by Mary McHugh
“When you get out of the hospital, we’ll talk,” I said. “Just get better.”
I left the room and Mike was there, waiting to take me back to the theater.
RECIPE FOR CROQUE MADAME
Serves 6
7 T. butter
3 T. flour
2 cups warm milk
12 oz. grated Gruyère cheese
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper
Sprinkling of nutmeg
12 slices French bread, toasted
6 T. Dijon mustard
12 slices baked ham
6 eggs
1. Heat broiler.
2. To make sauce, heat three tablespoons of butter in a saucepan, add the flour, and stir until creamy. Add milk and whisk until whole mixture is nice and smooth and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer about six minutes or a little more until thickened. Add a half cup of Gruyère and the half cup Parmesan and whisk until it’s all mixed in and is smooth. Season with the salt, pepper and nutmeg.
3. Spread mustard on six slices of the bread and put them on a baking sheet.
4. Put two slices of ham on each piece of bread and sprinkle each one with some of the Gruyère.
5. Broil for about ninety seconds until cheese just begins to melt.
6. Put the other six slices of French bread on top of them, pour the sauce over each one, and sprinkle with whatever Gruyère and Parmesan are left.
7. Broil about three minutes or less until the bread is lovely and brown and the cheese is melted and bubbly.
8. Fry the eggs in the butter and plop them on top of the divine sandwiches when you take them out of the broiler.
If you make this for lunch, you probably won’t need much dinner.
Mary Louise’s cooking tip: Marry a man who makes a great chili. Encourage him to make it when you want a night off from cooking.
Chapter 7
When In Doubt, Eat Out
When we got in the cab, I put my arms around Mike and hugged him without saying anything. I couldn’t talk. I was close to tears.
“It’s okay, honey,” he said. “Go ahead and cry if you want.”
And I did cry. They were tears of joy for Danielle and for that little baby that would now be born. I cried, too, for not being with this man all the time, not just stolen moments in between rehearsals. I cried because I didn’t know how to fix anything.
When I could talk, I said, “Mike, thank you for saving that baby for Danielle. Thank you for putting up with me when I’m such a coward. I don’t know why you don’t just tell me to get out of your life and leave you alone.”
He kissed me. “Mary Louise. My sweet Mary Louise. The moments I have with you are the best moments of my life. I understand how hard this is for you. I’ll wait until you either marry me or tell me you can’t see me any more because you’re going to stay married to George. In the meantime, I’m just going to love you.”
The cab pulled up to the theater, and Mike said, “Tomorrow I’m taking you to walk a labyrinth down by the East River. It will help you put everything in perspective. Have you ever done that?”
“No, I thought you got lost in them. I don’t need to get lost any more than I am already.”
“You’re thinking of a maze,” Mike said. “They’re different from labyrinths. People often confuse them. Mazes have paths that don’t go anywhere, that take you into blind alleys. Labryinths have a path that leads you to the center. A peaceful center. And this one down by the river was designed by my friend Diana Carulli. It’s beautiful.
“It sounds wonderful, Mike,” I said. “I’d love to go.
“See you tomorrow,” he said and kissed me again.
I felt young and happy. When I got back on stage, my friends gathered around me, and I could tell they were relieved at the expression on my face.
“How’s Danielle?” Tina asked.
“Did they save the baby?” Pat asked.
“Are you all right?” Janice asked.
I told them Mike and his colleague saved the baby, that Danielle was fine.
“And she said something interesting,” I said and lowered my voice. “She said she wanted to tell me something about Glenna’s death.”
“No kidding!” Gini said. “So when are you going to see her and find out what she meant?” Gini said.
“I told her I’d talk to her when she got out of the hospital.”
“You’ve got to see her right away!” Gini said, raising her voice.
“Gini, she almost lost her baby,” I said. “I want to give her time to recover.”
I looked behind me and realized that Shelli was hovering in the background. She wasn’t usually on stage. I felt uneasy that I had mentioned what Danielle had said. I wasn’t sure if she had heard me or not.
I motioned with my head to Gini that Shelli was behind us and she lowered her voice.
“Did you make a date to meet her and talk to her?” Gini said almost in a whisper.
“Not yet,” I said, then seeing that Gini was about to explode, I added, “Take it easy, Gini. I’ll ask her as soon as she gets out of the hospital and is feeling better.”
“Leave her alone, Gini,” Tina said, pulling her away from me. She glanced up at Shelli, who had moved closer to us. “Can we do anything for you, Shelli?”
Shelli looked startled. “No, no, I’m fine,” she said. “I’m waiting for Marlowe to come back. I guess I’ll wait backstage.”
“See you tomorrow, then,” Tina said. “I’ll go find Nevaeh and see if she wants us to do anything more today.”
Just then Nevaeh came on stage and asked me if I was all right.
“I’m fine, Nevaeh,” I said. “Do you want to rehearse some more?”
“I think we’ve had enough for one day,” she said. “Why don’t you Hoofers go home and come back tomorrow for some more Santa.”
“Really looking forward to that.” Gini said.
“Thanks, Nevaeh,” Tina said. “I’ll give Peter a call.
After a brief conversation with Peter, she said, “He’s in the middle of something he can’t leave. He asked if we would mind taking the train home tonight. I told him we’d be glad to.”
We all agreed and took a train from Penn Station. I got home around seven. George wasn’t there yet.
I poured myself a glass of Chardonnay, and opened The New York Times to the crossword puzzle. It was the Wednesday puzzle, so it didn’t take me long to finish it. I had just filled in the last word when George opened the door.
“You’re late,” I said.
“I was working on that damn case,” he said. “When did you get home?”
“Not till seven,” I said.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “What’s for dinner?”
“I don’t really feel like cooking, George,” I said. “Let’s go to that little restaurant near the station. It’s always practically empty, but they’ve got great food.”
“I want to stay home. I’ve had a rotten day.”
“Me too,” I said. “I need to go out.”
“What do you know about rotten days,” he said. “You’re just dancing.”
“Not today,” I said and went to the closet for my coat. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get to the restaurant.”
He didn’t look happy about it but agreed to go.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, we were seated in a quiet corner of the Cafe de Maupassant. We were the only people there. It was lovely. No noise. The owner came over to welcome us and wait on us. He handed us menus that promised real French food and reasonably priced wines. Pictures of Paris lined the walls. Two French restaurants in one day. Can’t have too many. The owner brought us our wine right away.
I took a sip of my Sauvignon blanc. George raised his glass to me and said, “Here’s to you, Mary Louise. No matter how big a grouch I am sometimes, I hope you know how much you mean to me.”
“I do know, George,” I said. “I apprec
iate how difficult this case is you’re working on now.”
“It’s not just that,” he said. “Lately, you seem so far away. It’s as if you wished you were somewhere else.”
I looked at this man I had loved for such a long time. This good man who was the father of my three children. The man who would have died for me.
I couldn’t tell him about Mike. Not tonight. I’d keep it for another time. I couldn’t hurt him.
“I’m sorry, George,” I said. “I don’t mean to neglect you.”
“It’s not neglect,” he said. “It’s like you don’t love me anymore.”
“Oh, George,” I said, reaching across the table to take his hand, “I’ve just had so many other things on my mind. This job isn’t like any of the other gigs we’ve had. We usually go someplace, dance our feet off, and have a great time. Well, except for the murders.”
“What’s different about this one?” he asked.
“Well, take today as an example,” I said. “We were ready to exercise to strengthen our muscles when the Rockette who was telling us what to do—her name is Danielle—suddenly doubled over in pain. It turned out she was pregnant, and it looked like she was about to lose her baby. We called the ambulance, and I went to the emergency room with her.”
“For God’s sake, Mary Louise,” he said. “What happened?”
I told him the whole story, and he was about to explode into a rant about my life as a dancer when the owner came back to take our order. We were still the only people in the restaurant.
“Is it always this quiet?” I asked him.
“It gets more crowded later on,” he said. “It’s still pretty early.”
I thought seven-thirty was when most people had dinner, but I didn’t want to say anything. It was obvious that not as many people liked French food as much as we did.
I ordered a veal cordon bleu. It’s sort of a veal sandwich and one of my favorite dishes. I knew it was very good at this restaurant. George ordered a blanquette de veau and managed to calm down enough to talk to me rationally.
“I don’t see why you thought you had to go to the hospital with her. You barely know her. Couldn’t one of her friends have gone with her?”
“Well . . .” I didn’t want to go into the whole thing about Mike and how I called him and how he made everything go faster.
“There’s something else, George,” I said. “She said she had something to tell me about Glenna’s death, that she had to tell somebody. She chose me.”
“Please, Mary Louise,” he said. “Stay out of this. You don’t really know what happened to Glenna.”
“I won’t take any unnecessary chances, George. Don’t worry. She probably doesn’t really know anything significant about Glenna’s death. But I do want to find out what she meant. Gini said she started to say something about it the other day but was too afraid to talk.”
“Let Gini go talk to her then.”
“Danielle said she wanted to talk to me, not Gini.”
“What exactly did Gini say she started to say?” George asked.
“Gini said she kept repeating, ‘I didn’t do anything.”
“That doesn’t mean she knows who did it,” George said with an impatient wave of his hand. “You women are just making up something out of nothing.”
“That’s what Peter said,” I said and took a bite of my cordon bleu the waiter had just put down in front of me. It was sublime. A little veal sandwich filled with some kind of divine melted cheese and ham.
“How come you were the one who went to the hospital with Danielle, anyway,” George asked again, taking a mouthful of his blanquette and pouring me a glass of wine. “Why didn’t one of the other Rockettes go with her?”
“Danielle was rehearsing us,” I said. “There weren’t any other Rockettes around. I couldn’t let her go alone. It’s too frightening going to the emergency room by yourself.”
“So you went to the hospital with her and waited all by yourself while they treated her? None of your friends were with you, either?”
I took a sip of my wine. “Just me,” I said. I’m not very good at lying. I hated not telling George the truth. I would have to tell him about Mike soon, but I couldn’t do it on this evening sitting across the table from him in this lovely restaurant. I asked George about his case to change the subject and managed to stay off the subject of Danielle and the hospital for the rest of our meal.
Our dinner was delicious and the tables gradually filled up with other customers. Our whole meal was a blessed respite from what had happened in New York that day.
I fell asleep in George’s arms that night.
RECIPE FOR VEAL CORDON BLEU
Serves 4
8 thin slices of veal cutlet
8 slices Gruyere cheese
4 thin slices baked ham
1 cup Panko
2 tsp. salt
¾ tsp. ground black pepper
¾ cup flour
2 large eggs
2 T. butter
2 T. olive oil
1. Make four sandwiches of veal cutlets filling each one with a slice of ham and two slices of cheese.
2. Line up three dishes. Put flour, salt, and pepper in the first dish; eggs, salt and pepper in the second dish; and panko, salt, and pepper in the third.
3. Dip the sandwiches in the flour, then the eggs, then the panko. Put them in the fridge until you’re ready to cook them.
4. Cook the veal sandwiches in the butter and olive oil until they’re brown and the cheese melts, turning them once, about five minutes altogether.
Expect all kinds of oohs and aahs when you serve this.
RECIPE FOR BLANQUETTE DE VEAU
Serves 6
2 lb. veal cut up into cubes
14 whole little white onions, peeled
Parsley
1 stalk celery
1 leek
1 bay leaf
1 clove garlic
¼ tsp. peppercorns
¼ tsp. thyme
2 tsp. salt
2 T. butter, softened
2 T. flour
1 cup heavy cream
2 egg yolks
¾ cup mushrooms sautéed in butter
1. Boil the veal briefly in water in a deep pot for five minutes. Drain.
2. Fill the pot with the meat in it with four cups of water, the carrots, and the little white onions.
3. Make a bouquet garni, filling a cheesecloth bag with the parsley, celery, leek, bay leaf, garlic, peppercorns, and thyme, and put the tied-up bag in the pot with the meat. Add the salt and simmer the whole thing until the veal is tender, about two hours. Take out the veal, carrots, and onions, but do not throw away the water.
4. Keep the veal, carrots, and onions warm. Throw out the bouquet garni.
5. Boil the water that you simmered the veal in, and carefully saved, until it’s reduced about two-thirds.
6. Cream the butter with the flour and add it to the water. Boil for about a minute, stirring constantly all the while.
7. Mix the eggs yolks and cream together and add it to the thickened broth, again stirring constantly until you have a nice thick cream sauce. Do not boil, though, or it will curdle. Just cook gently.
8. You now have one of the best-tasting sauces ever made to pour over your veal, carrots, and onions you kept warm.
9. Toss on the buttery mushrooms and you have a meal fit for your best friends.
10. Serve with rice or mashed potatoes and a lovely salad.
(May I come to dinner? I love this dish!)
Mary Louise’s cooking tip: When in doubt, go to a website such as Allrecipes.com to find the perfect way to cook that meat or fish.
Chapter 8
Get Me My Lawyer
The next day, Peter was there bright and early, and I ran out to join my friends who were, as usual, full of questions.
“So are you going to find out what Danielle meant about Glenna’s murder today?” Gini asked.
I hesitated,
George’s warnings bouncing around in my head. “Well, maybe not today, but . . .”
“What day then?” Gini yelped. “Next Christmas?”
“Calm down, Gini,” Tina said. “I’m sure Mary Louise will talk to her when she feels she’s recovered from almost losing her baby. Maybe at the next rehearsal.”
“She said she wasn’t coming back to the theater,” I said. “She’s afraid the same thing will happen again if she exercises too strenuously, and she’ll lose the baby. I think her days as a Rockette are over.”
“Well, if she isn’t coming back to the theater, when do you expect to see her?” Gini asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, moving farther away from my persistent questioner. “I’ll figure something out. We have no idea what really happened to Glenna. Danielle said she wanted to talk to me about her death, not her murder. Anyway, if you’re so anxious to find out what she has to say, why don’t you ask her? Call her up.”
“She obviously wants to tell you,” Gini said. “You got Mike to help her, and she’s grateful.”
“I know,” I said. “Could we talk about something else—please, Gini!”
Tina gestured to Gini to back off, and Gini sputtered into silence.
“You’ll figure it out, Weezie,” Tina said. “Take your time.”
I smiled at her. I’m always grateful to Tina for her thoughtfulness.
“Hold it, ladies,” Peter said, almost bumping into the curb as he backed out of the driveway. “What’s all this about Danielle and Glenna’s death?” He looked accusingly at Tina in the front seat next to him. “You never tell me anything,” he said.
“Oh, Peter, I forgot,” she said. “Danielle said she wanted to tell Mary Louise something about Glenna’s death, but we have no idea what it is.”
