“Oh, it’s so hard to eat just one,” Jesse said, grateful her mother hadn’t offered her the temptation of a second.
“I put a couple aside for the lunch you’re taking with you. You are taking a lunch, aren’t you?”
“Probably more like a brunch, since we’re getting such an early start. And if I remember from past outings with Winnie, the fish are more active in the mornings.”
“Your father was a fisherman,” Sophia said. “And I never understood why anyone enjoyed sitting in a boat, tossing a line at something that only paid attention when it was dark, wet or cold.”
“I’m already not looking forward to this,” Jesse said, returning her empty cup to its saucer. “And you’re not helping much.”
“You’re a good friend, dear.” Sophia reached over and patted her daughter’s arm. “I remember that even as a little girl, Winnie wasn’t your average child. She always seemed a little more awkward and a little more serious than the other children. I used to worry about her and hope that she would become more comfortable with herself as she grew older. Then I worried that it was shallow of me to think about things like that because she always seemed perfectly happy just as she was. Is she?” Sophia looked at her daughter with concern in her eyes. “Happy, I mean?”
“I don’t honestly know,” Jesse said. “She sounded as if something was worrying her but didn’t want to talk about it until she saw me in person. And, you’re right. She does seem to open up more with a fishing pole in her hands.”
“Do you know where the two of you are going?”
Jesse shook her head. “Not a clue. She seems to like remote spots with no one else around. But that means we won’t be interrupted. And once she starts talking, we should have a nice long, heart to heart, followed by brunch. Which will leave my afternoon free for a trip with Connie out to assess the inventory at the Geller estate sale.”
“You have a busy day ahead of you, dear.” Sophia opened the lid on a porcelain baking dish and extended it to Jesse. “Have another orange roll.”
∙∙∙•••●●●•••∙∙∙
After making quick work of a second roll, Jesse left the veranda with her mother. Together, they carried the thermos of coffee and a tray with their vintage English china cups, saucers, and dessert plates, along with the covered baking dish. Deftly they maneuvered their burdens down the staircase, through the foyer, and along the central hallway to the kitchen entrance of the Gilded Lily Tea Room and Coffee House. There, they found Lindsey Hatch, their partner in the restaurant, already grinding the coffee beans she used for their justifiably famous coffee.
“You’re here early,” Jesse said, glancing at her watch. It was barely five thirty, and the tearoom didn’t open for another hour. The bread had been left out overnight to rise, along with the cinnamon rolls and pastries that were prepared and ready to bake in time for the first customers.
Not having heard their arrival over the sound of the grinder, Lindsey glanced up, surprised. “Look who’s talking. You don’t even work today.” Then she turned her attention to Sophia. “Good morning. You outdid yourself on those orange rolls. It was all I could do to have just one. And thanks for the thermos of coffee. I needed a cup.”
“Did you have another bad night?” Sophia asked. “I declare, between you and Jesse, I’ve never seen two people who had more trouble getting a decent night’s sleep.”
“Excuse me,” Jesse said, not for the first time, “but I’m a night person with a morning job, and I’m doing the best I can. I don’t know what Lindsey’s excuse is.”
“I’ll go with what she said.” Lindsey pointed to Jesse. “It sounds as good as anything I can come up with. By the way, is that your salad in the refrigerator, or did someone decide to get a big jump on lunch?”
“Salad’s mine,” Jesse answered. She reached into the pantry and retrieved the hamper she used for picnics, already lined with a red-and-white checkered cloth she could spread for them to sit on. “And the baguette. And that little container of pear-infused vinaigrette.” Going to the refrigerator, she began to pull out prepackaged containers and stack them into the picnic basket. “And the fruit compote. And the green tea with mango.”
“I thought you were going fishing with an old friend,” Lindsey said, frowning at the now overstuffed hamper. “Isn’t that more of a peanut butter and jelly type of outing?”
Jesse stopped, stared at her picnic lunch and realized that Lindsey might be right. Winnie quite likely would prefer something simple and more of the meat-and-potatoes variety, but it was too late now. “Where were you when I was fixing all this?”
“Me?” Lindsey asked. “On a Saturday night? I was doing what all single young ladies do on a date night—washing my hair and watching old movies on TV. Alone. What were you doing?”
“Touché,” Jesse said with a laugh. “Well, at least I’ve got a date for today. And I’m going to be late if I don’t get a move on. I’ll see you ladies later. You have a good day, now.”
With that, she was out the door and on her way. The first, faint glow of peach lit the eastern sky. The lowest clouds were tinged a dark lavender against the navy blue background of the night. Peace seeped into her soul and she looked forward to the coming day.
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Murder Most Thorny
Murder on a Silver Sea
Misty Morning Murder
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Murder, Mayhem and Bliss (Myrtle Grove Garden Club Mystery Book 1) Page 28
