Part 7 (1/2)
”Is something the matter?” Mich.e.l.le asked.
”Why?”
”Because you're staring at me.”
”I'm just envious.”
”Of me?” Mich.e.l.le looked shocked.
”Yes. It's only a few minutes past four-thirty in the morning and you went to bed the same time I did. I'm still dragging around, barely awake, and you're dressed with your hair done. Not only that, you've already cooked breakfast, and you look stunning. If you weren't my baby sister and I didn't love you so much, I'd probably hate you.”
The day was busy, as all days at The Cookie Jar were, and Hannah was relieved when they locked the front door at five in the evening. No sooner had they thrown the lock when there was a knock at the back door, and Marge, Jack, Patsy, Herb, and Dillon came in. While they set up at the workstation in the kitchen, Hannah arranged the BLTs she'd made on a platter and carried them to the coffee shop. Then she called everyone in to eat, including Dillon who stretched out on the floor between Herb and Lisa and munched on the extra bacon that Hannah had made for him.
Once they'd finished eating, they went back to the kitchen to make turnovers. They'd worked steadily for what seemed like at least an hour when the phone rang. Lisa hurried to answer it and after listening to the caller for a moment, she motioned to Hannah. ”It's for you,” Lisa told her, holding out the receiver.
”Coming.” Hannah dried her hands on a towel and glanced at the clock. The apple turnover a.s.sembly line had been working longer than she'd thought, because it was almost seven in the evening.
”I'll be right back,” Hannah told Jack and Herb, who were operating the apple peeler to core, peel, and slice the apples, while she'd cut the apple slices into smaller pieces. Patsy was next in line, and she was mixing the apples with flour, sugar, and spices. When Patsy was through, she handed the bowl to her twin sister, Marge, who had rolled out puff pastry dough and cut it into squares. Marge spooned on the filling, folded the dough, sealed the edges with a fork, and then pa.s.sed the cookie sheet to Lisa, who was responsible for brus.h.i.+ng the tops with egg wash, cutting slits to let out the steam, and then ferrying the cookie sheets to the oven.
”Who is it?” Hannah asked Lisa, wondering who could be calling her at The Cookie Jar this late.
”I think it's Andrea,” Lisa told her, covering the mouthpiece with her hand. ”It's hard to tell, because whoever it is sounds really upset.”
Uh-oh! Hannah's mind shouted a warning. Bill took the job in Florida! But thinking that way was borrowing trouble, something she tried very hard not to do, and she forced herself to think positively as she took the phone.
”h.e.l.lo?” she said.
”Hannah! I...I tried you at home and you didn't answer, and I'm so glad I caught you at The Cookie Jar!”
Lisa was right. It was Andrea and she sounded on the verge of panic. ”We're staying late baking apple turnovers,” Hannah explained. ”Is there something wrong?”
”Yes! Tachyon offered Bill more incentives and I think he's beginning to waver, Tracey needs a homemade snack for her bus trip to Alexandria tomorrow, and Grandma McCann is at a baby shower for a friend's daughter so I can't ask her for help. I'm stressed, Hannah. I'm really stressed!”
”I know you're stressed. I can hear it in your voice. Try to calm down, Andrea. I'm sure we can work everything out.”
”Can you come over? Bill's working late, and Bethie's got a runny nose, and I can't find the listings I wrote up for the Journal yesterday, and...and I just can't cope anymore!”
That was unusual. Andrea could usually cope with anything...with the exception of cooking, of course. Andrea was the worst cook in all of Minnesota's eighty-seven counties.
”Will you come over, Hannah? Please?”
There was a desperate note in Andrea's voice that Hannah had never heard before. ”Just hold on. I'll be there just as soon as we get our apple turnover count for the night,” she promised.
”Go now,” Lisa said, and everyone else nodded in agreement. ”We can finish up here without you.”
”But that's not really fair. I could...”
”Go,” Marge said, and it was a command. ”There's nothing more important than family. We've got the turnovers under control.”
”I'll be there in a few minutes,” Hannah said to her sister. ”Tell me what kind of snack Tracey needs and I'll bring some ingredients with me.”
”Anything she can eat on the bus without making too much of a mess. And she has to bring enough for two. The kids are going to team up in pairs, eat one snack on the way there and eat the other on the way back home.”
Hannah thought fast. Sally made a snack at the Lake Eden Inn she called Imperial Cereal. She sent it along in the box lunches she packed when her guests went for walks around the lake. ”How about some of Sally's Imperial Cereal?” she asked.
”That would be perfect. But do you have time to run all the way out to the Lake Eden Inn?”
”I don't have to run all the way out there. Sally gave me the recipe and I've got it in my book. Hold on a second.” Hannah hurried to the book of recipes in sheet protectors that she kept in a three-ring notebook. She located Sally's snack and ran through the list of ingredients. ”What kind of cereal do you have in the house?”
”I've got Multigrain Cheerios. They're Bill's favorites. And I picked up a box of Rice Chex for Bethie. She likes the way they crunch.”
”Those will do just fine. How about frozen orange juice?”
”I've got some. I just made up a whole quart and it's in the refrigerator.”
”I need some that's still frozen. You have extra, don't you?”
”There's another two cans in the freezer. Is that enough?”
”More than enough. All I need is a quarter cup. How about brown sugar?”
”Yes, but it's got big lumps. You'll have to pick them out before you can use it.”
Hannah was surprised that Andrea knew about the lumps in her brown sugar. As far as she knew, Andrea didn't sprinkle it on anything and she certainly wouldn't have tried to use it in baking. ”Did Grandma McCann tell you it had lumps?” she asked, latching on to the most likely scenario.
”No, Bill did. He complained about it yesterday morning when he tried to sprinkle it on his instant oatmeal. He asked me to buy fresh at the store, but I haven't done my shopping yet.”
”Why don't you just keep mola.s.ses on hand? Then you could mix up your own brown sugar with white sugar and mola.s.ses.”
”But then I'd have to mix it up every time Bill wanted it. It's easier to just keep brown sugar in the house.”
”Whatever,” Hannah said, restraining the urge to laugh. ”How about your b.u.t.ter?”
”b.u.t.ter doesn't get lumps!”
”I know that. I was just asking if you had some.”
”We've got tons of b.u.t.ter. Grandma McCann won't let us buy anything else. She says b.u.t.ter is better for us than those artificial subst.i.tutes that don't taste like b.u.t.ter anyway.”
”She's probably right. How about slivered almonds?”
”No, I don't have any of those.”
”Then I'll bring them. Your oven works, doesn't it?”
”It did last night. Grandma McCann made a hamburger hotdish for dinner.”
”Good. When you hang up, put on the coffee pot. I'll see you in about fifteen minutes.”
”Hannah?”