by Joanne Fluke
“A Denver sandwich?” Hannah asked, smiling when her cat’s ears perked up. “With or without onions and peppers?”
Moishe’s expression changed slightly, something that only Hannah could interpret. At least she thought she could interpret it. Moishe wanted his portion without peppers or onions, and he’d appreciate it if she’d double the ham.
“Okay. I’ll call you when it’s ready. If you’re still interested in watching for the neighbors, you can see their unit from the back of the couch. It’s a lot more comfortable up there, and you won’t slip off the windowsill.”
Hannah spent the next few minutes chopping ham, green peppers, and onions, and wondering why a Denver sandwich was named after the mile-high city. She whipped up eggs in a glass with a fork, the way her Grandma Ingrid had done, and poured them into a buttered, preheated frying pan. She sprinkled chopped ham, minced green peppers, and finely chopped onions over the top, except for the section that would be the penumbra if her frying pan were a full moon. In that sickle-shaped portion, she put only ham and she made sure there was plenty of it.
In less than five minutes, Hannah’s sandwich was ready. She cut it into fourths diagonally, the way her grandmother had done to make it “special,” and arranged it on a green Fiestaware luncheon plate with the tips pointing out like a star. Then she dished up Moishe’s portion on a turquoise blue plate that set off the yellow of the eggs perfectly.
Hannah carried the two plates out to the living room. Using a Fiestaware plate for Moishe would have garnered her mother’s objections on two fronts. Delores believed that pets should have their own food bowls and never be fed from “people” dishes. She didn’t even think they should be mixed in the same load in the dishwasher. Hannah’s mother also loved antiques and family heirlooms. Letting Moishe use one of the six plates that Grandma Swensen had left Hannah would have positively horrified her.
Once their food was placed on the coffee table in front of the couch and the television was tuned to KCOW for the local news, Hannah called her cat down from the back of the couch.
Moishe’s ears swiveled forward at the sound of his name, but he didn’t move. Hannah fanned his plate with her hand so that he could catch the scent, but that didn’t do it either. As a last resort, she lifted the plate and held it in front of him, so he could see what was there. “What’s the matter, Moishe? Aren’t you hungry?”
“Rowww,” Moishe said, something that Hannah interpreted to mean she’d hit the nail on the head.
“Okay,” she told him. “I’ll leave your plate right here and you can have some when you’re ready. Be careful, though. If you break that plate, Mother will kill us both.”
The sound Moishe gave was more growl than comment. As Hannah watched, his eyes narrowed to slits, his hair puffed up to make him look larger to an opponent, and his tail switched back and forth. Mentioning her mother’s name always had this effect. Moishe hated Delores. Hannah figured it had started when they’d first met and Delores had tried to pick him up despite Hannah’s warning that he was still skittish around people. It had been a case of stubborn cat versus determined human, and stubborn cat had won. Delores had finally stopped trying to pick up Moishe, but it had taken a half-dozen pairs of shredded pantyhose to dissuade her.
“Sorry,” Hannah said, reaching up to smooth the hair on his back. “We won’t talk about her now.”
Moishe gave a sigh that convinced Hannah he understood and settled back down to stare out the window. As she ate her sandwich, Hannah divided her time between watching the news and watching her neighbors’ window, but she still didn’t see anything moving in Clara and Marguerite’s apartment. Was it possible that something was wrong and Moishe could sense it?
Hannah imagined a dire scenario. Clara hadn’t felt well this morning, so she’d sent Marguerite on to the hospital alone. And as the hours passed without her sister, Clara had become very ill, so ill that she couldn’t even get to the phone. Was she calling for help in a voice so weak only Moishe could hear it?
Just to make sure, Hannah picked up the phone and called the hospital. Yvonne Blair, Doc Knight’s secretary, answered.
“Hi, Yvonne,” Hannah greeted her. “I just wondered if the Hollenbeck sisters were there today.”
“They were, but they just left. I can probably catch up with them in the parking lot if you need me to.”
“No, that’s okay,” Hannah said quickly. “It wasn’t that important. I’ll catch up with them at home.”
“Okay. You’re going to the Miss Tri-County contest tonight, aren’t you?”
“Of course. Michelle’s one of the contestants.”
“I know. She was out here this morning with flowers for Edna Ferguson. Of course you probably know that since your name was on the card.”
“Right,” Hannah said, making a mental note to reimburse and thank her baby sister for something she should have done herself. “Is Edna on any kind of restricted diet? Or can I bring out some cookies?”
“Hold on and let me check the computer.”
While she waited for Yvonne to check, Hannah glanced over at the unopened computer boxes that sat on the floor under her desk. She’d been forced to buy it when she lost a bet last month and Norman had helped her pick it out. He’d offered to give her a crash course in computer technology right after the Tri-County Fair was over, and Hannah had accepted gratefully. She knew the basics, but she hadn’t used a computer since her college days and things had changed a lot since then. The computer industry was continually evolving. Her computer was aging right there in its box, and by the time she learned to use it, it would probably be several generations away from a state-of-the-art model.
“Doc’s marked her down for a normal diet,” Yvonne said, coming back on the line. “No restrictions at all. Feel free to bring cookies, Hannah. And if Doc’s directions change and Edna can’t have them, I’m sure they’ll find a good home.”
After promising to drop by with goodies, Hannah hung up the phone and turned to Moishe. He was still staring fixedly at the window next door. “There’s nobody home. I just checked.”
But that didn’t seem to make any difference to Moishe. He just kept staring as if the most fascinating thing was happening behind the curtains. Hannah stared, too, doing her best not to blink. For a minute or two that seemed like hours, absolutely nothing happened. And then Hannah gave a little gasp as she saw the curtain wiggle slightly.
“I saw it!” she told Moishe. “Was that what you were waiting for?”
Moishe gave her his Sphinx look, the one that said, I am the font of all knowledge, and I am inscrutable to a mere human person like you, and Hannah gave up. She wasn’t even sure she’d seen the curtain move, but if she had, there was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation. Marguerite and Clara had an attic air conditioner that had been installed when their unit was built. Clara suffered from chronic allergies, and Doc Knight had suggested it as a means of filtering out some of the pollens and allergens that turned her nose red, made her eyes water, and stuffed up her sinuses.
“See you later, Moishe,” Hannah said, after she’d carried their plates to the kitchen and scraped his uneaten food into his bowl. “You can watch their curtains wiggle while I go out to the fairgrounds to cheer on Michelle.”
Chapter Four
Hannah was so proud of her sister she was glad she hadn’t worn anything with buttons to pop. Michelle had looked truly gorgeous in the dazzling white satin, Grecian-style evening gown that Claire Rodgers, The Cookie Jar’s Main Street neighbor, had chosen for her to wear. According to the full-page acknowledgment in tonight’s program, Claire’s shop, Beau Monde Fashions, was selling the gowns that had been seen in tonight’s contest on a silent auction basis. If the contestants wanted the gown they’d worn, they could buy it at a fifty percent discount. But if a contestant didn’t want it, it went in Claire’s window to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.
“Genius,” Hannah said, catching Claire by the arm and pointing
to the page in the program.
“I think so, too.” Claire, a gorgeous blonde in her thirties with a svelte figure that Hannah would have done anything except diet to replicate, gave a little a laugh. “It was Bob’s idea.”
Hannah knew the Bob in question was Reverend Robert Knudson, Holy Redeemer Lutheran’s bachelor minister. Claire and Reverend Knudson wanted to get married, but there were complications. Most Lake Edenites, or whatever they wanted to call their collective noun, suspected that Claire had spent several years as their mayor’s mistress. No one could prove it, but that didn’t stop the tongues from wagging.
“Your mother already called me and said she wanted to buy Michelle’s dress,” Claire said. “It was gorgeous, wasn’t it?”
Hannah nodded. She was almost positive that Claire’s expertise was one of the reasons her sister had come in first in the evening gown competition. “It was absolutely wonderful. You couldn’t have chosen anything more perfect.”
“I thought so, too.” Claire gave Hannah a smile. “So do you think Michelle is going to win the Miss Tri-County crown?”
Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s almost as much of an unanswered question as yours.”
“Mine?”
“That’s right. When are you going to let Reverend Knudson announce your engagement?”
Claire gave a little sigh. “I think we might do it in the spring. Maybe people will have forgotten by then.”
“You’re kidding!” Hannah stared at her in total disbelief. “Lake Eden’s a small town. People in small towns are like elephants.”
“You mean they never forget?”
“Not unless it’s their last promise to their wife,” Hannah said. And then she wished she hadn’t. This wasn’t the time for joking. “I think Reverend Knudson should announce it this summer, Claire.”
“Why this summer?”
“Because summer is the most popular time for weddings, and people have love on their minds. They’re so busy with weddings in their own families, they won’t have time to think about yours.”
“You’re sure?” Claire looked doubtful.
“No, but it’s worth a try. And if there’s gossip, you’ll ride it out.” Hannah thought about it for a moment, and then she played her ace in the hole. “Which would you rather…announce it now? Or have somebody accuse you of having an affair with Reverend Knudson?”
“They wouldn’t!” Claire looked shocked.
“They would. If I were you, I’d head them off at the pass and make the announcement soon.”
Claire thought about it for a long moment, and then she sighed. “You’re right. I’ll let Bob do it at the end of August. That’s when a lot of people go on vacation. If we do it the last Sunday in August, you’ll be there, won’t you?”
“You got it,” Hannah said, thankful that this was only June and she had over two full months to figure out how to get Reverend Knudson’s congregation to embrace Claire with open arms.
“Stop in tomorrow,” Claire said. “I’ve got in a new shipment, and there’s a matching pants and top set that’s absolutely perfect for you.”
Hannah wavered. She really couldn’t afford any new clothes, but when Claire said something was perfect, it was. And since Claire always gave her a generous discount, she caved in. “Okay,” she promised. “But this hasn’t been a really flush month.”
“When have I ever overcharged you?”
“Never,” Hannah hastened to say. “It’s just that Doug Greerson down at the bank is getting ready to rip out the rest of the checks in my checkbook so I won’t be tempted to bounce one.”
“It’s that bad?” Claire looked concerned.
“Well…not quite that bad.”
“Come in tomorrow and try on that outfit. If you like it, I’ll give it to you at my cost. When you opened The Cookie Jar, my business doubled. People walk up the street to have cookies and coffee, and they look at the display in my window. You have no idea how many of your customers come in to try on something they’ve seen after they leave your place.”
“Really?”
“That’s right. And I’m not even counting your mother. Every time she comes in, she buys something.”
“Mother can afford it.” Hannah glanced at her watch and slipped into a faster gear. “I’ve got to run, Claire. I’m judging the baked goods contest tonight.”
“Good luck,” Claire said, taking her cue. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hannah.”
After Claire left, Hannah glanced around. People were still filing out of the auditorium, and it was time to make herself scarce. There was somewhere she had to go, and she had to do it fast. If she hurried, she’d have just enough time for the clandestine treat she’d decided to enjoy before she joined Willa and Pam at the Creative Arts Building.
Less than two minutes later, Hannah rounded the corner by the deep-fried candy bar booth. She was slightly out of breath, and she stopped to let her breathing return to a normal rate. There was a friendly-looking woman sitting on a stool behind the counter, and her nametag read RUBY in bright red block letters. No one else was in line at the moment, and Hannah stepped up to place her order.
“What’ll it be, Ma’am?” the woman named Ruby asked. And that meant Hannah had to come to a decision. She’d been debating the merits of a Milky Way and a Snickers bar all day. She knew full well she shouldn’t indulge in a deep-fried candy bar, especially since she’d be sampling coffeecake, cinnamon bread, and sweet rolls in less than fifteen minutes. But all day long she’d been dreaming about a deep-fried candy bar. It was driving her crazy, and the only way to stop thinking about it was to have one.
“Ma’am?” Ruby prodded her back to the present, and there was a knowing smile on her face. “It’s hard to choose, isn’t it?”
“Does the Milky Way have the original milk chocolate? Or is it the kind with the semi-sweet dark chocolate?”
“It’s the original with milk chocolate. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“You like the milk chocolate best?” Hannah asked, interpreting her comment.
“You got it right. I don’t understand why they wanted to mess with something that was already perfect.”
“Neither do I.”
“I felt the same way when they came out with peanuts in the M&Ms. And I really hate the new Hershey’s Kisses with fruit and nuts. They’re supposed to melt in your mouth without chewing, you know?”
“I know.” Hannah felt she’d found a kindred soul. “I really shouldn’t have a deep-fried candy bar at all. I’m judging the baked goods contest in less than fifteen minutes.”
Ruby threw back her head and laughed. “You’re right. You shouldn’t. These things are loaded with calories and you can’t take just one bite. Once you taste it, you have to finish the whole thing. It’s addictive.”
“How many calories does it have?” Hannah asked, hoping that if she didn’t eat anything except lettuce for the next two days, she could have one without gaining weight.
“Believe me, you don’t want to know!”
“That bad?”
“Worse. I started to figure it out once, but I quit when I got up to a thousand. I figured it wasn’t a real good selling point.”
“You’re right,” Hannah said, hoping it wasn’t quite as bad as Ruby was making out. “I’ve got to taste one, though. I’ve been dreaming about it ever since I walked past your booth this morning.”
“Okay. What kind of candy bar do you want?”
“I’m still trying to decide between the Milky Way and the Snickers. Which one do you…” Hannah stopped speaking and whirled around as she heard someone calling her name. “Uh-oh!” she said with a groan. “It’s my mother!”
“Caught in the act?” Ruby asked, and something about her smile told Hannah that the same thing must have happened with other customers and other mothers.
“That’s right. She’s always after me to lose weight, and…”
“Say no more,” Ruby interrupted her with a wink.
“I’ll take care of it for you.”
Hannah remained silent. It seemed that Ruby was a pro in situations like this.
“I think I saw her,” Ruby said when Delores was within earshot. “She came past here about five minutes ago, and she headed off toward the Ferris wheel.”
Hannah winked back, and then she turned to face Delores. “Hi, Mother. Did you happen to see Lisa?”
“Not tonight.” Delores had looked as if she were loaded for bear, but her eyebrows settled and Hannah knew she was biting back a lecture on saturated fats, empty calories, and elevated cholesterol levels. Ruby had effectively defused the Mother-bomb, and Hannah owed her at least a dozen cookies in return for the favor.
“I’m glad to see you, dear. But for a minute there I thought that you…never mind.”
Hannah turned back to Ruby. “Thanks for the information. Those deep-fried candy bars look like real killers.”
“They are, but there’s no way I could make a living selling deep-fried lettuce.”
Hannah burst into laughter, but her mother looked intrigued. “I wonder if it would be good.”
“I’m not sure,” Ruby said. “Maybe not, because lettuce is mostly water. That’s what makes it such a great diet food.”
Delores stepped a bit closer to the counter. “That’s true.”
“I’ve had deep-fried broccoli, and it’s delicious,” Ruby continued. “Carrots and sweet potatoes are good, too.”
Delores nodded quickly “You’re right. Are you with the carnival? Or do you live around here?”
“I’m with the carnival. I’m married to Riggs. He’s the announcer at the rodeo.”
“I heard him this afternoon on my way to the Lake Eden Historical Society booth,” Delores said. “He has a wonderful voice.”
