by Joanne Fluke
“What do you mean?”
“She’s been singing Norman’s praises to me all week. I think she sees a potential son-in-law slipping away.”
Andrea took her eyes off the road for a moment. “Why? Is Norman dating someone else?”
“Not yet. Watch the road, Andrea. There’s an icy patch up ahead.” Hannah waited until her sister had turned her attention back to the road. “Carrie told Mother that Ronni Ward’s been having her teeth cleaned too often.”
“Ronni Ward and Norman?” Andrea thought about it for a moment. “That’s not quite as crazy as it sounds. Norman makes good money, and Ronni always said she wanted to marry a doctor.”
“Norman’s a dentist,” Hannah pointed out.
“But people still call him Dr. Rhodes. That’s all that matters to Ronni. She always wanted to be Mrs. Dr. Somebody-or-other.”
“Maybe she should concentrate on Reverend Knudson. He’s a doctor of divinity.”
Andrea laughed, and Hannah knew she was imagining their dour Lutheran minister with Lake Eden’s three-time bikini queen. “Maybe you should call him to remind him that you’re still available.”
“Reverend Knudson?”
“No, Norman.”
“I will. But I thought you were rooting for Mike as a brother-in-law.”
“I adore Mike; you know that, and so does Bill. Bill says that he’s the best partner he’s ever had. But it’s like Mother always says: Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”
“So you think that I should keep dating both of them?”
“It couldn’t hurt. You’ve got to play the odds, Hannah. Think of how you’d feel if you ditched Norman and Mike didn’t propose. Or vice versa.”
“Disaster,” Hannah said, nodding solemnly. And then she turned away to hide a grin. Andrea was just like their mother. They were both trying to marry her off, and the event seemed to matter much more than the identity of the groom.
Connie Mac’s limo driver seemed intent on his driving, and that suited Hannah just fine. She’d never been any good at uttering polite banalities in the name of social grace.
Connie Mac had arrived at the inn an hour behind schedule, and she’d offered the services of her personal limo and driver for the tour. Hannah had climbed in front to direct the driver to the venues, and Andrea, who was sitting in the back with Connie Mac, had explained which events would be held there. After a brief stop at Jordan High, where they’d viewed the displays, examined the shuttle sleighs, and spoken to the principal, Mr. Purvis, they were on their way to the Lake Eden Community Center to meet Marge Beeseman at the library and to check in with Edna Ferguson.
Everyone who was walking down Main Street stopped to stare as Connie Mac’s limo passed by. That didn’t surprise Hannah. Connie Mac was the first big celebrity to come to Lake Eden, and her limo was definitely an eye-catcher. It was painted peach, Connie Mac’s favorite color, and her name was lettered in flowing gold script on the doors. Even though the windows were tinted so that no one could see in, anyone who could read knew exactly who was riding inside.
The intercom chimed as they neared the community center, and Connie Mac’s voice came over the speaker. “Pull up in front of the door, Spencer.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The driver pulled up next to the curb in a no-parking zone and hopped out of the limo to open the door. As Hannah watched him usher Connie Mac out, she wondered if Spencer ever felt silly in his uniform. It was black, the type that chauffeurs always wore in the movies, but his shirt and tie were peach to match the color of the limo.
Andrea and Hannah scrambled out of the limo with no assistance from Spencer. He obviously knew his priorities. They followed Connie Mac up the front steps that led to the community center and into the lobby.
“This won’t take more than a few minutes,” Connie Mac told Spencer. “Park in the lot and watch the door. When I come out, pull up in front.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Spencer said, tipping his cap and turning to go.
“Spencer?”
Spencer halted and turned to face her. “Yes, ma’am?”
“I’ve warned you before to wait until I dismiss you. I won’t remind you again.”
Spencer shifted from foot to foot and dropped his gaze to the brown indoor-outdoor carpeting that covered the floor of the lobby. The color crept up the back of his neck, and Hannah knew he was embarrassed at being reprimanded in front of them.
“Your notepad, Spencer?”
Spencer responded, pulling a small leather-bound notebook and pen from his pocket. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Call the chef at the inn and tell him I want free-range capon tonight, no substitutes.”
“Yes, ma’am. Would you care for a salad?”
“Endive, radicchio, and butter lettuce with a vinaigrette of extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar mixed at table-side. No potatoes. In a small town like this, they’ll probably be french fries.”
Hannah bit her tongue to keep silent. Her friend, Sally Laughlin, was the chef at the inn and her french fries were legendary.
“Rolls with the salad course, but make sure they’re not commercial,” Connie Mac continued, “and fresh raspberries drizzled with Grand Marnier for dessert.”
Spencer jotted that down and then he looked up from his notepad. “Will there be anything else, ma’am?”
“Contact the desk and have them send up a maid to unpack for me. She should hang everything on padded hangers and press anything that’s wrinkled.” Connie Mac stopped and frowned slightly. “Make sure someone from my staff is there to keep an eye on her. I brought some of my good jewelry for the banquet tomorrow evening. Do you know if the inn has a safe?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Call the desk and ask. And tell them to send a bottle of properly chilled Pouilly Fuisse to my suite.” Connie Mac paused and a tiny frown appeared on her forehead. “I know there’s something else, but I can’t think of it right now. That’s all, Spencer. You may go.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Spencer tipped his hat again and this time he made it out the door. Hannah tried to catch her sister’s eye, but Andrea seemed starstruck and completely oblivious to the fact that the Cooking Sweetheart had just embarrassed her chauffeur, insulted Sally’s culinary skills, and questioned the honesty of the maids at the inn.
Chapter Four
“I’m just so thrilled to meet you, Mrs. MacIntyre.” Marge Beeseman’s voice shook slightly as she reached out to take Connie Mac’s hand. Her brown hair was clipped short and frosted with blond, but it was clear to Hannah that Marge’s new “do” hadn’t succeeded as a total confidence builder. “Your cookbooks arrived yesterday, all two hundred of them.”
Connie Mac smiled the sweetest smile that Hannah had seen yet, the very same smile she used on her show. “You really must call me Connie Mac. ‘Mrs. MacIntyre’ is simply too formal. May I call you Marge?”
“Of course,” Marge breathed, obviously impressed by Connie Mac’s tailored suit of peach wool and her gracious manner. “Just follow me and I’ll show you the table I set up for your book signing. It’s going to be such a wonderful fund-raiser for the library! Everyone in town wants to meet you and buy an autographed copy.”
Connie Mac frowned as they approached the table that Marge had set up at the back of the library. “This is where you want me to sign my books?”
“Yes, I set it up this way on purpose. When people come in, they’ll get to see the whole library on their way to your table.”
“That’s certainly important,” Connie Mac said pleasantly, but Hannah could tell that she wasn’t pleased. “I have an idea, Marge. I think we should move my book signing to the lobby of the community center.”
“But we want people to see the library. If you’re in the lobby, they won’t come all the way back here.”
Connie Mac linked arms with Marge and walked her back toward the entrance of the library. “Let’s put our heads together, Marge. I’m sure that between the two
of us, we can come up with a solution to our little problem. We have to decide which is more important, raising funds for the library, or giving people a tour.”
“They’re both important,” Marge insisted, digging in her heels.
“Of course they are, but how about this? I’ll sign copies of Sweets For Your Sweetie in the lobby and you’ll sit right next to me at the table. Then, when people ask about the library, you can tell them about it and invite them to come back to visit when the Winter Carnival is over. With all the other activities going on, I doubt they’ll do much reading this week anyway.”
Hannah waited for Marge to explode. The Lake Eden Community Library was her baby. She was proud of what she’d done and it was only natural for her to want everyone to see it.
But the expected explosion didn’t come. Marge just looked flattered as she asked, “You want me to sit with you?”
“Of course I do. The mayor told me how instrumental you’ve been in planning this library. He said it was all your idea and you should take credit for it.” Connie Mac patted Marge’s arm. “And I must admit that I have a selfish reason for wanting you to sit with me, Marge.”
“Really?”
“Most people don’t know this about me, but I’m really a very shy person and I just hate the idea of sitting in the lobby all alone. If you’re with me, you can introduce me to all your friends.”
Marge preened a bit. “I could certainly do that. I know everyone in Lake Eden. I was born and raised here.”
“I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time together,” Connie Mac said, stepping out of the library and into the hallway. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Marge.”
Hannah rolled her eyes as she followed Andrea and Connie Mac down the stairs to the banquet room. The Cooking Sweetheart was a steamroller when it came to getting her way, but she had charm and she knew when to dish it out. After only one dose, Marge Beeseman, one of the most obstinate women in Lake Eden, had caved in like an underbaked cake.
“Edna? We’re here,” Hannah called out as they entered the banquet room in the basement of the community center.
Edna, a thin woman with wiry gray hair that had been permed to death, bustled out of the kitchen. She was wearing a new, sparkling-white apron that Hannah knew was her version of “all dressed up.”
“Hannah, Andrea.” Edna smiled as she greeted them and then she turned to Connie Mac. “I’m real pleased to meet you, Mrs. MacIntyre. Where’s the cake?”
Hannah choked back a laugh. Edna had always been blunt. But it didn’t seem to faze Connie Mac, because she just smiled.
“It’s in my supply van and my driver is bringing it,” she told Edna. “It’s six tiers high, the decorations are white on white, and I worked on it for simply hours last night. Where do you think we should display it?”
“We could set up a card table,” Edna suggested.
Connie Mac considered it for a moment and then she sighed. “I’d rather not do that. Card tables are so unstable.” She pointed to the pedestal in the center of the room. “How about that pedestal? It looks sturdy enough.”
“We can’t use that.” Edna shook her head. “That’s where the crowns for the Prince and Princess of Winter are going to be displayed.”
“But we could put them on that card table you mentioned. The pedestal is just the right size for my cake.”
Edna looked as if she wanted to object, but she didn’t. That made Hannah suspect she’d been warned to be extra nice to their favored celebrity. “I’ll have to ask Mayor Bascomb.”
“I’m sure he’ll agree. After all, my cake is the star of the show, so to speak. I’ll have one of my people rig up a spotlight and it’ll create a wonderful photo op right here in the center of the room. I think we should pose for a picture together, don’t you?”
“Well…I don’t know about that. I’m going to be pretty busy in the kitchen.”
“It’ll only take a few minutes. I’d really like to have a picture of us together, Edna.” Connie Mac paused and looked a bit embarrassed. “You don’t mind if I call you Edna, do you?”
Edna shook her head. “Edna’s fine. That’s what everybody calls me.”
“Good. And I hope you’ll call me Connie Mac. I’d like to be friends since we’ll be working on the banquet together.”
“You want to help me cook for the banquet?”
Connie Mac gave a sweet little laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of interfering, especially since the mayor told me that you’re the best cook in the county. Have you heard about my new kitchen boutique at the Tri-County Mall?”
“’Course I have. Your grand opening’s on Monday. Rod Metcalf ran an article about it in the Lake Eden Journal.”
“I do hope you’ll come out to take a peek, Edna. It’s going to be our largest store, and you have no idea how many new things I’ve ordered! As a matter of fact, I went down to our main warehouse in Minneapolis this morning to see what I could find for you.”
Edna looked surprised. “You brought me something from your boutique?”
“It was the least I could do. After all, you’re organizing the whole banquet. I chose a dinner setting for two hundred, including glassware, linens, silver, and some simply lovely decorations for the tables. It’s a gift from the new Connie Mac’s Kitchen Boutique.”
Edna seemed stunned at this largesse. When she recovered, she gasped, “Well, my goodness! We could use those dishes, that’s for sure. Whenever we throw a big supper like this, Rose over at the café lets us use her plates and silverware. Problem is, we have to schedule it after she closes. And since Rose doesn’t use tablecloths, we have to make do with the paper kind.”
“Those days are over now, Edna. You’ll have your own things.” Connie Mac reached out to give Edna’s arm a friendly pat. “Could we go into the kitchen for a minute? I’d love take a peek at the banquet menu and see if there’s anything else you need from my boutique.”
Andrea waited until Connie Mac had gone into the kitchen with Edna and then she grabbed Hannah’s arm. “Did you hear that? A complete dinner service for two hundred! Isn’t Connie Mac the sweetest, most generous person you’ve ever met?”
Hannah grunted, settling for the most noncommittal reply she could make. She was no accountant, but she was willing to bet that everything Connie Mac had donated to the community center would qualify as a tax write-off.
“It’s just wonderful to have this time with Connie Mac,” Andrea gushed. “When we get back to the limo, I’m going to ask her about her recipes.”
“Recipes? Who are you trying to kid, Andrea? You never cook.”
“But Connie Mac doesn’t know that. And if I did cook, I’d follow her recipes. There was one last week that Bill would adore, meatloaf with three different sauces.”
“I saw that episode,” Hannah said, and then she clamped her mouth shut. Connie Mac’s recipe for a meatloaf dinner was totally ridiculous. There was no way any busy Minnesota housewife would have the time and energy to mix up a meatloaf, wrap it en croûte, prepare three different sauces, drizzle them artistically around the lip of an oversized china plate, and arrange slices of meatloaf in an overlapping design that was garnished with piping hot deep-fried parsley.
“Didn’t it look just wonderful?” Andrea insisted.
“Yes,” Hannah admitted truthfully. It had been a beautiful presentation, but she suspected that how food looked on television was a lot more important to Connie Mac than how it actually tasted.
“You seem stressed, Hannah,” Andrea said, looking concerned. “Are you worried about getting back to The Cookie Jar?”
No, I’m worried that my tongue will start bleeding from biting it so many times, Hannah thought, but she didn’t say it. Andrea had just presented her with an acceptable excuse for bowing out. “You’re right, Andrea. I still have a lot of baking to do. Could you finish the rest of the tour without me? All you have to do is show Connie Mac the Ezekiel Jordan house and escort her back out to the inn.”
“Of cour
se. No problem.” Andrea looked very pleased. “I’ll stop by later to tell you how it went.”
“Great. I’ll dash back to The Cookie Jar then. Make my excuses, will you?” Hannah shrugged into her parka and practically flew up the stairs, leaving Andrea to cope with the biggest sweet-talker and manipulator ever to set foot in Lake Eden.
“Try this,” Hannah said, handing Lisa one of the blueberry muffins she’d baked for the Winter Carnival judges.
“Gladly.” Lisa took a bite and a rapturous expression spread over her face. “It’s perfect. I love blueberry muffins.”
“So do I. I just wish I had fresh blueberries.”
“The frozen ones are almost as good.” Lisa took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. “My blueberry muffins taste like vanilla, unless you happen to bite into a blueberry. Yours taste like blueberries all the way through. How did you do that?”
“Blueberry pie filling. I mixed some in before I added the frozen blueberries. The dough turns a little purple, but I like the end result.”
“So do I. They’re absolutely delicious.” Lisa finished the last bite and picked up the plastic boxes that Hannah had filled with muffins. “Do you want me to put these in the cooler?”
“They don’t need to be refrigerated. Just stack them on a shelf in the pantry and I’ll deliver them tomorrow morning.”
Lisa opened the pantry door and stashed the muffins on a shelf. Then she came back and sat down again. “I still can’t believe that Connie Mac asked your mother to repaint the kitchen walls.”
“And I still can’t believe that Mother actually agreed to do it.” Hannah just shook her head. Andrea had reported in right after the final leg of Connie Mac’s tour, and she’d described everything that had happened at the Ezekiel Jordan House. Not only had Connie Mac asked Delores to paint the kitchen walls peach so that she could have her picture taken in the first mayor’s kitchen, she’d also managed to talk Norman into coming in late this afternoon for a special portrait sitting.
Lisa glanced up at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost six. They must be through with the pictures by now.”
