by Sandra Lee
MAKE THE ALMONDS: Bring the water, sugar, and cardamom to a boil. Add the almonds and stir to coat. Keep cooking until the liquid has reduced and is syrupy. Pour onto a buttered piece of aluminum foil. Spread out with a spatula and let cool. Chop or break apart when ready to use.
MAKE THE FROSTING: Whip the butter and sugars together until it is light and the sugar has dissolved. Whip in the cream cheese and vanilla.
Top the cooled cupcakes with the frosting and sprinkle with the candied almonds.
“I have an idea,” Emma volunteered. “These are great, but look at all this. Why don’t we buy cupcakes from the supermarket? We’ll just take them out of the package and—”
“Emma!” barked Grace and Lorraine in unison.
Grace had to admit that she’d really promised something she couldn’t deliver. The cupcakes on top of the work at the store and her online business, plus Emma’s starting school, and now this wedding circus were more than she could handle. And Emma was right. It was crazy to be baking all this from scratch. A commercial bakery would probably buy frosting by the vat or go General Mills for a commercial-grade bulk cake mix to use anyway.
“Hel-loo!” It was Claire, knocking at the screen door. “Gracie, Lorraine!”
“What’s she doing here?” Grace thought, opening the door a crack. Behind Claire she could see a group of young girls in green uniforms.
“Oh good, you’re here. Girls, stay right where you are, please.” Claire acted like the crack was a wide-open door and somehow ended up inside the kitchen. “Hi, Lorraine, hi, Emma! Oh, my goodness! You are busy. Well, I won’t keep you. But I have a little business proposition.”
“Um—are we in business?” Grace asked.
“We can be. You have to make a lot of cupcakes. I have a lot of Girl Scouts. So I was thinking, we all want the Book Nook Barn to be a big success when it reopens. And the cupcake sale worked so well before. But with the Fall Family Fest and all, you’ll need many more cupcakes. And you could do me a huge favor, Grace. My Junior Girl Scouts need to earn their baking badge. And my friend Sheila, in Appleton, has a similar problem with her troop. So I was thinking, if you’d let us, we’ll have the girls bake cupcakes for the sale. I’ll supervise this group, and Sheila will be in charge of hers, and we’ll be delivering about—let’s see, if each girl bakes two dozen, and there are about twenty girls in each troop, we’ll be bringing you about eighty dozen.”
“That’s fantastic, Claire! I am so excited! I can give the girls a basic recipe, and they can decorate the frosting with M&M’s. We’ll pay for the ingredients. Are you sure they’ll earn their badges?”
“Absolutely. Jennifer has been begging to work on her baking badge. The girls watch those cupcake shows on TV and they want to do it, too. So—is it a deal?” She thrust out her hand.
Grace took it. “Deal.”
“You know, we’re all really glad you and Emma are back,” Claire said. “I know I can’t replace Leeza, and it must be hard just now since this was the time you always came back to see her, but maybe we can have lunch when things lighten up.”
“Sure. That would be nice.” Claire had saved her, that was for sure. Of all people—Claire? Would wonders never cease?
“I now christen thee—the Book Nook Barn!” With the flick of a switch, Tim illuminated Miss Havisham, who sprang to life, sparkling and fiery, as she hung above the oversized bluestone table. For a minute nobody spoke, it was that gorgeous. As everyone was still looking up, there was the sound of a champagne cork popping.
“To the Book Nook Barn!” Mike announced. “The phoenix that rose from the ashes. Literally!”
The glass cake stands stood at attention like soldiers at the ready, awaiting their cupcakes.
The Kids’ Corner was a mound of fluffy pillows surrounding a group of weathered milking stools that at one point had served the needs of actual cows but were perfectly sized for the littlest readers. The Wi-Fi was up and running.
“We’re ready for the festival,” Ken proclaimed. “We did it!” He raised a glass of wine, then hit the remote, and Michael Jackson burst from the sound system. With a flourish, Ken grabbed Tim and started to dance, pulling a fierce Moonwalk.
The playlist shifted to Adele, and Mike grabbed Grace and spun her across the floor, twirling her until she was dizzy and they’d spun out the door and onto the porch. It was amazing, Grace thought, to actually know someone who could do so much with his hands. Mike was the polar opposite of Brian, who lived in his head, and, needless to say, of Von, who lived only for business deals. Mike radiated an air of self-assurance. The minute you encountered Mike, you knew that he could fend for himself—that he was the kind of guy who could survive in the wild, who’d be able to chop down trees with a penknife, build a shelter and make a fire with a bunch of driftwood, and locate water and edible berries. The kind of guy who could—and did—save lives, not just his own. Ken called him a “throwback,” and he was. A throwback to simpler times when everybody knew where they stood.
Dancing with Mike, holding his muscular fireman’s shoulders, feeling his cheek rough upon hers with the twinkly chandelier overhead and the moon rising over the park outside, Grace felt a glow, and she was pretty certain it wasn’t just the champagne. Mike dipped her dramatically, his hand firmly pressed to the small of her back. Yes, he was a man who literally had her back.
They reluctantly closed up shop. Tomorrow, the festivities started at 5:00, with a classic-car parade down Water Street, but the real action started much earlier when crowds of families arrived for an explosion in the town on Saturday—games, clowns, crafts, a climbing wall, a petting zoo, a band, and kids’ sports. Mike would be working with the fire department, and the fire trucks would be on display. There was always plenty of food. It was going to be crazy, and the park was sure to be packed. The Book Nook Barn would be open bright and early and ready for business.
Grace knew she had to get up to start the cupcake engine at the crack of dawn, but that didn’t matter now. She was wrapped in Mike’s arms, dancing a slow dance without music. Tonight, she wasn’t a mom or a friend or a daughter, or an ex-wife. Tonight, she was a lover.
It was dawn, and the sky was just starting to streak with bits of light as Grace tiptoed into the house with her shoes in her hands. Her room being at the top of two flights of stairs meant negotiating the planks in the floor that were known to be creaky, and trying not to bang into any walls or make noises that would cause curious ears to tune in. She felt like she was sixteen again, sneaking home after a night out. This was one of the downsides of single motherhood—sometimes it felt like your child had more privileges than you. As she slid past Emma’s closed door. Grace wondered if she’d really gone so far after all. She’d have to reassess her finances and see if she could afford a place for herself and Emma. Still, that wouldn’t give her any real privacy, either. Grace sighed as she collapsed onto her bed. The price of motherhood, as any mother knew, was privacy, and this mother had just walked the walk—of shame. Not unlike when she was a teenager, sneaking in after a make-out session. Except she wasn’t ashamed. Not at all. Grace was a grown woman.
After an hour of fitful sleep and a splash of cold water on her face, Grace was back in the kitchen. Yes, Grace thought, it was hard knowing this would be her first 3F without Leeza, but she had to laugh: If Leeza could only see her now, baking up a storm. She’d have loved it. Running water for the coffee, she noticed a message on the table. It must have been there the night before, she thought. It was from Jonathan. He had something for her, and could she stop by later. “How strange,” Grace thought.
Being at Leeza’s house without her still felt odd, and if everything hadn’t happened as it had, Grace would simply be here visiting her friends as she did every year. The home radiated Leeza’s taste, her touch. It was comforting to feel she was still very much a presence. Grace sat with Jonathan in the kitchen as he poured Cheerios for Sara.
“Sara’s a bit young for nursery school,” said J
onathan as he lowered Sara into her high chair. “But I’m looking at a pre-preschool for her. I thought it was better than Sara being alone while I was at work.”
Hearing this broke Grace’s heart. Leeza had been so proud to be a stay-at-home mom and had prioritized being there for Sara. Life was so unfair sometimes.
Jonathan handed Grace a package marked “3F.” She ripped open the envelope. Inside was a thin plastic case with a disc inside. The handwritten label read “Grace”—in Leeza’s handwriting. Grabbing the envelope, Snoopy pointed to his PC, which was set up in a corner of the kitchen.
“You can play it here, if you want,” he said. “Or take it home.”
Grace couldn’t wait. She pulled out the DVD, slid in the disc, and pushed “Play.” And there was Leeza on the screen, in her early spring garden, thin and frail, but smiling at her. She had obviously set up the camera on a stand or a pile of books and recorded herself. Grace could see Leeza leaning in and reaching forward to make adjustments before she settled back in her chair.
“Hi, Gracie.”
Sara’s head snapped up. “Mommy!” she cried, stretching out her arms.
Grace clicked off the DVD. “I don’t want to upset her,” she mouthed silently to Snoopy.
“You can play it in the den, if you want,” he said. “I don’t think Sara understands what’s happened.” His face was so sad.
“I don’t think any of us do,” Grace said. She ejected the DVD and carried it into the den.
Just seeing Leeza in front of her and hearing her say her name made Grace want to cry. She clicked “Play,” and the video began again.
“I wish you could have stayed, but I also am glad you left, you know?” Leeza said. “You need to get back to Emma. And I have a job to do here. I know we talked about a lot of things, but I kept thinking about how we always get together for 3F, and I have to be really honest and say, while I hope I’ll be there, maybe I won’t be.
“Well, if you’re playing this video, that means I’m not around, but don’t think I’m not thinking about you. You’re probably sad, and I get that; I’m sad, too. But here’s the thing. I’m counting on you to move on. You’re going to have to live life for both of us now. So do me a favor, and don’t waste a minute of it.” Leeza smiled. “I know you, Grace, you’ve always been looking for something else, and I know you think Von may be Emma’s father. But Grace, Von figured out the timing of Emma’s birth years ago. He knew there was a chance Emma could be his, but he didn’t come back even then. Sure, there was the business, but he could have at least called or written to you. You were right about that part all those years ago. He’s my cousin and I love him, but he was a coward then, and he’s still the same old Von, hiding from life behind his work. I asked him to come while you were here so you could see for yourself how he hasn’t changed. I wanted you to stop wondering if a life with him could have worked out, so you could finally move on. It doesn’t matter who Emma’s biological father is, Grace. Brian loves her dearly, and she has the most amazing mother in the world. It’s time for you to be happy, Grace. To have someone in your life you love and desire. Someone who can be a real partner. It’s not Brian or Von, Grace, but I know he’s out there for you. I’m just sorry I won’t get to meet him.”
Leeza laughed. “God sure has some surprises in store for us. If he weren’t God, I’d be very upset with him for my cancer. Who does he think he is? Well, G., I wish I was there with you to talk this through over our coffee mugs, like we always did with everything, but I’ve gotta go now. Sara’s waking up, and every minute is precious. The point of this long and rambling video is, time is short. Sometimes, shorter than we think. Don’t let things drift. Trust yourself, you can do it. You are stronger than you know. Bye, Gracie. What a wonderful friend you are, and I love you.” She blew a kiss, and the video ended, frozen on that image.
With tears streaming down her face, Grace could hear Snoopy running water and bustling about in the next room, getting Sara ready for pre-preschool. The sound of life.
It was amazing, Grace thought, how your whole life could shift on its axis and you just walked on through it, like trying to make it home in the winter when the snow was deep and each step was a struggle, but you did it. The mad rush of the Book Nook Barn reopening and the cupcake sale took up every available inch of Grace’s brain and counter space, and that was all she was able to think about until the last customer left on Saturday night.
“How many cupcakes did we go through?” Tim asked as he studied the books.
“One hundred and thirty dozen,” said Grace in disbelief as she lounged on the pillows in the Kids’ Corner, where a few hours before Emma had given a reading of Hello, Halo! featuring a guest appearance by the main character himself. The word got out that Halo the evil bird from The Lost Ones was at the Book Nook Barn, and it seemed like every animal-loving kid and every Lost Ones fan had packed their way into the shop, hanging out on the front porch, or waited outside on the sidewalk to take the place of the next person who left. Grace’s feet throbbed and her shoulders were sore from lifting heavy trays and carrying boxes of books. Every cupcake had been devoured. She must have cleaned up and thrown out a million wrappers. “Thank God for Claire…”
“Claire really came through with the troops,” said Ken.
“I feel terrible that we pulled pranks on her in high school.”
“Why? She was probably not even aware of it. She was ten times more popular than any of us. We were like gnats to her.” Ken wiped down his precious bluestone countertop. “Well, mission accomplished, team. We certainly drew traffic. And the lifestyle editor from the Chicago Tribune, the food editor from the Green Bay Journal, and a reporter from the Appleton Tribune all showed up. The Tribune wants to send up a photographer and do a feature on our style. And here’s the icing on the cake, so to speak—they all want to run that Nut Case cupcake recipe!”
“Seriously!” Halo’s squawk interrupted the conversation as he bobbed left and right on his perch. The bird always had to have the last word.
Mike surfaced from the basement. “Nobody noticed my new hardwired smoke alarms,” he said mournfully. “But,” he said, brightening, “the Chief wants to order a sheet cake.”
“Did you tell him we don’t do sheet cakes?” Grace said, rubbing her aching calf.
“Yeah, and he said you should. There’s big business there.”
“In sheet cakes?”
“A lot of traditions have died in modern times, but sheet cakes are the one social constant,” Ken said. “Birthday? Sheet cake. Promotion? Sheet cake. Anniversary? Sheet cake. Shower? Sheet cake. Holiday? Sheet cake. I’ve seen them at funerals, graduations, you name it.”
Grace laughed. “Well, why don’t we just tell them we’ll put a bakery in here?”
“Sheet cakes, books—what’s the difference?” Ken shrugged. “They’re both flat, with writing on them.”
Grace felt giddy with exhaustion and from the encouragement Leeza’s message had given her.
“We did it, Mom! I knew we’d pull it off,” Emma said as she shared her scrambled eggs with Halo the next morning at breakfast. Since they’d moved back to Wisconsin, Halo had become a bona fide Midwesterner, preferring mashed potatoes and scrambled eggs to seeds or fruits. “This bird would never have survived in the wild,” Grace thought, watching her daughter alternating bites of her own eggs with bits hand-fed to the cockatoo. He would only have made it if they had personal chefs in the rain forest. In addition to scarfing down his own portion, he tried to grab the last bit from Emma’s mouth as she pushed him softly away. “We’re a great team, Mom. We can do anything. And that’s why I want you to come with me to Dad’s wedding. I need you there with me.” Emma said this last part a bit quietly, but Grace heard it all the same.
Come to the wedding? “What? I don’t think I’m invited, Em. I happen to be the ex-wife.” Grace would do anything for Emma, but what a nightmare! Emma would be with family she knew and trusted, family that loved her
. She could certainly go to the wedding on her own. It would be her first wedding. She was just nervous, was all.
Emma sighed and flounced over to the big ceramic mixing bowl where mail, catalogs, and magazines were dumped. Sorting through, she found a large, square envelope, which she ripped open. “There!” She slapped the invitation on the kitchen table. It was thick and cream-colored, with a deckle edge and a watermark of a floating feather. In honor of guess who, no doubt, Grace thought. “Don’t you ever open your mail? Heather said she really hoped you could come. Please, Mom, I want you there.”
“What!” Ken exploded when she showed him the invitation. “I can’t believe Bether invited you to their wedding.”
“Bether?”
“Brian plus Heather equals Bether. Well, we know this will be an out-of-body experience, but if Emma wants you there, you have to do it.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
Ken looked at her. “Sweetie. You have to go. This isn’t about a wedding. This is about closure. Now, let’s talk about this cupcake crisis.” He pushed up the rolled sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt, part of his new literary look.
“What cupcake crisis? Did somebody get food poisoning?”
“Far from it. We have an absolute tsunami of demand. Everybody keeps coming into the Book Nook Barn demanding cupcakes, and, if not the cupcakes, they want your recipes. You’re going to have to get Lloyd’s of London to insure that recipe box!” He sighed for dramatic effect. “I tell them, ‘Sir, or ma’am,’—as the case may be—‘this is a bookstore! Can’t you read?’ But we have to figure something out to keep all our new customers, so they don’t veer off to Dairy Queen and do not pass go. Or call it a day and stick with online. Books and food are like peanut butter and jelly. They just go together.”
