Christmas Sweets

by Joanne Fluke

  “That’s good. It’s cold out there.” Matt turned to Julie. “Would you check the front door, Miss Jansen? I threw the deadbolt when we were all in for the night. If it’s still locked, that means Gary’s somewhere inside. I’ll go check the back door with Larry.”

  The door was securely locked, and Julie gave a huge sigh of relief. She was very glad Gary hadn’t gone out in the dead of winter. The wind had kicked up, and it was howling so loud, she could hear it inside the snug walls of Aames House. While she was there, she pulled back the curtains and checked the thermometer mounted on the outside frame of the window next to the door. It was eleven below zero, and she hoped Gary hadn’t gone out the back way.

  “The bolt was still thrown.” Matt came back looking relieved.

  Julie nodded. “Same with the front door.”

  “Good. That means he’s got to be here somewhere. Will you check the downstairs, Miss Jansen? And when you’re through, come up and find us. We’ll be checking all the vacant rooms on the second floor.”

  “While you’re at it, you’d better check the girls’ room. Gary could be there.”

  “Why would he be in the girls’ room?” Larry wanted to know.

  “He could have gotten up for some reason and taken a wrong turn when he tried to get back to your room. This is the first night we’ve spent at Aames House, and he’s used to being in the dorm.”

  Matt gave her an approving smile. “I wouldn’t have thought of that, but you’re right. We’ll check the girls’ room last. No sense in waking them up if we find him somewhere else.”

  When Matt and Larry had gone up the stairs, Julie headed for the kitchen. Aames House was designed like a very large private residence with more upstairs bedrooms than the normal-size family would require, but with a single kitchen, a giant living room, a dining room that would easily seat twenty, and several fully equipped offices for the convenience of working parents who had come to visit their children.

  Julie switched on the kitchen lights and blinked in the sudden flood that illuminated the marble-topped counters and gleaming appliances. She’d expected to find Gary here. It was a natural place to look. She hadn’t forgotten her nights as a child and the times she’d stolen downstairs in the middle of the night for a snack.

  But Gary wasn’t in the kitchen. That was apparent at a glance. Julie checked the pantry and even opened the broom closet, but no one was hiding there.

  The laundry room was next, and then the dining room. Julie went through the offices and even double-checked the living room, but Gary was nowhere to be found. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard Matt start to laugh. They must have found him!

  “Gary!” Julie arrived at the boys’ room in a rush and hurried to put her arms around him. “Thank goodness you’re safe. We were worried about you.”

  Gary squirmed slightly and Julie let him go, suddenly remembering that ten-year-old boys didn’t like to be held for long. She turned to Matt. “Where was he?”

  “Under his bed. He must have tumbled out, rolled under it, and fallen asleep again.”

  Once the boys were back in bed, Julie and Matt went back downstairs. Matt checked the doors again, to make sure they were secure, and Julie folded the afghan and placed it on the back of the couch.

  “Now that the crisis is over, I think I’d better call it a night,” Julie said. “The girls slept right through everything and they’ll probably be up early tomorrow.”

  “You’re probably right. I’ll just stay here for a while and see if I can find some late news. I’d really like to hear the weather report.”

  “Mostly overcast, temperatures below zero, and variable winds,” Julie recited.

  “And that means it’ll be sunny, unusually warm, and perfectly calm?”

  “You got it,” Julie said, blowing him a kiss before she headed up the stairs to the guest room she’d staked out as her own.

  Chapter Six

  It was the kind of perfectly beautiful winter day that painters loved and weathermen hated. The temperature had climbed to slightly above thirty degrees and the sunlight gleamed on the icy banks of snow, making them shimmer as if they were studded with diamonds. The icicles that hung from the stark black branches of the trees glistened like silver Christmas ornaments, and brightly colored winter birds flitted from branch to branch turning black and white to Technicolor.

  Hannah turned into the driveway that led to Lakes Academy. It was the fourth round-trip she’d made in as many days, but she really didn’t mind. She opened her window to enjoy the fresh pine scent that Christmas trees in warmer climates could never begin to replicate when she noticed another more subtle scent on the breeze. It was that indefinable something that some people claimed they could smell when snow was on the way. Hannah could smell it, her grandmother had taught her, and she hoped that the winter storm wouldn’t hit too hard. It would be a pity if Julie, Matt, and the kids were snowed in and she couldn’t carry out the Christmas plans she’d made for them.

  Hannah had just pulled up and was preparing to unload when she heard the sound of childish laughter on the wind. Curious, she got out of her truck and followed the sound through the tall pine trees to Aames House. It seemed to be coming from the rear and Hannah walked around the red brick structure. What she saw when she came around the corner made her blink several times in surprise.

  Julie and Matt were helping the kids make snowmen, but they were unlike any other snowmen Hannah had ever seen. They had the traditional stacked snowballs—a large one for the body, a medium one for the chest, and a smaller one for the head. But instead of white snowmen, these icy creations were in rollicking colors. One snowman had a red body with a yellow chest and an orange head. Another had a green body with a peach middle and a blue head. The one that they were working on now had a blue body and a yellow chest. Hope was rolling the head, and it was still white.

  “Is this the right size?” Hope called out, sitting back on her heels to look at her work.

  “Perfect,” Matt replied, and he helped Hope move the head to a small gardener’s tarp that had been spread out on the snow at the foot of the uncompleted snowman.

  “What color do you want for his head, Hope?” Julie asked.

  “I want purple.”

  “I need the grape, please,” Julie called out to Spenser, who was holding a tray containing several thermoses.

  Spenser hurried over with a thermos, and Hannah watched as Julie shook it. Then she uncorked it and poured a thin stream of liquid all over the top of the snowman’s head until it was streaked with purple. A few moments later the color began to spread, and within a minute or two the snowman’s head resembled the top of a huge grape snow cone.

  “Okay?” Matt asked Julie.

  “Go ahead. It should be cold enough by now.”

  Matt lifted the slightly irregular ball of snow and carefully placed it on top of the larger yellow ball. “That does it, except for dressing them. I found some old hats and scarves.”

  “And I found some little pinecones we can use for the eyes,” Serena said.

  “Let’s wait until after lunch to do that. I want to make sure they’re frozen hard.” Julie turned to Spenser. “Will you bring in the thermoses, Spenser?”

  “Sure, right after I take a picture to send to my mom. I sent her an instant message about the snowmen, and she wants me to e-mail some photos.”

  “Okay. Come in when you’re through then.”

  Julie headed for the back door with Matt and the kids, and that was when she spotted Hannah. “Hi, Hannah. Did you see our snowmen?”

  “I did. They’re pretty colorful characters. How did you do that?”

  “Jell-O. The kids got tired of eating Jell-O with fruit cocktail for lunch, so we thought we’d use it up another way.”

  “Very clever. I had no idea it would color the snow that evenly. ”

  “Neither did I, but I hoped it would. And believe me, it took some doing! The temperature of the Jell-O liquid has to be ju
st right, and the snow needs to be really icy. I don’t think I would have figured it out if I hadn’t spent one whole summer at Eden Lake Bait and Tackle making snow cones.”

  “I’ll do the sandwiches, Miss Jansen,” Serena offered, catching up with them. “I know you want to talk to Miss Swensen.”

  “Thanks, Serena. I was going to make peanut butter and jelly on toast.”

  “Okay. I’ll make the toast, Joy can spread the peanut butter, and Hope will put on the jam. Gary and Larry can set the table and pour the milk.”

  “There’s a big box of cookies in the back of my truck if someone wants to go out and get them,” Hannah told Matt. “It’s the box with the cutout handles. The bakery boxes are filled with Blue Blueberry Muffins for tonight’s dessert and they can come in too.”

  Matt turned around and motioned to Spense, who’d just finished taking his pictures. “We’ll rinse out the thermoses, and then Spense and I’ll carry them in.”

  Hannah waited until the back door had closed behind the kids and Matt, and then she turned to Julie. “So?”

  “So what?” Julie started to grin.

  “So how’s the romance going?”

  Julie’s grin faded abruptly. “It’s not,” she said.

  “You had a fight with Matt?”

  “Oh, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s just that we can’t seem to get any time alone. Every time we think we’ve got them all settled down and tucked in for the night, one of them wants something or other.”

  “I think that’s pretty common with kids. They want to be the center of attention twenty-four hours a day. I remember Andrea saying that it was really hard to get any time alone with Bill after Tracey was born. And you and Matt have that problem times six!”

  “That’s true. I really didn’t think the kids would be that needy, but I guess it’s understandable. I’d feel pretty lonely too if I had to stay at boarding school over Christmas.”

  “You do have to stay at boarding school over Christmas.”

  Julie laughed and Hannah was glad. Andrea’s high school friend had looked just a bit depressed.

  “I wonder if it bothers Matt as much as it bothers me,” Julie mused. “I’d come right out and ask, but I think that’s a little blatant, don’t you?”

  “Maybe,” Hannah conceded, although that was probably what she would have done in the same circumstance.

  “Why don’t you ask him for me? You can kind of approach the subject obliquely, so he won’t know I asked you to.”

  “You mean I should be tactful?”

  “Exactly.”

  Hannah sighed. If Julie expected her to be tactful, she was in deep trouble. She’d been told often enough by many people that there wasn’t a tactful bone in her body.

  “Will you at least try to find out?”

  How could she resist a plea like that? Hannah caved in without a whimper. “Okay. I’m not very good at things like that, but I guess I can try.”

  * * *

  There was no chance for Hannah to talk to Matt during lunch. The kids were in high spirits and the noon meal was filled with laughter and wisecracks. But after they’d finished eating, Julie organized the cleanup, and Hannah found herself straightening the chairs and putting on a clean tablecloth with Matt.

  “Do you have a second?” she asked, moving as far away from the kitchen door as the confines of the room would allow.

  “Sure. I figured you’d want to ask about the peach cobbler when Julie wasn’t around.”

  Hannah started to say that wasn’t what had been on her mind, but she quickly changed tactics. A discussion of Julie’s culinary limitations might give her a clue to their relationship. “Did she manage to heat it in the oven?”

  “Yes. She did a good job too. Only one corner got a little brown, and I ate it before she could notice.”

  Love, Hannah thought to herself. She’d thought it was love before, but now she had the proof. Any man who would eat the corner of a burned dessert rather than embarrass the woman who’d heated it was definitely in love. “Then it doesn’t really bother you that Julie can’t cook?”

  “Not at all. I like to cook, and I don’t think Julie would mind being my helper. She’s better than I am with a knife, and she’s great at plating. All I can do is follow a recipe.”

  “But you’re not doing the cooking here.”

  “I would have offered, but I thought it might make Julie feel bad. She’s very proud of being able to make lunches and snacks for the kids.”

  Definitely love, Hannah decided, giving Matt an approving smile. “Do you bake?”

  “I never really learned, but I’d like to get into it. Maybe later, when I have more time.”

  Time. Hannah heard her cue word and picked up on it. “Julie said the kids are needy right now, and they demand almost constant attention.”

  “She’s right. Not the girls so much, but the boys seem to really need us. We’ve been trying to watch Roman Holiday for three nights now, and Gregory Peck’s still got his arm in the gargoyle.”

  Hannah laughed and so did Matt, but she quickly sobered. “About the kids . . . Julie thinks they’re probably lonely, missing their parents and all that.”

  “Well . . .” Matt sounded as if he’d been about to agree when he’d had second thoughts. “That does make perfect sense, but I don’t think it’s the only reason.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s a whole bunch of things. Let me give you some examples. Last night, an hour after he was supposed to be asleep, Spenser came down to tell us the window in their room was stuck and Larry wanted it open a crack.”

  “It wasn’t stuck?” Hannah guessed.

  “It slid right up when I tried it. Spense said he must have loosened it up and he should have tried it one more time before he came to get me, but I noticed that he couldn’t look me in the eye when he said it.”

  “You found that a little suspicious?”

  “Yes, in light of everything else. The night before that, Gary came down to tell us that the faucet in their connecting bathroom was dripping and he couldn’t get to sleep. I went up to fix it, and all I had to do was tighten it with my hand.”

  “And Gary could have done that?”

  “Of course. It’s almost as if the boys are jealous of the time I spend alone with Julie.”

  “That’s interesting. And it must be frustrating for you and Julie, never getting any time alone together.”

  “You have no idea!” Matt said, sighing deeply. “The only time we can talk without one of the boys standing there listening is when they’re eating dessert.”

  “Good thing I brought extra Blue Blueberry Muffins,” Hannah said, proud of the way she’d managed to gather the information Julie wanted. “The next time I drive out, I’ll bring triple dessert and you might actually have time to finish that movie.”

  BLUE BLUEBERRY MUFFINS

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

  The Batter:

  ¾ cup melted butter (1½ sticks)

  1 cup sugar

  2 beaten eggs (just whip them up with a fork)

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  ½ teaspoon salt

  1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries (no need to thaw

  if they’re frozen)

  2 cups plus one tablespoon flour (no need to sift)

  ½ cup milk

  ½ cup blueberry pie filling

  Crumb Topping:

  ½ cup sugar

  ⅓ cup flour

  ¼ cup softened butter (½ stick)

  Grease the bottoms only of a 12-cup muffin pan (or line the cups with double cupcake papers—that’s what I do at The Cookie Jar). Melt the butter. Mix in the sugar. Then add the beaten eggs, baking powder, and salt. Mix it all up thoroughly.

  Put one tablespoon of flour in a baggie with your cup of fresh or frozen blueberries. Shake it gently to coat the blueberries and leave them in the bag for now.

  Add half of the remaining two cups of flo
ur to your bowl and mix it in with half of the milk. Then add the rest of the flour and the milk and mix thoroughly.

  Here comes the fun part: Add ½ cup of blueberry pie filling to your bowl and mix it in. (Your dough will turn a shade of blue, but don’t let that stop you—once the muffins are baked, they’ll look just fine.) When your dough is thoroughly mixed, fold in the flour-coated fresh or frozen blueberries.

  Fill the muffin tins three-quarters full and set them aside. If you have dough left over, grease the bottom of a small tea-bread loaf pan and fill it with your remaining dough.

  The crumb topping: Mix the sugar and the flour in a small bowl. Add the softened butter and cut it in until it’s crumbly. (You can also do this in a food processor with chilled butter and the steel blade.)

  Fill the remaining space in the muffin cups with the crumb topping. Then bake the muffins in a 375 degree F. oven for 25 to 30 minutes. (The tea-bread should bake about 10 minutes longer than the muffins.)

  While your muffins are baking, divide the rest of your blueberry pie filling into half-cup portions and pop it in the freezer. I use paper cups to hold it and freeze them inside a freezer bag. All you have to do is thaw a cup the next time you want to make a batch of Blue Blueberry Muffins.

  When your muffins are baked, set the muffin pan on a wire rack to cool for at least 30 minutes. (The muffins need to cool in the pan for easy removal.) Then just tip them out of the cups and enjoy.

  These are wonderful when they’re slightly warm, but the blueberry flavor will intensify if you store them in a covered container overnight.

  Hannah’s Note: Grandma Ingrid’s muffin pans were large enough to hold all the dough from this recipe. My muffin tins are smaller and I always make a loaf of Blue Blueberry tea-bread with the leftover dough. If I make it for Mother, I leave off the crumb topping. She loves to eat it sliced, toasted, and buttered for breakfast.