“I tell you I need some time and you follow me to Europe? I'll be getting a restraining order as soon as I get back. You should find another project.”
“You think you're a project? Listen.” He dodged around a man wiping sweat from his forehead as he trudged past. “This isn't what you think?”
“The man who was stalking me at my home is not now stalking me in Italy?”
“No. Gladys gave me her travel voucher. Now I understand why she was so specific about the where and when.”
Mina narrowed her eyes, waiting. Gladys had done the same with her. Mina wasn’t about to argue about the details of a free trip, but she’d thought it was strange.
It was possible that Gladys wasn't done meddling.
“And you didn't tell me?”
“I didn't know you'd be here too. She said you didn't want to go. I thought it would be a nice distraction while you were, you know, figuring things out. I wanted to see if I could make a go of this again.” He held up the camera.
Mina felt her shoulders relax. Calvin moved toward her, and she let him grab her hand.
“Let's go somewhere we can talk.”
He pulled Mina down three more sets of stairs until they stood outside a bakery. The scent of fresh bread and pastries drifted out the door, reminding Mina how hungry she was.
There was an open space around the shop, and Mina felt her chest relax. She hadn't realized how tense she'd been navigating the narrow passageways among so many other people while trying to make sense of Calvin's presence in Positano.
“I saw you on the plane,” he blurted. “I was afraid you'd think—what you thought. So I traded my first class seat for one in the back. I tried to stay out of your way. I know this is hard for you.”
“What?” She breathed him in, and for a moment forgot to breathe out.
He moved closer, so she felt his breath on her face, and his lip twitched.
“This.”
She felt herself leaning in.
As much progress as she had made, when Calvin asked her to go to Chicago with him, she told him no. Panic had settled over her. It wasn't just the trip, it was letting him in. She wasn't sure she was ready to break down all her walls in one go.
“Hungry?” Calvin tipped his head toward the shop and pulled her in after him.
Mina stood before the large glass case of fresh bread, butter cookies, biscotti, cream-filled cannoli, and plenty of things she didn't recognize. They were works of art in various sizes and textures.
“Vorrei che per sei brutti ma buoni per favore,” Calvin said in halting Italian. “I only speak enough to get by,” he said, turning to Mina.
The man's heavy grey brows lifted above his large eyes, and he laughed.
“That's the truth.”
Calvin grinned sheepishly as the man dropped the cookies into a bag.
“Anything else for you?” Calvin asked Mina.
“I'll take one of those.” She pointed to a golden-crusted loaf of bread and the man wrapped it up for her.
They paid and took their food to a tiny table in front of the shop where they sat in the spindly iron chairs. Calvin opened the bag.
“You ever had one of these?” he asked, handing her a cookie.
She shook her head.
“A friend of mine told me the Italian name. It means 'ugly but good'.” He snickered.
It was a meringue cookie with a light sheen, but it was misshapen and full of cracks.
“I thought of you when I saw them,” he said.
“I guess that's better than 'pretty but mean'.” she said, laughing.
“No,” he held his hands out. “I didn't mean that. I just thought you'd like all the interesting cookies they have here.”
“Because of my mom.”
“Yeah, and I hear you're a great baker. Gladys told me.”
She smiled, examining the cookie. The wheels began spinning in her head.
“Maybe you should take some photos for me, and I'll put them on my blog.”
“Sure. You're going to have a cookie blog now?”
“Maybe. Cookies from around the world. Or maybe I'll make cookies and sell them after I satisfy my wanderlust. Who knows? The future's wide open now.” Her chest tightened again.
He studied her face. “That's not a good thing?”
“Of course it is, but sometimes it's overwhelming. One moment I'm so happy and free, and then suddenly I'm tempted to fly back into my cage.”
Calvin pointed to Mina's notebook.
“Can I see that?”
She hesitated before slowly passing it to him.
“Okay.”
He tore out an empty page and took a pen from his pocket. After ripping off a strip of paper, he scribbled something on it. Then he rolled it up tightly and crammed it into one of the cracks in Mina's cookie.
She stared at it. “You made an Italian fortune cookie for me?”
“Go on. Read it.”
Mina took out the tiny paper and unrolled it.
“The best view is reached one step at a time.” She smiled, rubbing her calves. “Tell me about it.”
He held up a finger, then ripped another scrap of paper off and scribbled on it. He stuck it in the cookie.
Mina pulled it out. “If the road ahead is hard to see, maybe you just need an extra set of eyes.” She watched him squirm in his chair. “Or I could use a flashlight.”
“It was worth a try.”
“No, it sounded good. Very ... mystic. Now that I am wiser, mind if I eat this?” She bit into the cookie. It was crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, with a nutty flavor.
They finished up the cookies in silence, Mina's heart fluttering in its cage as she debated whether to step over that imaginary line and leave the green sign behind her again.
“Calvin?”
“Yeah?”
“I wanted to go down to the beach with all the umbrellas, but I was having a hard time finding the way.”
He smiled. “Are you saying you need an extra set of eyes?”
She shrugged. “We're here. We might as well see a few things together.”
They made their way down to the beach, stopping to grab some vegetables and cheese for their bread on their way down. They took two chairs under a yellow-and-red-striped umbrella. Mina could see the green-blue color of the ocean as well as hear the lapping of the waves on the shore. The sky wasn't clear blue, like in her dream; white and grey clouds bunched up throughout the blue, skidding across the sun on occasion, as it should be.
Mina jotted down every detail in her notebook, along with how the umbrella looked from underneath with the light shining through, the perfection of fresh bread, vegetables and cheese for lunch, and how Calvin's hand felt wrapped up in hers.
The End
Other books by Jessica L. Randall, Newsletter, & Other Fun Stuff
The Obituary Society
The Obituary Society’s Last Stand
Morning Glory Murder: A Pleasant View Estates Mystery
Keeper
Golden Hood
You might also like these sweet romances by Kate Ashgrove, whose style you might find very similar to my own ;)
Lovers’ Quarrel
Battling the Billionaire
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I hope you enjoy the following family recipes, and a sample from the The Obituary Society’s Last Stand. Don’t miss it. It’s my favorite!
Dan’s Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies
I love fancy, super rich desserts, but when it comes down to it, if I had to choose just one treat it would be soft on the inside, slightly crispy on the outside, filled with gooey chocolate, comfort-food, chocolate chip cookies.
My husband makes them the best, so here is his recipe.
2 sticks butter (leave them out to soften)
¾ cup brown sugar
½ cup whi
te sugar
2 large eggs
2 tsp. vanilla (get the real stuff! And don’t worry if it overflows a bit. Yum.)
1 tsp. baking soda
¾ tsp. salt
2 ½ cups white flour
2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips (the best part!)
Preheat oven to 350 (although Dan says he experiments with the temperature-that’s just to throw us all off, I guess. A guy’s gotta keep some secrets.)
Set the timer for 10 min but watch for them to turn slightly golden brown on the edges, or however you like them. I like mine on the gooey side.
Aldene’s Chocolate Popcorn
My mom used to make this for us growing up. She used a fudge recipe and made up the combination herself.
Mix together:
4 cups sugar
3-4 Tbsp. cocoa
Add:
1 1/3 cups milk
4 Tbsp. corn syrup
Stir over medium heat until reaches softball stage. (Pour a spoonful into cold water & it forms a soft, jellied ball when rolled with fingers.)
Take off heat and add:
4 Tbsp. butter
1 tsp. vanilla
Pour over popcorn & stir until coated ... then eat!
A favorite from Dad.
Inspiration Cake
This is a fluffy white cake with Hershey’s candy bar added and chocolate frosting. It’s a family favorite.
Mix 1 white cake mix according to directions.
Grease and flour two 8 inch round cake pans.
Sprinkle the bottom of each pan with finely chopped pecans.
Carefully pour in ½ of the cake batter – spreading evenly.
Cover the batter with grated Hershey’s chocolate bar. (You can use the food processor.)
Pour in the last half of cake batter.
Bake as directed.
Frost with Grandma Katie’s Special Chocolate frosting.
Dad and Heather’s favorite birthday cake!
Grandma Katie’s Special Chocolate Frosting
Beat 2 egg whites.
Fold in ¾ cup powdered sugar.
Separate bowl - mix:
1/4 cup - 6 Tbsp butter, softened
2 squares melted unsweetened chocolate (1 oz)
Vanilla
Sprinkle of salt
¾ cup powdered sugar
Fold both together. (Or use the mixer if you are not feeling patient at the moment.)
Easily frosts a 9x13.
Barely frosts two 9 inch layers (I like to make 1 ½ recipe to do a layer cake.)
Jessica’s Peanut Butter Brownies
If you could see the actual index card, you would know that this recipe is well-loved. It has my college room-mate’s name on the top. Penned beside it is “made famous by Dan”. Everyone wants to claim them. I’m fighting for ownership, because I get so little culinary credit. They work great for large groups, because you bake them in a cookie pan.
Cream these 8 ingredients:
¾ cup butter
¾ cup brown sugar
¾ cup white sugar
¾ cup peanut butter
2 eggs
¾ tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
½ tsp. vanilla
NEXT add these ingredients alternately:
1 ½ cups flour
1 ½ cups oats
Bake at 350 for 12 minutes. Take them out when they are starting to turn golden on the edges. They might not look quite done but be careful not to overbake. You don’t want them to get dry.
Frost with your favorite chocolate frosting. We use the Betty Crocker no-cook one, with the boiling water. I can’t post it here, of course.
Old Brownie Pudding – or a Devil’s Float
Here’s a fun, old-timey recipe for you. It makes a kind of heavy cake with pudding. To tell you the truth, it’s not my favorite, but many in my family still make and love it.
Sift together:
1 cup sifted flour
¾ cup sugar
2 tablespoon cocoa
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoon baking powder
Add and stir till smooth:
½ cup milk
2 Tablespoon oil (canola or safflower)
1 teaspoon vanilla
½ cup chopped nuts (pecans or walnuts are good)
Pour into a greased 8x8x2 pan.
Mix together and sprinkle over batter:
¾ cup brown sugar
¼ cup cocoa
Pour or spoon over all:
1 and ¾ cup boiling water
Bake in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes. (Grandma bakes 30 min instead for more pudding.) Serve with whipped cream or ice cream.
Servings: 6-8
Note: To make Dad’ favorite Deviled Float: Use 3 Tablespoons cocoa
The Obituary Society’s Last Stand
Chapter 1
The Little Ghost Boy
Juniper lay stretched across the limb of a large cottonwood tree, staring down at the pond. She wasn’t supposed to be here. For as far back as she remembered, she’d been warned to keep away. It was a reasonable request. She’d seen someone nearly drown here once, and there were other things. Things she’d heard about when she’d settled quietly into some nook or corner, listening when they’d all forgotten she was there.
People called them The Obituary Society when they weren’t in close enough range to get a thwack from a spatula, because they liked to clip obituaries from the paper, and cluck and shake their heads as they discussed the most recent tragic demise. Juniper knew they were more than that, though. She liked to think of them as a gang of super sleuth grandmas. They knew everything about everyone. Sometimes it was things like who put their fence two feet into someone else’s property or sprayed their weeds too close to their neighbors begonias, but some of their conversations were far from trivial, and they had gone to great lengths, even having a few brushes with the law, to get information or interfere when a friend was in need.
When Juniper was younger her grandma had let her come along to the meetings. Later, when she wasn’t supposed to be there, she’d sneak to the top of the stairs to eavesdrop. It was a source of comfort to have all those maternal figures in one room, especially during the time she was sorely lacking in the mother department. She listened to how they talked to each other, even mimicking them at school sometimes to try and make friends. But the kids at school didn’t care about how to bake a cheesecake without a single crack, or make caramel syrup that didn’t crystalize (add a marshmallow or a dollop of corn syrup, by the way). It was her dad that wanted her to have friends, anyway. Juniper always felt more comfortable among the wise and weathered ladies that had always surrounded her like a brood of fierce but feather-soft hens.
Juniper was almost sixteen now. Her grandma didn’t want her coming to the meetings anymore. She didn’t want her to hear what they were saying. Juniper still listened in at the top of the stairs, though, when they met at Grandma Gladys’s house or when her step-mom, Lila, was hosting. It wasn’t just for comfort or entertainment anymore. The dark undercurrent that had long flowed beneath their conversations, bobbing to the surface in an occasional comment that sent a chill clear up the stairs had become stronger.
It was like when she’d gone to Betsy’s niece’s wedding with her grandma last June, and at first everyone ignored the light rain pitter-pattering and raised their voices over the thunder, believing they could will the storm to pass. But before long everyone could see that it was coming, wedding or no wedding, and they all threw their programs over their heads and readied themselves for the inevitable disaster. Juniper always believed these women could handle any situation. But she understood now that her group of grandmothers were in trouble. The whole town was in trouble.
“The Pond” had often come up in their meetings, always in a hushed sort of way. For years they’d been discussing what to do about it. They’d become experts in the field of supernatural events, and tried one thing after another, but it wasn’t
working. It was only getting worse.
So Juniper started coming to the pond, to see for herself what was going on. This was the place it had all started, after all. She’d figured out long ago that her grandma’s best friend Ada’s no-good husband David was unceremoniously laid to rest in the pond’s depths long ago, an event that was more or less repeated with his no-good son Asher years later. They were both spirits that hadn’t taken to resting very well.
As creepy as the thought was, Juniper had to admit, it was a relief when she finally gave in and sneaked across the yard and through the tangled trees to the quiet pond. There was so much lost-ness here, and Juniper was a finder of the lost. If she could only figure out how to return those wayward spirits.
There was another reason she was here, too. Her grandmother had lost something. She wouldn’t admit it, but Juniper knew it was true, and could tell that it was important. That tugging sensation inside her insisted it was here, but she couldn’t find it, which didn’t make sense.
Juniper was distracted from her thoughts by a whisper from the surface of the water. She stiffened, squinting her brown eyes in concentration. Then she waited, keeping perfectly still as she often did when there was information to be gained from being nearly invisible.
The tip of a head emerged from the water. Then the familiar little face. It was him again. She sighed with relief, even though she hadn’t really expected anyone else. The others never came while she was watching, but she didn’t know what she’d do if they did.
In a way she felt bad for them. They were troubled, but they were so darn mean—and getting angrier all the time. She’d heard Lila say that they were only hanging around out of spite. She wasn’t sure. They’d been lost souls even when they were alive. She’d felt it when Asher kidnapped her when she was seven years old. He was more alive at the time, of course. She’d been afraid, but she’d also seen his unhappiness, his search for where he belonged. Even she couldn’t have helped him with that. She’d never figured out how to help confused and lost souls, or maybe she would have been able to help her mother, who now resided in The Nebraska Correctional Center for Women.
The Stranger's Obituary Page 17
