Wedding Bell Blunders: A Freshly Baked Cozy Mystery

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Wedding Bell Blunders: A Freshly Baked Cozy Mystery Page 5

by Kathleen Suzette


  She nodded. “That’s what she told me. It’s so strange that he would die of a diabetic coma like that.”

  I looked at her, tilting my head. “A diabetic coma?”

  She looked at me, surprised, and nodded. “Yes, that’s what I heard he died from. Didn’t he die of a diabetic coma?”

  I glanced at Lucy. I didn’t want to be the one who told her that he died from taking medication that wasn’t prescribed to him. “Oh, I wasn’t sure what he died of. I guess I was surprised since Jodi said that he had low blood sugar but had never had issues with it before.”

  “It must have just come on,” Lucy said. “Sometimes people have diabetes for a long time before they ever go to the doctor. He may have been ignoring the symptoms.”

  Della nodded. “I think that’s exactly what happened. He was young, so he probably thought he couldn’t have something like diabetes.”

  We looked up as the bell over the door jingled, and Jodi walked through it. She hesitated, looking at Della. “Sorry I’m late, Della. It took a little longer to walk here than I thought it would.”

  Della frowned. “That’s all right. You can stay late and make up the seventeen minutes.”

  She nodded and turned to us. “Good morning, Allie. Good morning, Lucy. I’m so sorry about what happened at your reception, Allie. I feel terrible that your wedding day was ruined.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t apologize. My wedding wasn’t ruined. I married the man of my dreams, and the wedding was just the proverbial icing on the cake. Honestly, I’m just sorry for Richard’s family.”

  She went behind the counter and stood next to Della. “I still can’t get over it. We were just talking about it yesterday, and it seems so unlikely that he would die from a diabetic coma.”

  I didn’t know where they had gotten the idea that he died from a diabetic coma. Was it still called a diabetic coma if he hadn’t been a diabetic? Or maybe the pills had forced him into an artificial diabetic coma?

  “Is that what his mother told you?” I asked.

  She hesitated, and then she shook her head. “No, I heard it from his cousin, Jared Thomas. Is it not true?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. Was he feeling sick while you were here cooking in the morning?”

  Della shook her head. “No, he seemed fine. As I said, he was tired because he’d been up late the night before. I got onto him because he knew that he had to be here early to make the food for your reception, and he had stayed out late. So, of course, he was tired, and he was whining and complaining about it being so early. He said he wanted to go back to bed.”

  “Richard liked to drink a lot,” Jodi volunteered. “I thought he was just dealing with a hangover. When he said his blood sugar was low, I thought it was because he had had too much alcohol the night before, but he insisted that wasn’t it. That was when I suggested that he eat some frosting to help bring his blood sugar back up. Honestly, I’m surprised he showed up at all. Everyone knows that he likes to stay out late drinking on the weekends.” She glanced at Della.

  “Maybe he was suffering from a hangover, and that overshadowed the symptoms of whatever it was that he was dealing with,” I said, glancing at Lucy.

  Lucy nodded. “I bet that was it. Maybe he didn’t feel well on top of having a hangover.”

  “So Richard liked to drink a lot?” I asked.

  Jodi nodded, glancing at Della again. “Yes, I was surprised at how much he drank. A friend and I ran into him at the bar a couple of weeks ago, and he was really putting away the hard stuff. I was just so surprised.”

  I wondered if he had switched from doing drugs to drinking. Or maybe he was doing drugs on top of the alcohol consumption. At any rate, either of them would shorten your life if you weren’t careful. “I know his mother, Mary Thomas. We need to stop by and check on her,” I said to Lucy.

  Della nodded. “I need to stop by and check on her in a couple of days. She was so broken up when she was here earlier, and I’m worried about her.”

  “Poor thing. I’m sure she’s struggling right now. Losing a child has got to be a nightmare,” I said. “We’ll try to stop by and see her in the next day or so, too. I’m sure it will be a help to her to have people checking on her.”

  She smiled. “I think she would appreciate that.”

  We talked about how good the reception food was for a few minutes, and then we left.

  “So why is Richard’s cousin telling people that Richard died of a diabetic coma?” Lucy asked when we got into my car.

  I shook my head. “I’d like to know the answer to that, too.”

  Chapter Eight

  Since Alec and I weren’t going on our honeymoon right away, I decided I needed to stop by the grocery store. In the two weeks leading up to my wedding, I did my best not to buy many groceries because I knew we would be gone for a couple of weeks after the wedding, and I didn’t want food to spoil in the refrigerator. My family had all gone to their respective homes, and we had done our best to eat all the leftovers from the wedding reception. That left the refrigerator looking pretty bare. A trip to the grocery store was in order so I could pick up a few things for meals for the next several days. I didn’t know how long Alec would want to wait before we went on our honeymoon, but I was sure it wouldn’t be before the weekend.

  I was pushing my shopping cart down the meat aisle looking for some steaks. We could have them one night served with a salad and a baked potato. That would be easy enough to make without any leftovers to worry about. I peered into the refrigerated case at the trays of meat and decided on ribeye steak and found a package just large enough to feed us and put it into my shopping cart. They also had a good sale on T-bone, so I grabbed one of those. I was sure Alec wouldn’t complain about having steak two nights this week.

  I looked up and saw Lisa Wilson pushing a shopping cart, looking in at the packages of meat as she went. I pushed my shopping cart forward a few paces. “Oh, good morning, Lisa.”

  She looked up at me and smiled when she realized who was speaking to her. “Good morning, Allie.”

  I nodded and smiled. “I sure was sorry to hear about Richard.”

  She frowned and nodded. “Me too. I still can’t get over it. I can’t imagine how he could have died like that.”

  I shook my head. “I feel bad for his family. Are you doing a little shopping today?” I looked into her shopping cart, and it was filled with an assortment of produce, two bags of flour and one of sugar.

  “I’m doing some shopping for the catering business. Della sent me down here to pick up a few things. We have another wedding to cater on the weekend. I’m supposed to pick up some steaks, but I don’t think the grocery store is going to have enough of them.”

  “I would imagine you would have to put in an order in advance for a large quantity. How many people are you serving?”

  “Sixty. But some of them have asked for chicken, so only thirty-five will be eating steak.”

  I nodded. “That’s a lot of steaks. You guys are going to be busy cooking steak and chicken.”

  “Oh, you have no idea. And now we’re short an employee. I love what I do, but sometimes the amount of food that we handle is overwhelming.”

  I shook my head. “I can only imagine. I love to cook. Well, mostly I love to bake. I make all the desserts for Henry’s Home Cooking Restaurant.”

  Her eyes widened. “I heard you made their desserts. My husband and I went there two weeks ago, and we ordered carrot cake. It was the best carrot cake we’d ever tasted.”

  I grinned. I never got tired of hearing people compliment me on my baked goods. “That would be one of mine. Thank you so much. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “I wish I was a better baker. I can cook just fine, but for some reason, baking eludes me. I’m determined that one day I’m going to make the perfect blackberry pie. It’s my husband’s favorite, and every time I make it for him, the crust is soggy or it’s too dry, and it burns.”

  I nodded.
“I prefer to make my piecrust with butter. A lot of people don’t use butter in their piecrusts anymore, but I just love the flakiness and the flavor.”

  “I’ll have to try it with butter. Maybe it will turn out better.”

  I nodded and stepped closer to her shopping cart. “I guess Della is going to have to hire somebody to replace Richard.”

  She nodded. “I’m sure she will. She was thinking about hiring on another person in addition to him, so I suppose she’ll have to hire two people.”

  “Oh goodness, she’s going to be on the lookout for candidates then. If I hear of anybody, I’ll send them her way.”

  She nodded, and then she hesitated, biting her bottom lip. “Della has really grown the business in the past year. She’s very good at getting out and talking to people and selling her services.”

  She said it hesitantly, and it made me think that she wanted to say something more.

  “In today’s economy, you’ve got to be a good salesperson no matter what it is that you do. It’s good that she knows how to do that sort of thing.”

  She nodded and glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to me. “You know, Peggy Adams used to own the catering business. We didn’t do as much business then, but she took a lot of pride in her work.”

  I knew Peggy well. “Peggy is an excellent cook and baker. I envy her skills.”

  She nodded gratefully. “Me too. She taught me so much, and I sure do miss working with her. But I can understand that she was ready to retire. You don’t learn to cook as well as she does unless you’ve been doing it for a lot of years.”

  “I agree. It takes a long time to hone your skills, and Peggy certainly did that. But it’s tough standing on your feet day after day doing all that cooking, and I’m sure she was ready for retirement.”

  “It is. Believe me, I know all about that.” She chuckled. “Della is just a different kind of person.”

  “And?” I asked her. There seemed to be something else she wanted to say, but she wasn’t quite certain she could say it to me. I wanted her to know that she could.

  She nodded. “Between you and me, she cuts corners.”

  This surprised me. “How does she cut corners?”

  She shrugged, glancing away. Then she looked at me again. “Sometimes she buys cheaper cuts of meat, or cheaper foods, and passes them off as better quality. You can cover up a lot with sauces, depending on the dish. It bothers me because Peggy always went out of her way to make sure that she served only the best.”

  I didn’t appreciate hearing this since I had just hired her as the caterer for my wedding. But the food was excellent. Honestly, I couldn’t have asked for anything better. “I’m sorry to hear that. Some people don’t take pride in their work.”

  She nodded. “Exactly. That’s the way I feel about it too. And she and Richard sometimes didn’t get along very well.”

  “Oh?”

  She looked at me and was quiet for a moment. “Yes, he knew that she was being cheap when she bought some of the ingredients, and she was passing them off as better quality. It’s not like Richard was a gourmet or anything like that, but I guess it just irritated him that she was charging so much money for things that weren’t of the highest quality.”

  There was a part of me that didn’t blame him. “How did Richard get the job at the catering business?”

  “His mother knows Della. I guess Richard had gotten into some trouble a few years back, and he’d moved away, but when he came back, he needed a job. His mother talked to Della, and she said she would give him a try. She was doing her a favor.”

  “How was he to work with?”

  She shrugged. “He was all right. He pulled his weight most of the time. But there were days that it was a little irritating because he was constantly taking smoke breaks. But most of the time, he did a good job.”

  “But Della didn’t like him complaining about how she ran her business, did she?” I wondered about this now. If he was having issues with his employer, was that how he lost his life?

  “To be honest, Della is a difficult woman to get along with. She’s a perfectionist to be sure, but not in the same way Peggy was. Like I said, she cut corners, but she still expected us to produce quality dishes. Sometimes it’s frustrating. There’s only so much you can do with a cheap cut of steak. Even when you tenderize it, it can still be tough, and people are going to notice.”

  “That’s for sure,” I said. “We decided to skip steak for my reception because I wondered if it would be tender enough. I took a general poll with everyone, and they were all good with seafood, so that’s what we went with.” I didn’t want to ask if she had cut corners with my seafood. We had already eaten it, and everyone thought it was delicious, and no one had gotten sick, thankfully.

  “As long as you don’t have allergies, seafood is the way to go,” she agreed. “Well, I had better get my shopping done. Please don’t say anything to anybody about what I told you about Della.”

  I shook my head. “Your secret is safe with me. I completely understand what you’re saying. It must be difficult for you to watch her cut corners after you worked with Peggy for so many years, and you know how it’s supposed to be done.”

  She nodded. “Exactly. Well, it’s been nice talking to you, Allie. I’m going to talk to the butcher and see if they can get enough steak in by the weekend for that wedding reception. Otherwise, I’m going to have to go in search of more beef.”

  “I’ll talk to you later, Lisa,” I said and pushed my shopping cart out of the meat department. I didn’t like hearing that Della was cutting corners in the catering business. I wondered how much I had overpaid for my reception food. And I wondered how much it bothered her that her employee hadn’t approved of her tactics. Her dead employee.

  Chapter Nine

  I couldn’t help but think about Mary Thomas and what she must be going through after losing her son. While I was at the grocery store, I bought the ingredients to make an apple pie, and I went home and got to work on it. When I lost my first husband nine years ago, in my grief I had baked a pie every day for years. I rarely ate more than one slice, but there were always people stopping by, and I would offer it to them. Sometimes I never touched the pie, and I would take it to someone I knew might need it and leave it with them. The day before Thaddeus’ funeral, I stayed up most of the night and baked dozens of pies, and it just went on from there.

  After a while, even though the grief wasn’t as crushing as it had been at first, I continued to bake a pie every day. It was a habit. It wasn’t until I met Alec that I broke that habit. It wasn’t anything I did on purpose; it was just that I skipped a day one week, and then a week later, I skipped two days and so on. Eventually, I only baked pies when I needed them. Now, unfortunately, the act of making a pie sometimes reminded me of why I had begun to bake them in the first place. I shook away the thought. Thaddeus would always be a part of my life. He had given me two beautiful children that I treasured, and someday those children would give me grandchildren. It broke my heart that Thaddeus wasn’t going to be here to see those grandchildren, but Alec would do his best to stand in for him. Alec was a man of character, and he would be the grandfather those kids needed.

  When the pie was finished and cooled a little, I covered it loosely with aluminum foil, and I took it out to my car. Alec was working at his office or the police station, and I would catch up with him later.

  I drove over to Mary’s house and got out. When she answered the door, she was surprised to see me. She smiled, her eyes were red and puffy.

  “Hello, Mary,” I said. “I just wanted to stop by and tell you how sorry I am about Richard.”

  She nodded and pushed open the screen door. “Thank you. Would you like to come in?”

  I nodded and followed her inside the house. “I baked you an apple pie.”

  “That’s so sweet of you, Allie.” She took the pie from me, and I followed her into the kitchen where she set it on the counter. “Would you like
some coffee?” she asked.

  I nodded. “I would love some.”

  “I already have a pot brewing,” she said and got two cups down from the cupboard and set them on the counter, then filled them with coffee. “Do you take cream?” She seemed a bit distracted. I knew that feeling so well.

  “Yes, please.” Mary’s kitchen was homey with red and white checked curtains and a red and white checked tablecloth on the small round table in the kitchen. There were ceramic pigs on the counter near the sink, and the kitchen was neat and clean.

  “I still can’t believe this happened,” she said and brought the cream from the refrigerator and set it on the table next to a sugar bowl. Then she picked up the cups of coffee and set them on the table.

  “I can’t imagine what you must be going through,” I told her.

  She nodded absently. “Why don’t we have a slice of pie with our coffee?”

  “That would be nice. Would you like me to cut it?”

  She nodded again, still smiling sadly. “That would be nice.”

  She got some plates and forks out while I got busy cutting the pie. I put a piece for each of us on plates, and we sat down at the table to drink our coffee.

  “I’m so sorry about Richard. Was he sick recently?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “No, he was doing well. He was so proud of his job, and he would tell me all the time what they were doing down there. Whose event they were catering and what dishes they were making. He never had an interest in cooking before, but he picked it up quickly.”

  “That’s wonderful that he enjoyed himself. He got sick at my reception. I don’t know if you knew that. We did our best to help him until the ambulance got there.” I hated to say it, but I was sure she must know.

  She nodded, looking at her cup of coffee. “I’m so sorry. That must have been difficult for you to deal with at your wedding reception.”

 

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