Ted dropped the cookie he was eating on the plate and pulled out his cell phone.
I rolled my eyes at him, but he held up a finger then called in an order for Chinese takeout. "Thirty minutes." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Just enough time for a husband and wife bath."
Chapter Thirty-Four
I wasn’t talking to Joe, and he wasn’t talking to me, so I was now officially the sole investigator on Rose’s case. But as each day brought us closer to Christmas, it was hard to focus on anything other than the holidays. To complicate matters further, Ted’s work schedule was so unpredictable, I never knew when he’d be home, so I had to cut back on my secret field trips.
So I baked more cookies, Christmas shopped online and ruminated on Rose’s fate — and mine. After the holidays were over, I had a long list of people to see and places to go. And tops on my list were Father Fran and Kathy Morrissey.
Ted took Monday off, but he slept in and after a quick brunch, ducked out for a game of b-ball with the bros — which was code for Christmas shopping. So my afternoon was spent addressing Christmas cards, with old Christmas movies playing in the background. Rain pattered against the windows, and if we hadn’t had a scheduled family dinner, I would’ve started a fire and put on a pot of soup. Instead, I pulled on a sweater and turned up the thermostat. When the cards were finished, I stuffed them into my bag, tossed on a raincoat and suited up Boomer for a walk. With both of us slickered up, we faced the elements together.
We walked and shivered our way to the mailbox, deposited the cards and walked and shivered our way home. The rain and the season brought nightfall early, and as we turned the corner my Christmas lights came on. Holding Boomer under my coat, I stood in the rain, admiring the lights. There was something so magically Christmas about the moment — the soft rain, the night sky and the twinkling lights. It filled me up with the season but even more with gratitude for my life. Ted, my miracle babies, a business l loved, friends and a family. It didn’t get much better than that.
My only regret was I couldn’t share it with Rose. For a moment, I felt her standing next to me. Felt her arm around my shoulder and heard her gentle laugh. Maybe I imagined it, but it felt so real. "Merry Christmas, Mom," I whispered and went up the walk.
As I unlocked the door, I felt eyes on me. I turned but didn’t see anyone. The street was empty and quiet except for the patter of rain on the pavement and trees. I set Boomer down inside, then turned to face the street again. No tall willowy figure in the shadows, no flashes of long silvered hair — I felt her, but I couldn’t see her. She was everywhere but nowhere. I hurried inside and locked the door.
<<>>
The Monday night family dinner was the first time I’d seen everybody in the same room since Thanksgiving. Steve looked as beat as Ted, but they were in good spirits because business was booming. All the better to pay off the kitchen remodel and the nursery and baby gear we’d need.
After dinner, the dishes were cleared, and I fetched the applesauce spice cake with cream cheese frosting I’d brought for dessert. When I set the cake on the table in front of Ted, I felt a jab in my belly. "Ouch."
Ted looked up concerned. "What happened?"
Another jab and I rubbed my belly. "Ouch. I don’t know. Indigestion?" I frowned. "I guess I should have passed on that second helping of pot roast."
Melinda jumped out of her chair and put her hand on my belly. It happened again and she giggled. "That’s not indigestion, darling. Those are your babies kicking."
I gasped and laughed. "Really? Already? Is that what it feels like?"
Ted pulled me closer and put his hand to my belly, and the babies kicked again. His green eyes brightened with happy tears. I combed my fingers through his hair and laughed. "Did you feel that?"
Ted put his head to my belly and said, "Say hello to Daddy." The babies kicked again, and Ted laughed. "Damn, feisty."
Matt snapped a picture with his phone. Then everybody whipped out their phones and snapped pictures. They surrounded me to feel the kicking babies, who were happy to oblige their audience. Then all of them were talking to my belly and jockeying for position. After a few minutes, the babies got tired and stopped kicking, and the show was over. The clan pouted until somebody remembered there was dessert, and everything returned to normal. And a seven layer cake disappeared like magic.
Afterwards, Matt and I yakked in the kitchen about resuming his baking lessons, and we agreed after New Year’s we’d start again. "Oh and I want you to send me all the pictures you took of the baby kicking moments."
"All of them?"
I took his phone and scrolled through them — the one with Ted feeling the first kick was perfect, and I knew exactly what I’d do with it too. "Yes, every single one."
Ted appeared in the kitchen with my coat and bag in his hands. "Okay, little mama, time to go home."
When we pulled into the drive and parked, I felt her again and craned my neck looking for Ingrid. But again, nothing stirred but my imagination. Ted frowned and followed my gaze. "What are you looking for?"
I opened my door and said, "Nothing."
We went inside and straight to bed. Ted spooned me with his hand on my belly, and Boomer snuggled at my feet, under the covers. "Hoping for a repeat performance?"
Ted kissed my neck. "That was amazing."
I put my hand over his. "Now we know for sure that something is growing in there." I snuggled against him. "Before we know it, they’ll be here. The two little human beings that we made."
Ted pulled me closer. "Are you scared?"
"Are you?"
"Hell, yeah."
I turned and faced him. "You, the hotshot special forces guy, afraid of two tiny little babies?"
"I don’t want to fuck it up."
I stroked his cheek and kissed him softly. "You’ll be a great daddy."
"I hope you’re right."
I put his hand on my belly. "Is Mommy right, babies?" They kicked, one-two. I laughed. "See? They know who their daddy is."
Ted smiled and smoothed back my hair. "You’re not scared?"
I shook my head. "I probably should be, but I’m not. I don’t know how to explain it, but ever since I found out I was pregnant I’ve had this feeling. Like I’m wrapped in some kind of protective cocoon. Like nothing can hurt me." I laughed. "I know, sounds crazy, right? But I swear it’s there, it’s real."
Ted rubbed my belly. "You think it’s them? Protecting you?"
"I don’t know. But they say there’s a special connection women feel when they’re pregnant. And they’re right. So, yeah maybe it is them."
Ted slid down and put his head to my belly. "Are you taking care of Mommy, kids? Good job. We can’t wait to meet you."
Our babies kicked, one-two.
Chapter Thirty-Five
There’s a point at which Christmas takes over, and it’s impossible to think about or do anything else. People dropped by continually. Ted worked weird hours, and I never knew when he’d be home. Shopping. Errands. I finally accepted that my investigation into Rose’s death would have to wait until after the holidays.
Two days before Christmas, Matt, Ginny and the girls came over to help me make my special Christmas cake — red and green layers, encased in gold butter cream frosting, topped with edible ornaments, then wrapped in a web of spun sugar. A little something I invented for Zelda years ago. Since my family had expanded tenfold, we were making three cakes – one for Zelda, and two for the family Christmas dinner. I’d leave Zelda’s at her house as a surprise for her return home. The other two would stay locked in the pantry until Christmas Day.
Teaching my little nieces, Katy and Chelsea how to bake gave me a preview of what it would be like to have my own kids help me in the kitchen. We all got a kick out of their dedication to the process. With serious concentrated faces, they stood on stools at the butcher-block and put gold and silver sugar balls on the candy ornaments. When I let them decorate Zelda’s cake with the ornaments, they squeale
d with excitement. The presentation was a little more freestyle than usual, but their arrangement had a kind of beauty that only a child can create. Their big blue eyes widened as Matt and I spun sugar into a lacy ribbons around each cake. I was so proud of them, and they were such good little bakers that I made a miniature cake for them and let them go wild decorating it. And they were enraptured as their Uncle Matt wrapped it in spun sugar.
When it was done, I snapped the mini cake into a carrier and handed it to Ginny. She giggled and said, "You’re going to turn my girls into little pastry chefs too."
Chelsea and Katy hugged my legs. "It’s the most beautifulest cake ever Aunt Scotti. Thank you!"
We had a little hug-fest, and then Ginny and the girls left with the cake and a couple of tins of cookies.
Matt stood back and admired the three Christmas cakes. "Man, these are like art."
I clapped his back. "Then that must make us artists, little bro."
He grinned and nodded. "Yeah, guess it does."
I snapped the cake carrier lid on one of the cakes. "This one is for Zelda, so we’ll take it with us." Then I snapped the lids on the other two cakes then locked them in the pantry to keep them away from Ted’s greedy mitts. There were stlll plenty of Christmas cookies to deliver, and Matt volunteered to be my helper. "Ready?"
Matt had his hand in the cookie jar. "Ah yeah. Thought I’d get some fuel for the road."
I tossed him a plastic container. "No crumbs in the new ride."
We were taking my car, but Matt insisted on driving. Despite my ever-expanding belly, I was capable of driving a car, but it was easier to go along than argue the point for twenty minutes. I buckled my seatbelt, and Matt switched on the engine. He put his hand on my belly and said, "Okay, little dudes ready for the drive?"
Since the babies started kicking, everybody in the family was compelled to maul my belly and carry on conversations with them. "What are you doing?"
Matt stared at my belly. "Waiting for the high five."
Ted had bragged that every time he talked to the babies they responded with a one-two, so everyone expected the same response. I pushed Matt’s hand away. "Drive the car."
The early afternoon sun was bright, and the sky a clear winter blue — perfect driving weather. We did our best to skirt holiday traffic, but no matter what route we took, the roads were clogged. I turned up the radio, and we sang along to Christmas carols — if you can’t beat them, join them. Eventually, we made it to Zelda’s, and I was glad to get out of the car. We carried the cake and gifts inside and left them in the kitchen for her. I stood in my former kitchen, a little weepy. I loved my home with Ted, but I still missed the little cottage sometimes.
Matt squeezed my shoulder. "How’s Zee? Having a good time?"
I nodded. "She’s having a blast." I frowned at the quiet. "She said she’ll be home for Christmas, but once Zee starts having fun, she forgets everything else."
Matt put his arm around my shoulder. "She’ll be back soon."
I nodded and got weepy again thinking about how much I missed her. I had so much to tell her. And it was Christmas — the one time of the year that Zelda allowed herself to be sentimental. I nudged Matt toward the door and chuckled. "Hormones, right?"
Our next stop was at Franky the Copy King’s. I made Matt stay in the car because I didn’t want him to see what I was picking up. Franky was his usual cheerful self. "Such delicious cookies you make. My wife, she wants your recipe."
I shook my head. "Sorry Franky, trade secret." Putting a couple of tins on the counter, I said, "But here’s a few more for Christmas." I looked behind him. "Is it ready?"
Franky beamed and pulled out a large framed photo from under the counter. He held it up for me to examine. "How do you like?"
I giggled with joy. "It’s exactly what I wanted. Let’s wrap that puppy up." Franky had it wrapped in less than a minute. I got up on tip toes and peered over the counter. "Are the others ready too?"
Franky nodded and lifted a large box to the counter. "All ready."
"Perfect."
Franky put everything on a push cart and rolled it out to my car. Matt watched in the rearview mirror curious about my secret purchases from a copy store. I closed the hatch and locked it, then got into the passenger seat. "Okay little bro, let’s roll."
Matt continued to stare in the rearview mirror. "You’re not going to tell me?"
"Hell no."
He sighed and munched on a Christmas tree butter cookie. "Christmas man, too many secrets."
We ran a few errands and dropped off cookies on our way, edging toward home by taking Glenoaks. When we passed Hollywood Way, I thought of Rose in the cemetery a mile down the road. A few more blocks and we’d pass Jennifer’s street. I read the street signs as we passed. "Do you mind if we make a quick stop?"
"Sure, where?"
I pointed. "The next street after the light, turn left." Matt obliged and turned onto Brighton. I directed him down the street and told him to park when we reached Jennifer’s blue house. "Right here." Matt questioned me with his eyes. I smiled and pinched his cheek. "Christmas cookie delivery. Wait in the car?"
Matt switched off the engine. "Sure."
Armed with two tins of Christmas cookies, I went to Jennifer’s front door, hoping she wouldn’t slam it in my face. I wasn’t even sure she’d open the door, but it was Christmas, and she was my family — maybe we could find some common ground. Before I had a chance to ring the bell, Jennifer opened the door. "Hello."
I held out the cookie tins. "Merry Christmas."
Jennifer gave me a curious smile. "For me?"
I sighed. "I’m sorry about the other day. I just thought…."
Jennifer unlocked the screen door and held it open for me. "Come in."
I turned toward the car and held up five fingers to Matt. He nodded and I went inside. Again we stood in the entryway, but I hadn’t expected even that so I surged with the smallest of hopes. We stood looking at each other like two teenagers at their first dance. Finally, I said, "Don’t you like cookies?" Jennifer laughed, and I laughed too. "What am I saying, everybody likes cookies, right?"
She accepted the tins and held them closely. A wistful smile flitted across her face. "Rose used to make Christmas cookies too. I looked forward to them all year long." Shyly she said, "Thank you, Scotti. This was very thoughtful of you." She swept her arm toward the living room. "Why don’t you come in? I’ll make a pot of tea and we can enjoy these together."
My small patch of hope grew a little larger. "I’d love to, but I can’t." I jerked my thumb toward the door. "My brother-in-law is waiting, and we have more cookie deliveries to make." I gave her my card. "Rain check?"
Jennifer accepted the card. "All right. Perhaps I’ll call you — after the holidays?"
I nodded and opened the door. "Merry Christmas."
When I got back into the car, Matt gave me a questioning look, but I pretended not to notice. "Okay, little bro, we’ve got lots more cookies to deliver.
He started the car and nosed it toward Glenoaks. Looking in the rearview mirror he said, "Who was that?"
I looked out the window. "Just one of my many Christmas cookie recipients."
Matt didn’t push it, but I knew he didn’t believe me. By about seven, we’d delivered the rest of the cookies and headed for home. We drove in silence for a while, then Matt said, "Scotti?"
I turned to him. "Yeah?"
"Who was that lady really?"
Tears clogged my throat. "Nobody." I looked out the window. "Nothing for you to worry about it."
"Then why are you so bummed?"
I leaned my head against the window and said nothing. We drove in silence the rest of the way home. When Matt pulled into the drive I said, "She’s someone from my past. That’s all. It’s no big deal."
Matt twisted his lips. "Then why are you so freaked?"
I saw the lights on inside —Ted was home. "I’m not freaked."
Matt sighed. "Y
eah man, you are." He held up his hands. "But that’s cool, you don’t want to tell me, I understand. But you should tell Ted."
"Why? There’s nothing to tell."
"You know why, Scotti."
I watched the front door, expecting Ted to come out any second. "The thing about your big brother is that he tries to fix everything. And this isn’t something he can fix."
"But he’s got eyes."
I turned back to him. "So?"
"So, you hurt, he hurts. Doesn’t matter if you tell him, Scotti. He knows."
Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) Page 22
