when she was a baby, all smiles and dimples. Big brown eyes that gazed at him in delighted wonder. Oh, those were the days, when his kids were small and Faith was still...
Don’t go there.
“And what would this little dumpling like for Christmas?” he asked, settling the baby on his lap.
For a moment it looked as if she was actually concentrating on an answer. But then a sound anyone who’d had children could easily recognize, followed by a foul odor, told him she’d been concentrating on something else. Oh, man.
“Smile, Santa,” Krystal the photographer teased, and the smelly baby on his lap gurgled happily.
James had never been good with poopy diapers, but he gave it his best effort and hoped he looked like a proper Santa.
Finally, they were down to the last kid in line. Thank God. After this, Santa was going home to enjoy a cold beer.
That was about the only thing he’d enjoy. Oh, he’d turn on the TV to some cop show, but he wouldn’t really watch it. Then he’d go to bed and wish the days wouldn’t keep coming, forcing him to move on.
He especially wasn’t looking forward to the next day, December 24. How he wished he could skip right to New Year’s Day. Or better yet, go backward to New Year’s Day two years ago, when he and Faith were planning their European cruise.
Stay in the moment, he told himself. Stay in character. He put on his jolliest Santa face and held out a welcoming arm to the next child.
This one was going to be a terror; he could tell by the scowl on the kid’s freckled face as he approached. He was a big, hefty burger of a boy, wearing jeans and an oversize T-shirt, and could have been anywhere between the ages of ten and thirteen. Logic ruled out the older end of the spectrum. Usually by about eight or nine, kids stopped believing.
“And who have we got here?” James asked in his jolly I love kids voice.
Normally he did love kids and he loved playing Santa, had been doing it since his children were small. He’d always had the husky build for it, although when he was younger Faith had padded him out with a pillow. No pillow necessary now. And no need for a fake beard, either. Mother Nature had turned his beard white over the past few years.
These days he wasn’t into the role, wasn’t into Christmas, period. Santa had lost his holiday spirit and he was starting to lose his patience, too. Very unSanta-like. He should never have agreed to fill in today, should have told Holiday Memories to find another Santa.
His new customer didn’t answer him.
“What’s your name, son?” he asked, trying again.
“Richie,” said the boy and landed on James’s leg like a ton of coal.
“And how old are you, Richie?”
“Too old for this. This is stupid.” The kid crossed his arms and glared at his mother.
“So you’re twelve?” James guessed.
“I’m ten and I know there’s no such thing as Santa. You’re a big fake.”
Boy, he had that right.
“And that’s fake, too,” Richie added.
James was usually prepared for rotten-kid beard assaults, but this year his game was off and Richie got a handful of beard before James could stop him and yanked, hard enough to nearly separate James’s jawbone from the rest of his skull. For a moment there he saw stars and two Richies. As if one wasn’t bad enough.
“Whoa, there, son, that’s real,” James said, rubbing his chin, his eyes watering. “Let’s take it easy on old Santa.”
Now Richie’s mother was glaring, too—as though it were James’s fault she’d spawned a monster.
“Look, Richie,” he said, lowering his voice, “we’re both men here. We know this is all pretend.”
And Christmas is a crock and life sucks. So deal with it, you little fart.
James reeled in his bad Santa before he could do any damage. Good Santa continued, “But your mom wants this picture. One last picture she can send to your relatives and brag about what a great kid you are.” Not. “Can you man up and pose so she can have a nice picture of you for Christmas?”
Richie frowned at him suspiciously, and James sweetened the holiday pot. “I bet if you do, you’ll get what you want for Christmas.” Now the kid seemed less adversarial. James pressed his advantage. “Come on, kid. One smile and we can both get out of here. Whaddya say?”
Richie grunted and managed half a smile and Krystal captured it. “But you’re still a fake,” Richie said.
And you’re still a little fart. “Ho, ho, ho,” James boomed and rocketed the boy off his leg, sending him flying.
“Hey, he shoved me,” Richie said to his mother. He pointed an accusing finger at James.
“Trick leg,” James said apologetically. “Old war injury. Merry Christmas,” he called and, with a wave, abdicated his holiday throne.
“Okay,” he said to Shauna, “I’m out o
f here.” Thank God this day was over. He was never doing this again. He didn’t care if every Santa on the planet was home with the flu.
“You can’t go yet,” she protested and began looking desperately around the mall.
After a ten-hour day? Oh, yeah, he could. “No kids, and it’s ten minutes till the end of our shift. We’ll be okay. Right, Krystal?”
Krystal shrugged uncertainly. “Well...”
It was nearly five o’clock. All the moms and kiddies were on their way home to make dinner. The next Santa crew would arrive soon to deal with the evening crowd. All they had to do was put up the Santa Will Be Back sign. What was the problem? Maybe the girls felt guilty stealing a couple of extra minutes from work.
Not James. He’d worked hard all his life and he had no qualms about stealing a few minutes for himself now. For forty years he’d been a welder for Boeing. Then he’d come home and worked some more, putting that addition on the house, mowing the lawn, cleaning the garage, repairing broken faucets.
Of course, he’d also realized the importance of playing—backyard baseball with the kids, Frisbee at the park, The Game of Life on a rainy Sunday afternoon. And real life had taught him that you should take advantage of everything good, even little things like getting off ten minutes early. Because you never knew what cosmic pie in the face was waiting for you around the corner.
“Come on, ladies,” he said, putting an arm around each of them and trying to move them in the direction of the Starbucks. “The eggnog lattes are on me.” They still balked. He’d never known the girls to turn down a latte. He glanced from one to the other. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“It’s a surprise,” said Shauna.
James frowned. He hated surprises, had hated them ever since Faith got sick.