“I’m sure Jazzi will help you if she can.”
“I know she will. She’s happy with a peanut butter sandwich.”
“What did your mother send home with you?”
“Chicken pot pie. She made it to prove hers was better than Aunt Iris’s.”
Jonas was silent at that assertion until he said, “One of these days, I’ll look forward to you filling me in about your relationship with your mom and your aunt Iris.”
“One of these days,” Daisy promised, thinking Jonas was talking as if they’d see each other for a while. Would they? Or would he back out again? Was that always going to be her fear?
“Are you still planning to go to the tea garden tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes. I want to work. But I know I shouldn’t drive. I’m going to call Aunt Iris and see if she’ll pick me up. I’m sure Tessa will bring me home at lunchtime if I feel like I can’t put in a full day.”
“If you need a chauffeur, I’ll be available,” Jonas said. “Why don’t I come over and take measurements for the shelves? Then if you feel you want to leave, you can.”
“I don’t want to put you out any more than I already have.”
“Daisy, give up the fight and let me help you, okay?”
“And why do you want to help me?”
There was a beat of silence before he confessed, “Because I feel something with you I haven’t felt before. And I do care.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After they said their good-byes, Daisy lay back on the sofa and closed her eyes. In no time at all she was asleep. But her dreams were a mixture of Jonas’s face along with Tessa’s and Reese’s.
Chapter Twelve
The following morning Daisy returned to the tea garden, her arm still in a sling. She didn’t want to overdo and then have to put the sling back on. So she mostly worked on counter duty, being friendly, going table to table and serving tea refills. She realized how she took both arms for granted. Wasn’t that the way it went? You weren’t really grateful for something until you didn’t have it anymore.
That was too philosophical for this morning. But she knew why she was thinking so hard. She was remembering her conversation with Jonas. She was also looking forward to seeing him again later. That made her feel like a foolish schoolgirl. Yet it was a nice feeling to have after all these years. Some nights she missed Ryan so much, she didn’t know if she could ever love another man again. Yet when she was with Jonas, her years with Ryan seemed to fade into the background. Ryan didn’t. But their life together did.
Daisy was in the kitchen with Tessa and Eva when Tessa’s phone played an airy, meditative melody from her pocket. She pulled it out and checked the screen. “It’s a lawyer’s office,” she murmured. “A lawyer in Lancaster.”
“Go ahead and take it,” Daisy suggested.
Tessa did and identified herself, but then she said, “I don’t understand.”
Daisy unabashedly listened to Tessa’s side of the conversation.
“You want me to come to your office in Lancaster tomorrow? I see. Hold on a minute. I’ll check to see if I can get someone to cover for me at work. I’m at work now.”
She looked at Daisy. “It’s Reese’s lawyer. He wants me to come to his office tomorrow afternoon at two. Will you and Iris be able to serve tea without me?”
“Foster will be here in the afternoon, and so will Cora Sue. I can ask Karina to come in and handle the counter and whatever else has to be done. If it gets beyond all of us, Eva will lend a hand too. We’ll manage.”
Tessa said into the phone, “All right, Mr. Selinski. Can you text me your address? Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow at two.”
Almost as soon as Tessa ended the call, a beep sounded from her phone that she’d received a text message.
“Did he have anything else to say?” Daisy asked.
“It has to do with Reese’s will. He said I’d be receiving an official letter in the mail, but considering the circumstances, he’d like to see me tomorrow.”
“I’ll bet you’re in the will,” Daisy said.
“Why would I be in Reese’s will?” Tessa sounded astounded. “We didn’t know each other that long.”
“If you’re in his will, then he cared about you,” Daisy assured her friend, knowing Tessa had been questioning that fact. Then she added, “But on the other hand, if you are in the will in any substantial way, Detective Rappaport will be focusing again on you.”
“It just keeps getting worse and worse, doesn’t it?” Tessa asked rhetorically.
An hour later, Daisy was refilling a cup of a customer’s favorite tea when Rachel blew in the door with a gust of biting wind.
Daisy was glad to see her friend. They hadn’t been in touch for a few days. “Earl Grey?” she asked as she went to meet her.
Rachel nodded. “Ya.”
“Why don’t you take a seat in the spillover room and we can talk for a few minutes.”
“Are you certain sure you have time?” Rachel asked.
“I’m positive. How about a slice of apple bread to go with that?”
“Breakfast was a while back. Danki,” Rachel said with a shy smile.
“Wilkumm.” When she was with Rachel, it was easy to slip into the Pennsylvania Dutch she’d used with her friend since she was a child.
Daisy motioned her again to the yellow room. “Take off your cape and warm up. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Cora Sue was helping Daisy today when she tried to do something she shouldn’t. “I’ll carry the bread for you,” she said now. “You prepare the cup of tea. We’re a team today, remember?”
Cora Sue’s bottle-red hair was pulled high on her head in a topknot. She was as bubbly today as ever.
Without giving Cora Sue an argument, Daisy nodded. “Thank you.”
Seated, after she carried the tea to the table, Daisy asked after Rachel’s family.
“We’re all gut,” her friend said with a smile. She patted Daisy’s hand. “But I came to see how you are. I heard what happened to you. I was worried and I spoke with Foster yesterday. He said the two of you went on a little outing.”
“He was kind enough to take me on an errand,” Daisy explained. “I was going stir-crazy sitting at home. I’m just not the type of patient who wants to sit and watch TV all day.”
Rachel looked over her shoulder into the main serving room. “I came to ask about Tessa, too. How is she holding up? I have noticed she doesn’t come out of the kitchen unless she has to.”
“She’s afraid everyone will ask her questions. I know the feeling. She’s also worried that the police are going to charge her with Reese’s murder.”
Rachel looked aghast. “They would not.”
“I don’t know about that,” Daisy said. “After finding what they think is the murder weapon in Tessa’s apartment, anything can happen.”
“The two of you need to come to the quilting circle.”
“Are you sure about that?” Daisy asked. “Having us there could cause talk.”
“The women who quilt in my circle won’t pass judgment. We meet twice a week. You could come on your lunch break.”
“Both of us couldn’t come at the same time because we’d leave Aunt Iris in the lurch. But we could alternate.”
“However is best for you. What would you like to quilt?”
“Actually, I have been thinking about that. I’m going to look in my storage space for old outfits of Vi’s and Jazzi’s. I might even have a shirt of Ryan’s. If I can use that material in a quilt, it will hold good memories.”
“That is a gut idea. Memory quilts can be passed down for generations. We’ll teach you how to make it right.”
Daisy laughed. “Maybe I should practice on something else first.”
“Oh, we can start you on piecing squares until you learn to even your stitches. We can also show you how to move around colors so they suit you.”
“I have a feeling until
I learn, and until I put the quilt together, this will be a year-long project.”
“That is quite possible,” Rachel agreed.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Rachel admitted. “Especially if you want the quilt to last.”
“Actually, I’d like to make one for both Violet and Jazzi.”
“And one for yourself?” Rachel asked.
“We’ll see how long the first one takes.”
Rachel looked troubled for a moment.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have a question to ask you, but I do not want you to be upset.”
“I won’t get upset with you. You can ask me anything.”
“You still miss Ryan, don’t you?”
Rachel had met her husband when they’d come on visits to Willow Creek to see Daisy’s parents and her aunt. “You must have read my mind. I was just thinking about Ryan this morning, and I do miss him. But the memories now are becoming sweeter rather than hurtful. After he died, I couldn’t take a breath without hurting so much. I didn’t think the pain would ever go away. I hid as much as I could from the girls. But the nights—the nights were awful.”
“But your girls missed him too?”
“Yes, they did. Violet talked about how much she missed him; Jazzi not so much. And I realize now I should have prompted Jazzi more. I should have asked more questions about her feelings. Oh, we talked for months about selling our house in Florida and moving here. We spent many late nights going over the idea of Aunt Iris and I starting the tea garden. But their feelings about their dad—I let them slide into the shadows. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You should know by now,” Rachel said, “that should and shouldn’t after the fact do no good when you’re a mom. You just start from where you left off, and you try to do better.”
Daisy squeezed her friend’s hand. “You’re always so wise.”
“Maybe that comes from having family around me so much of the time. We all go through each other’s lives moment by moment and learn.”
“You’re very fortunate to have that kind of support system.”
“Not fortunate, Daisy, but blessed. We know it. You are blessed too. I know you and your mom and even your sister don’t always see eye to eye, but they come through when you need them. Your dad is a great man.”
“Yes, he is, and he always takes my side or figures out how to do it, and so does Aunt Iris. She’s one of the reasons I recovered from Ryan’s death as well as I have. She’s helped the girls too.”
“Do you think you’re ready now?”
“Ready?”
“To keep company with a man again.”
Daisy thought about Jonas coming over later to measure the storage closet for shelves. She felt her cheeks blush a little as she answered Rachel’s question with, “We’ll see.”
* * *
Around noon Daisy realized she was slowing down. Serving tea one-handed seemed to be a good idea, but after a few hours of that, plus trying to do everything else one-handed, she felt as if her energy had drained. She was at the counter trying to layer chocolate chip cookies into a box with one gloved hand while trying not to hit her other elbow against the case.
Aunt Iris came up to her. “I’ll do that. Why don’t you take your lunch break? Or better yet, go home for the afternoon. Do you have a headache?”
“You sound like Jazzi now.”
“Well, do you?”
“Just a small one,” she admitted, though she really didn’t want to. Her aunt was about to huff and puff more and tell her she should take care of herself when Daisy was rescued from a lecture by Jonas coming in the front door.
He came straight to the counter and looked from Daisy to Iris. “Have I interrupted something?”
Iris gave Daisy a glare. “My niece is not behaving or taking care of herself.”
To Daisy’s embarrassment, Jonas studied her. “You do look a little pale.”
She scowled at him with her best fierce-mom scowl. “Another good-for-me voice heard from.”
Jonas just arched his brows and she felt dismayed. She really didn’t want to battle with everyone. Giving in to her aunt Iris and letting her fill the cookie box, Daisy said, “I think I’m well enough to show you what we want for the shelves in the closet.”
Iris just shook her head. “She needs her lunch break,” Iris whispered in an aside to Jonas before he started for the kitchen.
Daisy caught the thumbs-up he gave Iris before he followed her. “You and Aunt Iris aren’t colluding, are you?”
“No collusion. A person has to eat.”
“I can have a cup of soup here, and so can you.”
“Yes, or I could follow your aunt Iris’s wishes and whisk you away to Sarah Jane’s for lunch. You’d get out of here for a while and soothe her concern. Win-win, wouldn’t it be?”
“You make it sound so reasonable,” Daisy said with a sigh.
Jonas laughed. “That’s my middle name—Reasonable. Show me what you need here.”
In a corner of the kitchen Daisy pointed to the white cupboards above the sink and the counters. “All of our teas are stored up there in those cupboards.” She pointed to cupboards along the other wall. “In those we keep our dishes and glasses.”
“Okay,” Jonas said with a nod.
She pointed to the cupboards under the sink and the counter. “Our cooking pans, casseroles, and pots are all down there.”
“Which leaves?” Jonas asked.
“That big closet over there across from our walk-in is our pantry. It holds our supplies of flour, sugar, cinnamon, dried fruit—everything we use to cook and bake. We knew exactly how we’d use the pantry when we renovated so the shelves were made to order then.” She pointed to the closet nearest the door. “That’s our storage closet.” She opened it with a flourish. “Linens are stored on the shelves straight ahead.” Then she gestured to an alcove on the left and one on the right. “That’s just empty space. I thought if you could build shelves for these two spaces, I can line up my special teacups here, like the ones I received for my birthday. Then if I want to use one for someone special, I can just pull it right out.”
“How would your servers know they’re special?”
“My servers can tell bone china from porcelain, and they know the cups ringed with silver or gold need extra care.”
“What is the difference between bone china and porcelain?”
“Porcelain is made from a type of clay called kaolin. When it’s fired, the temperatures can reach twelve hundred degrees Celsius. The final result is fragile and translucent in a dinner plate. Bone china is similar to porcelain but was actually created in Europe. It’s also translucent but it’s fired at a lower temperature. It’s usually a creamy off-white color.”
“You have some other types of plates that don’t look so . . . delicate.”
“Those are stoneware. It’s strong and heavier than porcelain, not as expensive either. When I serve a table family-style, maybe with a dozen scones, I might use a plate like that one.” She pointed to the counter where Eva was preparing a plate to do just that. It was brown with a high glaze.
“And what about your teapots?” Jonas asked, obviously interested.
“Most of those are bone china, many made in England, like the one you gave me. Most of my teapots are James Sadler. They’re some of my favorites.”
“You have a lot invested in the tea garden, don’t you?”
“Iris and I both do. But we thought it was worth it, and so far, we’re succeeding.”
“You’re trying to help clear Tessa so it doesn’t hurt business,” he said in a low voice.
In just as low a voice, Daisy responded, “I want to clear Tessa to clear Tessa. She’s my best friend, Jonas.”
He must have seen the determination in her eyes. Or else she was looking a bit peaked with her arm in a sling and the headache beating at her temples because he said, “Will you come with me to Sarah Jane’s for
lunch?”
“I will if you’ll let me make a stop first.”
“A stop where?” he asked suspiciously.
“I want to see if the man with the hoodie stopped at any other businesses before or after he argued with Reese. I think we should start with the convenience store at the edge of town because they would probably have video too.”
“Start?”
“I have Sarah Jane’s on my list. She doesn’t have video but she does have hostesses and servers at the diner who might remember.”
“So I’m playing into your plans.”
“No, you’ll be taking me to lunch and helping me solve a murder.”
After a long look in which Jonas didn’t appear happy with that scenario, he took a tape measure from his pocket and started measuring.
A half hour later Daisy could tell by the expression on Jonas’s face that he didn’t approve of her mission. They’d stopped at the convenience store but it had been a dead end. The manager told them that Detective Rappaport had already checked their video from the Wednesday in question. So now they were going to Sarah Jane’s for lunch and a little questioning.
After they got out of the car and strolled toward the diner with its huge hex sign of birds on the front wall and a hex sign with hearts on the other side of the door, Jonas looked as if he wanted to say something but he didn’t. Daisy was sure whatever was on his mind would come out at lunch. One of the main things she liked about Jonas was his forthrightness.
Sarah Jane, who was hostessing as usual, her strawberry-blond curls falling over her forehead and around her ears to her jaw, smiled at them. Although she was a bit overweight, she had the energy of a youngster. She oversaw every dish on the menu and cooked some of them herself. She liked to hostess the lunch and dinner crowd so that she knew her customers. She often ran coupons for everyone over sixty, which helped some of the elderly population of Willow Creek buy a good hot meal. The town needed a service such as Meals-on-Wheels but they hadn’t developed one yet. Daisy considered bringing it up at their next Chamber of Commerce meeting.
Sarah Jane’s blue gingham apron and her fuchsia and green sneakers were always a homey welcoming sight. She studied Daisy and Jonas and then said, “It’s nice to see you two here together.”
Murder with Cinnamon Scones Page 15
