The Red Hat Society's Domestic Goddess

by Regina Hale Sutherland

  “You’re not armed,” he observed, as he glanced over his shoulder from where he stood at her stove.

  “Armed?” She shook her head. “That’s Kim who carries Harry, not me.”

  “I’ve been warned that you wield a mean feather duster,” he said.

  She flushed, since she had considered it. “Steven told you. He must have given you the key, too?”

  “He would have, but Kim had already told me where you keep it.”

  Kim, the traitor, had struck again.

  Millie glanced toward the dining area, where her good china was set on the white linen tablecloth and candles burned in polished brass holders.

  “So you didn’t break in to rob me,” she surmised.

  He chuckled. “I don’t want to take anything away from you. I want to give you something.”

  “What?” she asked, heart pounding as her nerves jumbled around in her stomach.

  “For starters,” he said, deep voice full of mystery, “I want to give you your favorite meal.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, curious if he knew.

  “For an appetizer, Jalapeño-Stuffed Bacon-Wrapped Shrimp. For an entrée, Chicken Thighs with Wine, and for dessert Brown Bag Apple Pie.”

  “Hmm,” she mused, impressed despite how obvious she’d made it for him, “you figured that out from class, huh?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I figured that out.” His tone suggested he’d figured out some other things as well. “Go, sit down. I’ll serve you.”

  And he did.

  In addition to her favorite recipes, he’d made rolls, wonderful crunchy-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside whole wheat rolls, and a salad with fresh strawberries and walnuts.

  “This is wonderful,” she told him. “You pass.”

  “What?”

  “The class. You get an A.”

  “I didn’t do this for Millie, the teacher,” he said. “I did this for Millie, the woman.”

  Her breath caught in her lungs. “Why?”

  “Because I’m falling for her.” A ragged breath shuddered out of him on a sigh before he added, “Hard.”

  “Charles…”

  He reached across the tablecloth, taking her hand in his. “I should have told you sooner.”

  “When?”

  “When should I have told you or when did I start falling?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his bright blue eyes. “I think I knew when you pulled out of the garage and nearly ran Buddy over.”

  “Where is Buddy?” she asked, suppressing a smile at the frustration that drew a frown on his handsome face.

  “You’re asking about Buddy now?” he asked, knitting his brows with mock irritation.

  “I wouldn’t want him to be alone,” she teased.

  “Don’t worry. Vic and Mitch took him roller blading in the park.”

  “How do they fit the Rollerblades on his paws?”

  “Millie!” he said, exasperated. “You’re not going to make this easy for me.”

  She shook her head, not caring that her curls tumbled around her face. “Fraid not.”

  He leaned farther over the table and pressed his mouth against hers. When he drew away, her breath shuddered out of her. “Keep talking and I’11 have to keep doing that,” he threatened, “so you’ll stop.”

  “I don’t want to stop—” She couldn’t finish because his lips stilled hers.

  He pulled back, pressing a finger against her lips instead. “You’re too distracting.” He shook his head. “What was I saying?”

  “That you’ve fallen for me,” she reminded him, with a wistful sigh. “Hard.”

  “And I should have told you sooner.”

  She nodded. “That would have been nice. But then I should have told you, too.”

  “Told me what?” he asked, his blue eyes bright and hopeful.

  She gathered her courage in a fortifying breath, then said, “That I’m falling for you, too.”

  “Ah, Millie,” he said, threading his fingers through her curls as he leaned his forehead against hers. “You make me feel things I don’t think I’ve ever felt…”

  She couldn’t say the same. She’d been in love before; she knew its giddy rush. But this was different; she was a woman falling in love, not a girl. She felt deeper and more. “Charles…”’

  “I know you loved your husband a lot, that you probably still miss him, and I’m not trying to take his place. I just want to share your life.”

  And here was where they ran into problems. “You want to share mine or have me share yours?” she asked. “I loved being married to Bruce, but I don’t want to repeat that relationship. It was work. Mine. I want to retire that tiara,” she said, gesturing to where her red hat, adorned with the glittery piece of jewelry in question, sat on the counter.

  “I don’t want you to wait on me,” he vehemently insisted, nearly sounding insulted.

  “But what about on the days that you work?”

  “We’ll go out to dinner those nights.”

  “And on the days when I work?”

  “You work? Where?” he asked, his deep voice vibrating with excitement. “At the television station?”

  She smiled. “I talked to them today.” They’d given her a copy of what they’d shown on the noon news that day. “I can tape segments far ahead of time. I won’t be working every day. There. Or teaching the classes. Kim and Theresa and I are going to work out a schedule so that we all get some time off.”

  “So you can travel?”

  She nodded, wondering how he felt about that.

  She didn’t have to wonder for very long, as he grinned and said, “Good.”

  “Good? You didn’t look too happy when I told the TV producer about my travel plans,” she said, calling him on his less-than-enthusiastic reaction.

  He nodded. “I reacted without thinking. It took me a little while to remind myself that we’re both rational adults. We might have other plans, but we understand compromise. You probably weren’t thrilled I went back to work.”

  She nearly groaned her confession, embarrassed about it. “No…”

  He sighed. “I should have talked to you about it.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Until now neither of us has been willing to admit our feelings.”

  “Maybe we’re not as rational as I thought,” he acknowledged with a wry chuckle. “But still, I should have told you about it and explained that I’m not going to work that much. I’ll still have time to travel with you. If you want me…”

  She stood up and walked over to the counter where she’d set the manila folder with her purse.

  “Millie?” he used her name as a question, his voice deep with concern that maybe she didn’t want him.

  But Millie turned back to the table. Instead of taking her seat, she settled on his lap and handed the tickets to him. “I want you,” she told him.

  He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before reaching for the tickets. Then he laughed.

  “What? Too presumptuous?” she asked.

  He wiggled his knees. “Sitting on my lap? I’m all for that.”

  “And the cruise?”

  He wriggled again on the chair, then reached into his back pocket where he pulled out tickets and handed them to Millie. Now she laughed. “You didn’t.”

  “Great minds think alike,” he said.

  “Think we can get time off work for two cruises?”

  “I think that, together, we can do whatever we want.” She nodded her agreement. “Yes, together, we can.” Charles stood up, then set her on her feet. “Time for dessert,” he said.

  “Yes,” Millie agreed. “But we can skip the pie.” And she pulled his head down for another kiss.

  Epilogue

  “Happy marriages begin when we marry the ones we love, and they blossom when we love the ones we marry.”

  —Tom Mullen

  Millie never quite retired her domestic goddess tiara; she was seen wearing it every day at noon in living rooms across America.
As Mitchell had predicted, she was picked up for syndication. But she and Charles still found time to travel around her schedule of filming cooking segments for the news and continuing to teach the Bachelor’s Survival Course.

  Of course she had the help of her best friends, Kim and Theresa, for the class and to plan the many weddings held on the deck of Hilltop’s community center.

  Kim was the first. Impatient to marry the man she loved, she wore her running shoes with her wedding dress, so she could run down the aisle to him.

  Millie hadn’t had the heart to tell her friend that although hers was the first wedding, Millie had been the first to marry. She and Charles had wed aboard their first cruise, using their second as their honeymoon. But then they said their vows again, in front of their family, friends, and the rest of the class, on Hilltop’s deck where Millie had first kissed Charles.

  Mitchell and Victoria also married at Hilltop, in the community center where they had first met and fallen in love. While both were busy, they vowed to always have time for each other. Two couples renewed their vows there, too; Steven and Audrey and Wally and Theresa.

  They all lived happily ever after and ate really well. Here are the recipes Millie taught in her Bachelor’s Survival course from The Red Hat Society Cookbook.

  Brown Bag Apple Pie

  A fun recipe—make sure everyone is watching when you pull the pie out of the oven. Veteran bakers say new grocery bags are thinner than old-style bags, so double-bag the pie.

  CRUST

  1½ cups flour

  ½ cup vegetable oil

  ¼ cup milk

  Dash of salt

  FILLING

  4 large Granny Smith apples

  ½ cup sugar

  3 tablespoons flour

  ½ teaspoon cinnamon

  TOPPING

  ½ cup sugar

  ½ cup flour

  ½ teaspoon cinnamon

  1 stick (8 tablespoons) butter or margarine

  Preheat the oven to 375°.

  For the crust, combine the flour, oil, milk, and salt in a bowl and mix until the dough holds together. Roll about -inch thick and fit in an 8- or 9-inch pie pan. Bake for 10 minutes.

  For the filling, peel, core, and slice the apples. In a large bowl toss the apples with the sugar, flour, and cinnamon. Arrange them in the pie crust.

  For the topping, combine the sugar, flour, and cinnamon. Cut in the butter with a pastry blender, two knives, or in a food processor. Spread over the apple mixture, pressing down slightly. Slide the pie into a brown paper grocery bag. Fold the top of the bag to close, and then fasten with paper clips. Bake for 1 hour.

  Makes 8 servings.

  Peggy Krickbaum

  Princess Knit Wit

  Flashy Sassies

  Motrose, Colorado

  Dreamsicle Cake

  “Refreshing and cool,” “Beautiful icing,” “Excellent,” “Super cake for a formal party,” chirped tasters of this pretty cake.

  1 (18-ounce) package orange cake mix

  1 (3-ounce) package orange gelatin

  1 (5-ounce) package vanilla instant pudding mix

  4 eggs

  ½ cup vegetable oil

  1½ cups milk

  FROSTING

  8 ounces sour cream

  1 cup sugar

  1 (5-ounce) package vanilla instant pudding mix

  1 (12-ounce) can crushed pineapple, drained

  1 (6-ounce) package frozen coconut

  1 (8-ounce) tub whipped topping

  Preheat the oven to 350°. Grease and flour three 9-inch cake pans. In a large bowl combine the cake mix, gelatin, pudding mix, eggs, oil, and milk with an electric mixer for 3 minutes. Pour the batter in the pans and bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the cake comes out clean. Cool in the pans for 10 minutes, and then invert onto cooling racks and cool completely before frosting. Cake must be refrigerated.

  For the frosting, in a large bowl mix the sour cream, sugar, and pudding mix together by hand. Stir in the pineapple and coconut. Fold in the whipped topping.

  Makes 12 servings.

  Debbie Anderson

  Lady Scarlett

  The Red Hot Flashes

  Advance, North Carolina

  Chocolateyingel Vie

  Meringue stands in for crust in this heavenly creation. The tester thought a decorative drizzle of chocolate syrup would be a nice finish.

  ½ cup sugar

  teaspoon cream of tartar

  2 egg whites

  ½ cup chopped walnuts

  ¾ cup chocolate chips

  3 tablespoons hot water

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  1 cup heavy whipping cream, whipped

  Preheat the oven to 275°. Stir together the sugar and cream of tartar. Beat the egg whites until stiff but not dry; add the sugar mixture gradually, beating until the meringue is smooth and glossy. Line a well-buttered, 9-inch pie plate with the meringue, keeping the bottom just ¼ inch thick. Sprinkle half the walnuts on top and bake for about 1 hour, or until delicately browned. Let cool.

  Melt the chocolate chips in the top of a double boiler set over simmering water; stir in the hot water and cook until thickened. Cool the mixture slightly, add the vanilla, and fold in the whipped cream. Pour into a pie shell. Sprinkle the remaining walnuts over the top. Chill 2 to 3 hours or until the filling is set.

  Makes 6 to 8 servings.

  Connie McGrath

  Queen of Cabernet

  Last of the Red Hat Mammas

  Riverside, California

  Chicken Thighs with Wine

  For the family that prefers dark meat. Testers commented that it tastes like pot roast and suggested adding mushrooms.

  flour

  8 chicken thighs

  5 tablespoons olive oil

  4 ounces butter

  1 large carrot, finely chopped

  ¾ onion, finely chopped

  1½ celery stalks, finely chopped

  3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

  1½ cups white wine

  ½ cup dry Marsala

  1 teaspoon dried rosemary

  4 basil leaves

  1 teaspoon hot pepper oil, optional

  ½ cup chicken stock

  salt and pepper

  cooked rice

  Coat the chicken in flour. Heat the oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Add the butter. Fry the flour-coated chicken in the hot oil. Remove the chicken from the skillet and add the carrot, onion, celery, and garlic. Reduce the heat to medium low and sauté for 15 minutes, or until soft. Return the chicken to the skillet and add the wine, Marsala, rosemary, basil, pepper oil if using, chicken stock, and salt and pepper to taste. Cook for 1 hour. Serve the chicken with the sauce over rice.

  Makes 4 servings.

  Judy Sausto

  Dame Judy

  Dames with a Par-Tea Hat-titude

  Egg Harbor Township, New Jersey

  Jalapeño-Stuffed Bacon-Wrapped Grilled Shrimp

  Leave the tail on when grilling shrimp—it gives guests a “handle” for eating them.

  fresh jalapeño peppers, cut into very thin slices

  4 to 5 pounds fresh cleaned shrimp, shelled, deveined, tails on

  uncooked bacon slices

  dash of celery salt

  dash of lemon pepper

  dash of garlic powder

  melted butter, if needed

  Place a toothpick-sized sliver of fresh raw jalapeño inside the slit made when shrimp are deveined. Press shut and wrap with a 1- to 2-inch piece of bacon. Run a barbecue skewer through one of the shrimp and then the other, so that each shrimp is well secured on the skewer. Pack several shrimp snugly onto the skewer—this helps hold them in place as they cook. Lay each skewer in a shallow dish, and sprinkle with the celery salt, lemon pepper, and garlic powder.

  Grill the shrimp on a medium-hot grill for about 10 to 15 minutes, or until the bacon is crisp. The lower tail sections may blacken; this isn’t important. I
f the shrimp appear to be drying out too much during the grilling, baste the cooking shrimp with the melted butter.

  Makes 8 to 10 servings.

  Glenda Bonham

  Countess of Confusion

  Ruby Roadrunners

  Fort Stockton, Texas

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  Acting Thier Age

  MUDDY CREEK, TEXAS, JANUARY 7

  Mia MacAfee hated mornings, but at five A.M. on Friday, hers were the first bootprints in the two inches of sugar-soft snow that had fallen during the night.

  It’s the best part of the day, Mia, she imagined Dan whispering in her ear. Why would you want to snooze it away?

  Mia glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see her husband behind her, a wink from his flashing green eyes, his lopsided smile and crooked front tooth. Instead, she saw only the curved pathway she had carved through the sleeping streets of Muddy Creek. In her mind, she whispered back to him, Okay, Dan MacAfee, you win. It is beautiful. Peaceful, too. And cozy, in a weird sort of way. But the quilt on our bed is also all those things and it’ s warm.

  They had these conversations from time to time, Mia and her dead husband, the same intimate banter they’d indulged in when he was alive. The talks kept Mia sane, though she suspected if she told anyone, they might disagree with that assessment of her mental state.

  Like every morning, Mia made her way to the Brewed Awakening, the coffee shop she’d opened four years ago with Leanne Chilton, her most unlikely friend, as Dan used to call her. A year ago September, only a couple of weeks before Dan died, she recalled sitting with him in the stands at a football game in Brister where their son coached. When the band marched onto the field, the brass section drowning out everything else, Dan laughed and said that if women were instruments, Leanne would be a trumpet. All brassy and full of sass. “Now you, on the other hand,” he started, then some kid had dumped a Coke in his lap, ending the conversation. It was one of many talks left incomplete between them, little discussions they probably would’ve continued at some point, had he lived.