by Jenny Kales
Callie walked back to the kitchen where she poured herself some coffee and pulled a hot roll from a tray in the kitchen. She popped a piece in her mouth and sighed. The rich cinnamon flavor, flaky pastry and rich creamy frosting dispelled the last remnants of her horrible dream.
“Hey, how’s it going?” he greeted her. “Aren’t these great? I made the dough when I got in and have been baking them all morning.”
“Thanks, Max. There IS something about a cinnamon, isn’t there? Especially when it gets chilly outside.” Shuddering, Callie remembered the cinnamon coffee cakes she’d baked for Lucille’s meeting at the First Bank of Crystal Bay. That had been her only big order in quite a while.
Customers or no, her business was still officially open and there was food to prep, an activity that was normally quite soothing to Callie. It required concentration but it also served as a balm to frayed nerves. Cut up the fruit and vegetables, cube the butter, peel the potato, and stir the soup. The work you did with your two hands had an immediate result – a delicious finished dish. Comfort food could be just as comforting to prepare as it was to eat.
Caught up in her food prep work, it took Callie a minute before she realized that Max was no longer ringing up their meager amount of customers. He’d rejoined her in the back of the shop to clean up the cinnamon roll ingredients and dough scraps.
“Max,” Callie said adding salt and pepper to the avgolemono, aka Greek egg-lemon soup, she was stirring. “I’d like to meet with Piper about social media. I don’t know if it will help attract customers in the current climate, but maybe I can create some more positive buzz around Callie’s Kitchen. At least I’ll feel like I’m doing something.”
“Sweet. Great idea. Why don’t you get in touch with her and arrange a time? She’d love to help, I know it.”
“That’s wonderful,” Callie answered, feeling her shoulders relax a bit. “I have to pop out later, but I’ll be here by 4:00 pm. My ex-husband is stopping by to take our daughter to his house for a few days. You know, just until things settle down around here.”
Max nodded. “Piper has school and work today, so I’ll text her and see what she can do.”
That settled, Callie wrapped up some kitchen duties, and glancing at her wall clock, decided if she was going to visit Lucille today, she better do it now.
Callie packed up some kourabiethes and a few of the cinnamon rolls for Lucille. She would skip the flowers in the interest of time. Food would have to be enough of a gift for her injured friend and client. Telling Max she would be back within the hour, she hopped in her VW and set off in the direction of Lucille’s apartment.
Callie took the long way to Lucille’s in an effort to calm down and focus. Lucille lived on the outskirts of town, near Crystal Bay College. Scenic Lake Shore Road, while not the most direct route, offered a pleasant view. The trees along the lakefront were some of the most colorful in town, and Callie enjoyed their beauty as she cruised purposefully along.
Soon she pulled up to a modern townhouse in a newer development set back from the main road. A small park with playground equipment and benches had clearly been designed to attract families with children. The semi-attached one-story home had six concrete steps leading up to the front door, which held a pretty wreath of dried summer flowers and a sign that said “Welcome.”
But would she be welcome? Callie wondered if she should have called before stopping by, even though one of the bank tellers had told her over the phone that Lucille was resting at home today.
Hoping that she wasn’t interrupting a peaceful nap, Callie rang the doorbell and waited. She heard soft footsteps approaching almost immediately and she let out her breath with a whoosh of relief.
“Oh! Hi, there,” Lucille greeted her with most of her usual perkiness, but her eyes looked tired and she seemed pale. “What a nice surprise. Are those for me?” she asked, taking the cookie boxes.
“I thought you might enjoy some sweets. Plus, I wanted to stop by and see how you were feeling. Is it OK if I come in for a minute? Or am I disturbing your rest?”
“Are you kidding? I’m so bored I could spit. My head is killing me or I’d be at work today. Nothing is on TV and my head hurts too much to read. Please, come in.” Lucille ushered Callie into the townhouse and closed the door. Callie looked around the room and spotted a slim console table. “Mind if I leave my purse here, right by the door? Otherwise, I might forget it. It’s been that kind of week.”
“Sure.” Lucille shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
Slowly, the young woman padded down the short hallway in front of Callie. She wore big pink fuzzy slippers that clashed with her fashionable, slim-fitting terry sweatpants and sweatshirt. Callie stifled a smile – big pink fuzzy slippers were exactly what she would expect Lucille to wear around the house.
Lucille’s sunny living room had a comfy looking sofa that was currently occupied a large gray cat. It looked balefully at Callie, and then went back to napping.
“Before I sit down, can I get you anything? I’m going to put these goodies in the kitchen and I was going to make some tea.”
The idea of caffeine was too tempting for Callie to resist. “I’d love some tea. Thank you. Sure I can’t get it?”
“No, I’ve been sitting around way too much as it is. Why don’t you have a seat?”
Lucille padded into the kitchen, which was right next to the front entryway and Callie sank down onto a chair. A table in front of the sofa was littered with newspapers and magazines: People, Us Weekly, Food and Wine, The Food Network magazine, various fashion magazines and The Wall Street Journal.
“I didn’t know you were so into food,” Callie called to Lucille.
“Oh, I am,” Lucille called back. “I love to bake, especially. I really admire what you do, in fact.”
“Well, I’d like to sample some of your creations,” Callie said, picking up the Food Network magazine and flipping through an article about making your own candy corn. Fascinating. Would she have patience to make her own candy and sell it at the shop? It could be a nice thing to offer, but it would depend on how time-consuming it was. What about homemade caramel apples for fall? That might work.
Lost in her shop-improvement thoughts, it took a minute before Callie realized that Lucille seemed to be taking a very long time in the kitchen; was she feeling weak and was just too proud to say so? She knew the feeling.
Callie stood up to offer her friend some assistance, but just at that moment, Lucille returned from the direction of the front hallway, holding two mugs. “I thought I heard the door.” Lucille looked puzzled and her pretty face was decidedly paler. “This head injury has me seeing and hearing things, I swear!”
“You’d better sit down.” Callie held Lucille’s elbow to steady her. “You’re not looking very well.”
Lucille didn’t appear to hear; she was talking to her cat. “Come on, Matilda,” Lucille said, placing the two cups of tea on a side table and resuming her reclining position on the sofa. Callie returned to her chenille-covered chair facing the window. The cat looked up and went back to sleep by Lucille’s feet. “That cat,” said Lucille. “She loves to snuggle usually, but today she seems wary of me. She’s mad that I left her when I went to the hospital, I think.”
That provided Callie with the perfect opening. “I’m so sorry to hear about your attack. I’m just happy that you’re going to be all right.”
“You and me both,” answered Lucille. “I was certain I was a goner there for a minute.”
An awkward silence ensued and Callie broke the ice first. “Lucille, what happened exactly? Do you feel up to talking about it?”
“I guess so,” said Lucille. Matilda finally crept up on her lap and she sat absently stroking the cat while it purred contentedly. “I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to figure out who would have wanted to hurt me and I truly have no idea.”
“Did the assailant say anything when they, uh, hit you?” Callie asked.
Lucille blanched a
bit and didn’t answer right away. “Sorry,” Callie said. “I know this is emotional for you.”
Lucille shook her head and looked pained. “Ouch. I keep forgetting not to move my head too much,” she said, smiling weakly. “It’s not you. The whole thing was just so strange. There I was, relaxing in the hot whirlpool and the next thing I know, someone has a death grip on my neck. I mean, really squeezing. Then, they whisper in my ear ‘You’re dead.’
Sixteen
“Lucille, that’s awful!” Callie cried.
“Tell me about it,” Lucille replied. “Then, before I can blink, everything goes totally black. I woke up on the side of the pool, my skin on fire and my eyes all cloudy and feeling woozy.” She gave Callie a self-depreciating grin. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t at my best for the paramedics. Some of them are so hot in this town, you know?”
Callie had to laugh and Lucille shrugged and giggled along with her. “So obviously you told the police about your attacker and what was said to you,” Callie said, determined to get a straight answer.
“Yep. Including that one detective with the accent. I asked him how he wound up in Crystal Bay and he said ‘The usual way a man winds up anywhere. A woman.’ He was really nice, funny too. Like he wanted to put me at ease.”
Callie took that in. Sands was charming, no doubt, especially if he didn’t suspect you of foul play. Then again, Drew had been charming too, and look where that had gotten him.
“Lucille, did the voice sound male or female?” Callie asked.
The young woman stretched and shifted her body. She yawned before answering. “The detective asked me the same question. It might sound weird, but I just don’t know. Sometimes I think it was a woman and sometimes I think it was a man. They were whispering, so their voice probably sounded different than if they had been speaking at full volume.”
Drat, Callie thought. “You’ve been through some serious trauma. I can see that you’re getting tired, so I won’t stay.” Callie stood up and gathered up her bag. “Is anyone looking after you? I could drop off some food after work if you like. Ready-to-eat meals – how about it?”
“The doctor told me to eat light with a head injury. I don’t know – do you have any chicken soup or anything like that?”
“Yes,” Callie answered, thinking of her special avgolemono soup. “I’ve got just the thing for you. I’ll drop it off later.”
Lucille yawned again. “That would be great, thanks. My mom is coming by today but she can’t cook. Don’t tell her I said so.” The young woman reclined back on the sofa, seemingly exhausted. “I’d see you to the door but I’m getting really tired. Thanks so much for stopping by. I’ll look forward to the soup. Can you just slam the door really tightly when you leave? It will lock behind you.”
“You bet. Take care of yourself, Lucille. Hope you’re back to your old self soon.” Lucille nodded and then sank down in the pillows contentedly, the cat asleep on her lap.
Callie retrieved her bag from the front hallway, carefully closed the door behind her and then tried the lock. It didn’t budge, so she walked down the steps, thinking.
Lucille had been indiscreet about several people. However, Callie had always considered herself to be one of Lucille’s special confidantes for no other reason than the young bank worker was very free with her information. What if this chatty young woman viewed others as special confidantes, too? She was very friendly and just about every business person in town had an account at the First Bank of Crystal Bay. Her attack did not sound random. Or did someone simply think she knew something, based on the fact that she was viewed as a busybody?
Hardly anyone was on the road, so Callie was back at work shortly. She washed her hands at the separate hand-washing sink and checked on her pastitsio or Greek macaroni, as Olivia called it. It was baking on low heat – Max had obviously kept an eye on it while she was at Lucille’s house and it gave off a tantalizing aroma.
“Thanks for watching the oven,” she called to Max as he returned to the kitchen. If nobody showed up, pastitsio would freeze well, but after today, Callie might have to start watching her use of fresh ingredients. She chewed on a pencil as she debated canceling a few orders with suppliers. But would that do more harm than good?
Just then the bells over the door jingled and in walked Olivia with Hugh and oh, goody, Raine. Telling herself to be nice, she walked out to greet her daughter.
“Hi honey,” she said greeting Olivia first and bending down to give her daughter a hug. “Hi, Hugh, Raine,” she said straightening up and tugging her T-shirt more firmly over her waist. “Where’s George? He was bringing Olivia to me.”
Hugh opened his mouth to answer, but Raine, laughing, cut him off. “Oh, we all got here at the same time, isn’t that just so funny? So we thanked George and said we can take it from here.”
Raine looked straight into Callie’s eyes. “Your dad is just so wonderful. And what a character!” She sighed and tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Callie knew that Raine’s father had died a few years previously, so perhaps she was sincere in her effusive admiration for George.
Raine was a striking woman, something that Callie realized anew each time she came into contact with her. And she couldn’t be more unlike Callie. Raine was tall and buxom, with a large frame and a pretty, girl-next-door face. Her long blonde hair hung in waves and her fashion choices were a dizzying array of colorful team sweatshirts and holiday-themed sweaters.
Today Raine was resplendent in a bright yellow and green Packers hoodie, jeans and Nikes. She looked a bit like an overgrown cheerleader, the complete opposite of Callie’s darker, more ethnic looks.
Not a bad person at all, thought Callie. Just, a little much at times. But apparently, her bubbly nature was a hit with Hugh. He beamed at Raine. “Yes, I’ve always liked George myself. He’s a good guy.”
Pleased to have her sometimes difficult father praised, Callie smiled faintly and addressed her daughter. “Do you have everything you need?”
“We packed last night. Remember?” Olivia was bouncing around, looking ready to go. In her heart, Callie was glad her daughter was excited once again. She would hate to send her off miserable, even though she was missing her already.
“Hugh, I think I’ve got all the asthma meds and stuff in there. You guys can call me any time if you have questions or need anything. I’ll leave my cell phone on.” Callie stopped herself when she realized that she sounded a bit desperate. Things would be fine. Her daughter would have fun. Raine would eventually change into a sweatshirt that wasn’t so neon.
Hugh hugged Olivia to his hip. “I think we’ll be OK, but thanks. You ready to go?”
“Yes!” Olivia said enthusiastically and everybody laughed. Raine sounded like a bubbling brook.
“Sweetie, why don’t you take Livvie to the car,” Raine addressed Hugh. “I just want to look at all this good food! I might pick up some food for us to take home.”
Hugh looked more closely at his wife, suspiciously, it seemed to Callie. “I’ll see you out there. Bye, Callie.” Olivia hugged her mother and then skipped out of the shop before Callie could say “Don’t forget to take a shower tonight!” Maybe that was just as well. She got the feeling she was nagging her daughter too much lately.
Callie was so engrossed in thinking about how quiet her house would be that night without Olivia that she wasn’t immediately aware that Raine was gazing at her with an intense, sympathetic look on her face. She had stepped closer to Callie and frankly, she was invading her personal space.
“Raine, let me show you some of our specials for today,” Callie offered, taking a step back. What was up with this woman?
“Oh, sure, maybe in a minute. That was just an excuse to talk to you. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about your boyfriend. What horrible news! We read all about it in the paper.”
Raine put her hand on Callie’s shoulder. “Hugh and I were so happy that you’d found someone. And now he’s gone.” If Callie weren’t
so annoyed, she was sure she would have found this statement moving, along with the tears that were beading on Raine’s long-lashed blue eyes.
“We were so happy that you were moving on,” Raine said, looking down and dabbing at her eyes with a Kleenex she apparently kept stuffed in the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “You know, like Hugh and I have moved on.” The odd thing was that Raine seemed totally sincere, not intentionally nasty or mean-spirited.
Raine was sobbing in earnest now. “You seem like such a wonderful mother and you have so much style. Look at you!” Raine blew her nose and gestured at Callie’s outfit which consisted of her Callie’s Kitchen t-shirt and slim-fitting capris. Maybe if you were used to dressing in team apparel, this was the height of fashion.
“In fact, your daughter is such a dear and you two are so close, that you have inspired me! Hugh probably didn’t tell you, well, why would he?” Raine’s bell-like laughter swept through the room. “We’re trying for a baby ourselves.”
Callie gasped and tried to hide it with a cough. If only life had a “delete” button. She would have just deleted the last 10 minutes and then she would never have to be stuck replaying this crazy conversation in her head ever again. Callie tried to formulate a response, but found that for once, she was speechless.
A baby? That made her think about things she usually tried very hard not to think about. Had Raine bought Hugh matching green and gold boxer shorts to match her Packers sweatshirt? She remembered hearing that men’s fertility increased if they wore boxer shorts. Don’t go there, she told herself.
Luckily, Raine appeared to have misconstrued her distressed look. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” said Raine. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have brought up the topic of Drew. Really, I just wanted to offer my sympathies.”
