Drew Ingleby—accompanied by his aunt and uncle—came back from Alaska that Monday. Tom and I told him all that had happened. He cried.
Bob Rushwood, as it turned out, did not have a chance to talk to Drew. An infection set into his chest after his surgery. Ironically, no amount of any antibiotic was able to save him. He died before Holly’s service.
We told George Ingleby the truth, right before he went down to meet Drew’s plane. He said he didn’t care; he was just happy he had Drew. Tom was right: George was and is Drew’s father, even if he hadn’t contributed the sperm for his creation. That was why he and Lena had crashed Drew’s party; George loved Drew. George promised us—swore to us—that once Holly’s sister and her husband packed up Holly’s rental, Drew would have his own apartment in the Ingleby mansion. He would even have his own entrance. Edith was delighted to have her miracle back. And, George told us, Lena had promised to be kind. Her earlier unpleasantness was only owing to her devotion to George.
Neil Unger was charged in a civil suit, now pending. It doesn’t look good for him.
Nor do things portend any better for Warren Broome. Audrey has brought her complaint to his supervisory board. Patsie heard the story first, and filed for divorce.
Yurbin had his one-man show—a flop. The most damning review came from the Denver Post: Yurbin has clearly shown how much he is trying to copy the ideas made popular by his most famous student, Holly Ingleby. Yet he lacks both the vision and the ability to replicate Ingleby’s stunning success. Marla, giggling wildly, gave me the results of her gossip-gathering mission after the show closed, with no pieces sold. Yurbin had tried to get his old job back with the Denver Art Academy. They didn’t want him. Nor did the University of Denver, the University of Colorado, or any other local college or high school, private or public. The last Marla heard, Yurbin had been hired as a delivery boy for the Cathedral Grocery, where Chris is now the manager.
Julian began going out with Ophelia. They’re both rich in love, in Shakespeare, and in fact. What more could you ask for? Julian bought his own small place in Aspen Meadow, and has promised to help me with the catering business “for as long as you want me, boss.”
“That would be for the foreseeable future,” I told him, once I was out of the hospital and learning to use crutches.
We got through the summer, with its many weddings, and the busy season, Halloween to Christmas. I grew big. In my eighth month, the doctor said Julian would have to take over the catering business. I acquiesced.
On the cold, snowy morning of March 22, I was having a small decaf espresso with cream and contemplating what I would fix for breakfast for Arch, who was on spring break. Without warning, I doubled over. Tom scooped me up before I hit the floor.
“Miss G.?” His handsome face was creased with worry. “What is it?”
“Tom.” I gasped, as another cramp hit. “I’m in labor.”
Tom, so full of anxiety and questions about how I was feeling that I had to remind this normally calm, unwavering cop to keep his eyes on the road, drove me down to Southwest Hospital. The labor came so fast that I was spared the hour-after-hour contractions of Arch’s birth, almost eighteen years before.
Arch was too nervous to pilot his own car. So he called Julian to ask if he, Julian, could pick him up in the Rover. Julian said he could, but Ophelia wanted to come, too. Julian had also promised that when the baby-arriving drama began, he would swing by Marla’s house to pick her up. Gus and Drew had said they wanted to come to the hospital, too. So Julian, Ophelia, Marla, Gus, Drew, and Arch all squeezed into my van, which Julian had commandeered. Either Marla or Arch called Tom every ten minutes to make sure I was okay. Tom finally said he couldn’t concentrate on his driving if they didn’t stop phoning. His reply was cut off when we passed through the Hogback and lost the signal.
Farther down the interstate, two prowlers met us. One police car pulled in front of us, the other fell in behind the van. They put on their lights. Cell service was restored, and we received another frantic call from Arch.
“What is happening?” he cried.
“We have an escort,” said Tom. “Now please tell Julian to pay attention to his driving.”
Finally, finally, we arrived in the hospital parking lot.
“Oh, God,” Marla said, as she picked her way through the slush. “A convoy of cops and my best friend having a baby. I’m so nervous, I think I’m going to pass out.”
“Don’t do that,” Julian warned, taking her by the elbow. “The doctors here can deal with only one crisis at a time.”
“I’m quite confident they can deal with simultaneous crises,” Marla assured him.
Tom, swathed in hospital garb, was allowed in the delivery room. Above the mask, the smile in his eyes was reassuring, even as the waves of pain rolled over me. He said, “Arch, Julian, Ophelia, Gus, Drew, and Marla are in the waiting room. Father Pete just arrived. All of them are more anxious than I am, so . . .”
“Yes, yes.” I choked, as a contraction engulfed me. “I’m trying.”
Grace Holly Schulz emerged with a throaty cry less than an hour later.
“Here’s your daughter,” said Dr. Marbury, my obstetrician, proudly placing long, pink, bawling Grace on my abdomen.
Tears slid down my face. There was no snow, no slush, no ice, no pain. There was only this lovely, new creature. Our creature. Our baby.
I had tried to help a lot of people along the way to this moment—Holly’s son, Drew, among them—and in that helping, I had found a sense of belonging, of caring, of rebuilding my inner self after it was wrecked by the Jerk. I was, and am, thankful for that.
And now I had what I had always wanted—a loving husband, darling children, a tight community: the whole enchilada.
Once Grace was wrapped in a blanket and nestled in my arms in the hospital room, Arch, Julian, Ophelia, Marla, Gus, Drew, and Father Pete were all allowed in. They beamed.
“We’re all here for you, baby,” I murmured to my newborn.
She heard. She understood. That was the only way I could explain why Grace, with her tiny nest of blond curls, craned her little head around . . . to see her family.
Acknowledgments
The author gratefully acknowledges the assistance of the following people: Jim Davidson; Jeff, Rosa, Ryan, Nick, and Josh Davidson; J. Z. Davidson; Joey Davidson; Sandra Dijkstra, Elise Capron, Andrea Cavallaro, Thao Le, Elisabeth James, and the rest of the amazing team at the Sandra Dijkstra Literary Agency; Brian Murray, Michael Morrison, Carolyn Marino, Amanda Bergeron, Megan Swartz, Tavia Kowalchuk, Joseph Papa, and the entire brilliant team at Morrow; Richard Staller, D.O., for offering the idea for this book; Kathy Saideman, for her patient and helpful readings of the manuscript; Carol Alexander, for testing the recipes and making many valuable suggestions; Jasmine Cresswell and the rest of our brainstorming group: Connie Laux, Karen Young Stone, and Emilie Richards McGee; Linda and David Ranz, M.D.; Dan Sheehy, Esq., expert in wills and trusts; Shirley Carnahan, Ph.D.; Carole Kornreich, M.D., for numerous clarifications; J.R. and John Suess; Julie Kaewert; Triena Harper; the Reverend Andi Suess Taylor and St. Boniface Episcopal Church in Sarasota, Florida, and the Reverend Nina Churchman and St. Laurence Episcopal Church in Conifer, Colorado; my far-flung family: Adam Mott, Janie Mott Fritz, Lucy Mott Faison, Sally Mott Freeman, and William C. Mott, Jr., plus all their wonderful spouses and dear children, with special acknowledgment of the passing of our beloved Tom Fritz; John William Schenk, who taught me how to cater; Marty O’Leary and the staff at Sur La Table in Sarasota, Florida, for numerous helpful suggestions; and as always, Sergeant Richard Millsapps, now retired from the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department, Golden, Colorado.
RECIPES FROM
THE WHOLE ENCHILADA
Enchiladas Suizas
Not-So-Skinny Spinach Dip
Julian’s Fudge with Sun-Dried Cherries and Toasted Pecans
Crunchy Cinnamon Toast
Chocolate Snowcap Cookies
Dad’s Bread
Bread Dough Enhancer
Love-Me-Tenderloin Grilled Steaks
Goldy’s Chef Salad
Sugar-Free Vanilla Gelato
Spicy Brownies
Enchiladas Suizas
12 corn tortillas
1⁄3 cup olive oil
Filling:
2 cups shredded rotisserie chicken, dark and light meat, skin and bones removed
2¼ cups crema (homemade sour cream, also known as crème fraîche, recipe follows) or commercial sour cream
2 cups grated mild or medium cheddar cheese
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Sauce:
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cups chopped onions
2 tablespoons minced garlic
14½ ounces diced Italian-style (with garlic, basil, and oregano) tomatoes (Check contents of can. You may need more than one can.)
9 ounces (contents of two 4½-ounce cans) chopped fire-roasted mild chiles
1 teaspoon dried oregano
Additional crema or sour cream for topping
Crema (optional):
2 cups heavy whipping cream
¼ cup active-culture buttermilk
If you are making the optional crema, pour the cream into a glass container and stir in the buttermilk. Cover the container tightly with plastic wrap and leave at room temperature until thick (usually 24 to 48 hours). Covered crema can be kept in the refrigerator for a week.
When you are ready to make the enchiladas, preheat the oven to 350˚F. Have ready a large plate and 13 absorbent paper towels. Fold the paper towels into quarters.
Overlap the tortillas in two large (9-by-13-inch or larger) pans so that as much of the surfaces of the tortillas is showing as possible. Drizzle the olive oil evenly over the tortillas in both pans. (You may have to use your hands or a pastry brush to spread oil evenly over the tortillas.) Place the pans in the oven and allow the tortillas to soften for about 5 minutes. Remove the pans from the oven and check that the tortillas are softened by using tongs to lift up one of them. (You want them soft and pliable. If they are not yet soft, put the pans back in the oven for a couple of minutes. You do not want to cook the tortillas through, which will harden them.) When the tortillas are just cool enough to touch, place one of the folded towels on a plate. Using tongs, place one tortilla on the folded towel. Place another folded towel on top of the tortilla and press lightly to absorb excess oil. Continue with the remaining tortillas. Set aside.
Using a large bowl, make the filling by mixing the chicken, crema or sour cream, cheese, and salt until blended. Set aside.
For the sauce, heat the oil in a large skillet over low heat. Add the onions and cook for a minute, stirring. Add the garlic and stir. Continue to cook and stir over low heat until the onion is translucent (about 10 minutes). Add the tomatoes, chiles, and oregano. Simmer this mixture over low heat for 5 to 8 minutes. Remove from the heat, allow to cool slightly, and spoon into a 4-cup glass measuring cup. You should have 3 cups of sauce. If you do not have 3 full cups, add the extra tomato sauce to make 3 cups.
Butter a 9-by-13-inch glass pan.
To fill the enchiladas, place each tortilla on a flat surface and scoop a ¼ cup of filling into the center. Using your fingers or a spoon, shape the filling into a cylinder in the center of the tortilla. Roll up the tortilla and place it, seam side down, in the prepared pan. Continue until all the tortillas are rolled up.
Spoon the sauce over the tortillas and place the pan in the oven to bake until the center of the enchiladas is steaming hot, about 20 to 25 minutes. Serve with sour cream on the side, if desired.
Makes 12 enchiladas
Not-So-Skinny Spinach Dip
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 10-ounce package frozen chopped spinach, thawed and drained
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
10 ounces Alfredo sauce (contents of one refrigerated package)
1⁄3 cup finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
1 cup grated fontina cheese
Freshly ground black pepper
In a medium-size sauté pan, melt the butter over low heat. Add the garlic; cook and stir until it is translucent. Add the spinach and cream cheese, stirring until very well combined. Add the Alfredo sauce and cheeses. Stir until the cheeses have melted. Continue stirring until hot.
Taste and season carefully with the pepper. Serve immediately with chips or crackers.
Julian’s Fudge with Sun-Dried Cherries and Toasted Pecans
1 cup pecan halves
3 cups granulated sugar
¾ cup (1½ sticks) unsalted butter
2⁄3 cup evaporated milk
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
12 ounces best-quality bittersweet chocolate, chopped
7 ounces (contents of 1 jar) marshmallow crème
1 cup (about 6 ounces) sun-dried cherries
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
In a wide skillet, toast the pecans, stirring constantly, over low heat until they just begin to turn color and emit a nutty smell. Turn out onto paper towels and allow to cool. Chop and set aside.
Butter a 9-inch-square pan. Place the sugar, butter, salt, and milk in a heavy-duty saucepan. Stir constantly over medium heat until the sugar is dissolved. Continue to stir vigorously until the mixture comes to a rolling boil and measures 234˚F on a candy thermometer. Remove from the heat and stir in the chopped chocolate and crème, stirring until the chocolate is melted and both are incorporated. Stir in the vanilla, cherries, and pecans.
Pour into the prepared pan and cover with plastic wrap. Allow to cool completely. When completely cooled, cut the fudge with a warm knife.
Makes 32 small or 16 large squares
Crunchy Cinnamon Toast
1 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter (you may not need all of this)
8 thick slices best-quality bread, preferably brioche
Applesauce
Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Butter 1 or 2 large cookie sheets, or lay silicone mats on them.
Mix the cinnamon into the sugar and set aside. Melt the butter.
Lay the bread slices on the cookie sheets so that they are not touching. Place them in the oven and allow the bread to toast for about 5 minutes. Remove the sheets from the oven, but do not turn the oven off.
Flip the bread slices so that the untoasted side is facing up. Using a pastry brush, brush each slice of bread generously with butter. Carefully sprinkle each piece of bread generously with the cinnamon sugar. You want a thick layer of cinnamon sugar on each slice.
Return the sheets to the oven and watch carefully. In about 10 to 20 minutes, the cinnamon sugar layer will begin to bubble. Remove the sheets from the oven.
Serve immediately with applesauce on the side.
8 servings
Chocolate Snowcap Cookies
4 ounces extra-bittersweet or bittersweet chocolate, broken into pieces (recommended brand: Lindt; be sure you are using a full 4 ounces, as package sizes differ)
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
4 large eggs
2 cups dark brown sugar, firmly packed
2 cups all-purpose flour
1⁄3 cup cocoa (recommended brand: Hershey’s Special Dark)
½ teaspoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon chocolate extract (available at Sur La Table)
1 cup powdered sugar (for rolling)
Place the chocolate pieces and butter in the top of a double boiler and melt over simmering water. When the mixture is just melted, set aside to cool.
In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the eggs until well combined and light yellow in color. Add the brown sugar and beat until very well combined.
Sift together the flour, cocoa
, salt, baking powder, and baking soda.
When the chocolate mixture is no more than lukewarm, stir it into the egg mixture. Using a wooden spoon, gently stir in the extracts and the dry ingredients.
Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap and chill overnight. (The batter must be very well chilled.)
When you are ready to bake the cookies, preheat the oven to 350˚F. Put silicone mats on two cookie sheets.
Place the powdered sugar in a large bowl. Remove the bowl of batter from the refrigerator. Using a 1-tablespoon scoop, measure out a dozen scoops of dough (level the scoops with a knife). Put the plastic wrap back over the bowl of batter and return to the refrigerator, to keep the rest of the batter well chilled. (As the batter warms up, it becomes too sticky to work with.)
Roll the first dozen scoops into balls, then drop them one at a time into the bowl of sugar, rolling them around until they are white. Place the cookies in even rows on the first cookie sheet, 2 inches apart. Bake for about 8 to 10 minutes, or until the “cracks” in the dough no longer appear wet. Watch carefully, as you do not want the cookies to overbake and dry out.
The Whole Enchilada Page 35
