Brigitte looked pleased. “You know about Swedish cookery?"
Joel ducked his head modestly toward Annika. “I have a good teacher.” He smiled. “And I'd say she learned from one."
Brigitte chuckled. “Wait until you taste everything before you say that. Anyway, this is nothing. At Christmas, you'll see."
Joel swallowed hard, but tried to look happy.
After the soup, there was fiskbullar (minced white fish shaped into balls) with Lingonberry sauce, Janssons frestelse (a potato casserole), corn pudding, Swedish carrots, cucumber salad, and cabbage fruit salad. Joel ate modest amounts of each, but turned down the mulled wine that made its way frequently around the table.
"The fishbuller, I think you call it—you wouldn't normally have that with the red sauce, would you?” he asked.
"Fiskbullar,” Brigitte corrected. “And you're right—the Lingonberry sauce is my own idea. How did you guess?"
"You forget I eat at The Smorgasbord a lot.” Joel grinned. “I think Annika told me it was your unique twist. She serves it this way there.” He looked at Annika for confirmation.
She nodded. “I do. I'm astonished you remember. You're not a big fan of fish."
"You don't like fish?” Brigitte's eyes widened. “It's a staple of the Swedish diet. Anyway, why didn't you tell me, alskling? You know I'd have made something else."
"I love this fish.” Joel frowned slightly at Annika. “And I eat practically anything. I take great pride in my stomach."
Brigitte leaned over the table and eyed his waistline. “Yes, it's quite handsome."
"Heavens, Mamma!"
"What? You know I never speak anything but the truth."
Annika rolled her eyes. “That's fine, Mamma. But it's embarrassing. To me and to Rolf. This is Bonny's first visit."
"But I feel like he's family."
Joel coughed as if something was lodged in his throat. He reached for his glass of water and gulped down a large amount.
"You could give him some time to get adjusted,” Annika argued. “Good grief, Mamma, you'll scare him away."
Rolf raised a hand. Joel had almost forgotten he was there. “Now, now, ladies. Shall we move into the living room until the coffee's ready?"
"Actually,” said Joel, struck by an idea. “After that delicious meal, I could use a walk.” He looked at Annika. “Join me, my dear? Maybe you could borrow a heavier coat from your mother."
"Of course, you young people want some time alone,” said Brigitte. “How foolish of me.” She swept ahead of them to the foyer, and selected a coat from the closet for Annika. “Wear these sneakers, too, alskling. They'll be more comfortable than your heels. Be back in an hour, though, okay? We can use the sauna and have dessert later."
"The sauna?” Joel asked Annika as they stepped outside and down to the sidewalk.
"Well, you know they're a Swedish tradition. Most local Swedes have one in their homes. Mamma probably wants a better look at those fabulous abs.” She patted his abdominal area playfully and Joel caught her hand.
He frowned. “She doesn't expect us to go in there naked, does she?"
"Of course not, Bonny!” Annika laughed and arched her eyebrows at him suggestively. “I didn't know the Italians were so reserved. Aren't you a passionate lot?"
"Don't forget we're Catholic, too,” he said. “Anyway, it's not the Italian side of me. You can blame my Swiss mother. She's a Methodist."
"Oh. Whatever that means. Anyway, although it's traditional to sauna in the buff, Mamma keeps extra swimsuits in the house so when guests are over, everyone can enjoy the sauna if they want to."
Joel smiled. “I'm guessing they'd be Speedos."
Annika swatted him. “You! At any rate, if you hope to continue fitting into one, hadn't we better pick up the pace here? You can't be that full. You never overeat."
"I think it's the nighttime chill that makes you want to move faster. I know another cure for that.” Joel stopped and pulled her into his embrace. Her breath was warm against his face as he leaned in to give her a firm and searching kiss. She let out a deep breath and he watched her eyes open slowly as he pulled his lips away.
"Has anyone ever told you you're an amazing kisser?"
Joel grinned. “I just want to make sure I leave you something to remember me by."
"Leave? Remember you? What do you mean?” Annika pulled away.
"Don't worry; it's nothing major.” He waved his hand airily while he felt a knot clench his insides. “A couple of things have come up. I need to visit Francesco in Cincinnati for a few days, and—"
"Couldn't I come with you? I'm sure I could clear my schedule. I'd love to meet—"
Joel put a gentle finger on her lips. “No. Not this time. For one thing I haven't told him about you yet. His mother remarried a few years ago and Frankie has never really gotten along well with his stepfather. I try to protect him a bit."
"What?” Annika stepped back and eyed him with suspicion. “You think you need to protect him against me?"
"It's not that,” he said, diminishing the distance between them. “You're one of the most incredible women I've known, Annika. I just need to prepare him. He needs to know that I think things through and consider him."
"That's thoughtful.” Annika crossed her arms. “He's twenty now; most fathers would feel he's old enough not to factor in."
"I hoped you would understand.” He touched her shoulder. “Francesco's twenty, but inside he's still that little boy hurting from his parents’ divorce."
Annika unfolded her arms and sighed. “Okay. I'll miss you, that's all. We've been spending a lot of time together, you know. Do you have a ticket to Cincinnati already? When did you decide this?"
Joel concentrated on answering the first question. “I'll look into getting a ticket tomorrow. There is one other thing, though."
"One other thing?” She tilted her head. He had a hard time looking into her green eyes.
"My editor's on my back to get some revisions done on my book. The publisher's moved up the deadline. I'll need to keep my nose to the grindstone for the next little while. I won't be able to see you as much."
"Maybe you should postpone the trip to Cincinnati and concentrate on the book."
"Probably."
"We'll get to see each other sometimes, won't we? Or are you trying to tell me in a nice way that we're through?"
Joel took her hands in his own. “Not through. Just ‘on hold.’ Until I get these other things done. I might be able to see you once a week, but I'll have to call you and let you know. We writers get rather bearish when we're working under pressure. I wouldn't want you to see me when I'm not ‘Mr. Nice Guy.’”
"Once a week? This is going to be hard. And I just hired another chef to free up more of my time."
"I'm sorry.” As his actions sank in, he almost regretted them.
"Well, if you're sure you not just blowing me off and this is a temporary thing,” Annika sighed. “I guess I can work on recipe development."
"Atta girl.” Joel gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.
"This will all be over by Christmas, right?"
He crossed the fingers that dangled at his side. “I promise."
"Okay. It's very pretty at Mamma's house at Christmas. And I was looking forward to having you there, instead of just Mamma, Rolf, Kjell, and Helena. But I'm going to need more kisses to see me through. That one was good, but not sufficient."
He pulled her to him and ferociously complied.
* * * *
Annika didn't sleep very well. Something about Bonny's behavior the night before bothered her. It had seemed to change between picking her up for the ride to her mother's and entering Mamma's house.
She stayed in her bathrobe longer than usual, lingering over her cardamom coffee. It was going to be a long week if she focused on the call Bonny might or might not make. And she didn't suppose she ought to phone him. Not if he truly was bearish when writing under deadline. Of cours
e, if they ever married, they'd have to come to some kind of workable arrangement for such times.
Kjell had agreed to take on the chore of buying fresh foods in the morning, so after Annika dressed she went straight to The Smorgasbord to make sure her newest employee was confidently ensconced in his new position. Lukas had graduated from the Umea University School of Restaurant and Culinary Arts the same year Kjell had, but had only recently decided to spend some time in America. When Annika had told Kjell that someone named Lukas had applied to work at the restaurant, and was apparently a former classmate of his, Kjell had only been too happy to recommend him and to simplify her hiring decision.
"God morgon, Lukas,” she greeted him as she went into the kitchen.
"God morgon, Ms. Samuelsson,” he replied.
"Oh, please, call me Annika. It makes me feel so old otherwise."
Lukas nodded. “Kjell left a list of things for me to start on, so I've just been working away."
"Excellent.” She saw he had things well in hand, so she poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot he'd made ready, and moved toward her office. “Can you send Kjell in once the groceries are unpacked?"
"Jag vill.” I will.
"Thank you."
When Kjell entered Annika's office, he found her sitting at her desk, staring into space.
"Is everything okay?"
Annika bobbed her head. “Yes.” Then she shook it. “No.” She shrugged. “I'm not sure."
"Lukas?"
"No, it's nothing to do with him. He seems to have everything under control."
"Joel?"
Annika gave a short laugh. “How did you guess?"
"What's wrong?” Kjell sat in the chair across from Annika and cupped his chin in his hands.
"I wish I knew. He says he can't see me very much for a while. He has to finish the book he's working on, and visit his son in Cincinnati."
"You don't believe him?"
"I don't know whether to believe him or not. It seems strange that these things came up all of a sudden. He hadn't expressed any desperate urge to see his son previously or indicated that Frankie had called and asked him to come out. And as for a book, he's never mentioned one before. He's talked about ‘work’ or ‘projects’ or ‘pieces,’ but nothing as large as a book. Now, all of a sudden, he's talking about an editor, publisher, and deadlines? It doesn't add up."
"Did something change?"
Annika snorted. “Well, we went to Mamma's for supper last night. Does that suggest anything?"
"She didn't get him drunk, did she?” Kjell rubbed his forehead with his thumb. “I have a hazy recollection of that."
"Thankfully, he left the mulled wine alone. She did manage to herd us all into the sauna, but if something did happen, it was before that."
"What would you like me to do?"
"Short of following him at a discreet distance?” She looked at Kjell's face and quickly added, “Just kidding. I suppose I shouldn't be talking to you about this anyway, but I needed to get it off my chest."
"It's okay. Everyone needs someone to talk to. But you probably have nothing to worry about. I've seen the way he looks at you when he's in here."
"I hope you're right.” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “This is why I was so careful with my heart."
"Hey, if anyone's going to trample on it, they're going to have to answer to me,” Kjell said as he stood.
Annika smiled. “Thanks. You're a good friend."
"So are you. Now, I'd better get back to the kitchen before I get fired."
* * * *
Joel felt awkward as he entered The Smorgasbord after several days’ absence. Annika had sounded distant when he called, and he couldn't blame her. Usually, she had the best booth reserved for their use, but today it was occupied by another couple. He and Annika had to sit at a table for two in the middle of the floor.
She wasn't there waiting for him either, as was her habit. He slipped out of his jacket and asked the waitress to tell her he'd arrived.
He stood up as she approached the table, and pulled out a chair for her. As he leaned down to kiss her cheek, he sensed her drawing away.
"Is everything all right?” he asked as he sat across from her. “You look tired."
She shrugged. “I've had a lot to do. I figured since you were busy, I might as well take advantage of the time."
"Well, let's order and you can tell me all about it. What are today's specials?"
"Try the smorgastarta. It's filling. Then have a light chokladboll for dessert."
"You're going to eat, too, aren't you?"
"Of course. I'll have the same thing you're having, if you like what I suggested."
Joel flagged the waitress and placed their order. Then he reached across the table and took her hands. They felt cold.
"Are the colder days getting to you?"
"No. I've just been working hard, adapting recipes, trying to develop some new ones. It's great having Lukas here now. It frees me to focus on the creative side of the business."
"That's good."
"Yes, it is. How's your book coming?"
"It's coming. I still have a lot to do, though."
Annika nodded. “You hadn't mentioned a book before."
"I hadn't?"
She shook her head. “No, you hadn't. I'd have remembered that."
Joel raised his eyebrows. “Sorry. I didn't realize . . ."
"Are you using me for one of your characters?"
He put his hands up in a gesture of protest. “Of course not. I'd never do such a thing. Good grief, what do you think of me?” He knew she had every right to be angry with him, but still.
"I don't know what to think."
"Honestly, I'd hoped it would be more than that. Anyway, I don't write fiction."
"What do you write, Joel?"
He frowned. “Is this our first fight? I told you I needed some time” He stopped talking as the waitress approached with their lunch. “Listen,” he pleaded softly as the server departed, “if this is going to work out, we have to trust each other.” He was surprised by his own earnestness. He'd wanted to cool her ardor and apparently had succeeded quite nicely in a short period of time.
Annika sighed. “I want to trust you, Bonny. I really do."
He reached over and squeezed her hand, unreasonably glad that she'd called him by the familiar name. “I'm going to work my butt off 24/7 to get this book done. Then I'll whisk out to see Frankie and be back on your doorstep before you know it."
"I hope so."
"I promise.” This time he didn't cross his fingers.
"Okay.” She smiled. “Let's eat."
He cut into his sandwich. “Let's talk about something more pleasant. Like what would you like for Christmas?"
"Seriously?” She took a bite of the tarta. “You, Bonny. Only you."
* * * *
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Four
* * * *
For the next couple of weeks, Annika continued to keep herself busy. She'd really put her heart on the line with Bonny and only hoped he was worthy of her trust. Meanwhile, her cooking classes revved toward a grand finale, her recipe development projects clipped along, and she prepared herself for the Comfort Food Competition.
She rose early on the morning of the cook-off. She needed about two hours of cooking time to make a fresh batch of pudding, and had to be at the conference center in St. Paul by eleven. As the rice cooked on the stove, she made a cup of cardamom coffee and ate a bowl of cereal. When the rice was ready, she mixed, beat, stirred, and poured before putting the casserole dish into the oven to cook. Only then did she allow herself to think about winning.
There was a decent monetary prize if she won and a trip to Austria where she would have the chance to experience new culinary tastes. Sure, she was earning enough to take a nice trip on her own if she wanted to, but at the pace her life was going, the only travel she'd be doing was likely to be forc
ed.
She'd told no one about her decision to enter the contest. Not Joel, who was now visiting Francesco in Ohio; not Kjell, nor her mother. She'd only told Kjell that she was taking the day off. Kjell and Lukas were a good team and could handle things at the restaurant. If Annika won the competition, she'd be away for a while—hopefully with Joel. It was good to let her chefs know she trusted them to run The Smorgasbord in her absence.
To Annika, rice pudding spelled comfort, and there was no reason why she shouldn't win, though she knew nothing about her rivals. She did know her rice pudding recipe was exceptional, and she couldn't wait to get it into the hands—well, mouths—of the judges.
She removed the pudding from the oven, and applied a meringue topping in artful peaks. Her masterverk was ready to show the world. She slipped it carefully into a warmer and took it out to the car. She was surprised to discover a single red rose with a note attached to it under her windshield wiper. Who could it be from?
Setting the casserole on the floor of the passenger seat, Annika retrieved the flower and breathed in its scent. Then she read the note.
"Only four weeks until Christmas. I am counting the days. ~B"
Bonny must have left the note with Kjell and asked him to deliver it. Kjell had been happy to see that things seemed to have worked themselves out between the two, and would be eager to further their relationship in any way possible. A happy boss made for a pleasant working environment, but she knew Kjell also truly cared about her as a friend.
Annika refolded the note and stuck it in her pocket for luck. With Joel for her, who could be against her?
After she arrived in St. Paul, Annika arranged her display at her designated spot in the conference hall before looking around. There were more entrants than she'd anticipated. Her confidence deflated until she tucked her hand into her jacket pocket and felt Joel's note there.
People wandered up and down the aisles, admiring the dishes and noting particular favorites. It was hard to say whether hers received more or less consideration than others but, really, only the judges’ opinions mattered.
When Annika detected a stir in her aisle, she looked up from the Joanne Fluke novel she was reading. The judges were just three contestants away. A crowd of people surrounded them, so she couldn't get a very good look, but there seemed to be three to five men who were the focus of attention. Why was it always men who judged these things when it was mostly women who cooked for them?
On A Cold Winter's Night Page 24
