Page 14

T he next morning, Doreen had just gotten up and had her shower and got dressed, when Mack called her.

“Enjoyed dinner last night.”

“Me too. You are such a good cook.”

Mack laughed. “Are you ready for the party?”

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know that I’m ready for all that attention. And I still don’t have any live mistletoe for the party. Nan will be disappointed. I don’t think Nan feels as if she’s ready either, and she’s really put her heart and soul into this thing. I just wish I knew why she cared so much about this whole charade.”

“I would guess, at the heart of it is,… she cares about you an awful lot.”

“I know. I know,” she muttered. “I’m just anxious about being the center of attention at this party. But because she cares, I’ll be there, doing everything I can to make it easier on her. But she won’t explain why she’s so stressed out, and that bothers me.”

“Really?” He laughed. “With everything else going on in this world, that ’s what bothers you?”

“I just get the feeling that she’s up to something.”

“And remember what you told me last night?”

“What?” she asked.

“It’s Christmas, and you’re not allowed to ask questions. Secrets and all. I’ve been waiting for a chance to say that back at you,” he said, still chuckling.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, frowning at her phone. “This doesn’t feel like the same thing.”

“Let it go, and, if she wants to tell you what she’s up in arms about, she will.”

“That’s exactly what she would tell me. You are getting to know Nan very well.”

“Yep. I try.”

“I was hoping we could get this party over and done with, and then maybe she wouldn’t feel quite so stressed.”

“I’m sure that’s true for her as well,” he noted.

Still, she caught an odd note in his tone. “You guys better not be conniving something together.”

He started to laugh. “ Conniving ?”

“Whatever that word is when people get together and create things that upset other people.”

He sighed. “I have no idea what’s in your mind. Nan’s actions could mean all kinds of things. What about my brother? Did he get a hold of you?”

She blinked at the sudden turn of conversation. “I’ve talked to him multiple times. Every time I hear his voice, I cringe.”

“Why?” Mack asked. “He’s solving all kinds of problems for you, isn’t he?”

“Sure. And then we have more stuff to do to tie up Mathew’s estate.”

By the time he ended the call, her mind was already working on what she would do next with Brandon’s cold case. She also needed to go help Nan this afternoon with whatever was left on her to-do list.

The party was only one day away, and she was still nervous about it, uncertain how she was supposed to act at these things. At least she had a Christmas gift for Mack, but they would exchange gifts privately. Wouldn’t they? She would ask him the next time they talked. At least his gift was taken care of.

When Nick called soon afterward, this time it was a happy message, as he had found out that her great-great-grandmother’s necklace was among Mathew’s estate. So Doreen asked to have that sent to her, so that she would have that as a Christmas surprise for Nan.

Did she need to buy gifts for other people? With Richie, Doreen could get some of those special chocolates he really liked but never seemed to get enough of. She immediately headed out to pick up that and various items for other people, like Wendy. By the time Doreen was done, she had made quite a few purchases. However, back at home again, she groaned. She didn’t have paper to wrap anything with.

Nan called around that time, and Doreen smiled. “Hey, Nan. I think I’ve managed to buy Christmas gifts, but I don’t have any wrapping paper. I didn’t even think of that when I was out shopping.”

“You can certainly come down here and use mine,” Nan offered.

“I probably have too many for that to make sense. I’ll go back out and grab some.”

“You can always stop by here afterward,” Nan added. “It would be nice to see you.”

A wistfulness filled her tone that Doreen wasn’t used to hearing. “I planned to come help with whatever is still on your party to-do list. I’ll pick up wrapping paper on the way. I wonder if Wendy has any.”

Nan asked, “Wendy? Consignment store, Wendy?”

“Yeah, she sells all kinds of interesting things there.”

“I see.” Then Nan added in a very gentle tone, “You do know you have money now, right?”

“Meaning?”

“I just don’t want you to be deliberately not spending money or pinching pennies because you still have that I don’t have money mentality.”

“Nan, it’s not as if I really have money yet,” she clarified. “I know that some money is coming, and I know I’ve got a bunch more coming my way, but I haven’t figured out what I’m supposed to do with it yet,” she shared carefully. “So I don’t want to spend it foolishly, not until I know I have a nest egg set aside for the rest of my life and yours.”

“Right,” Nan muttered.

Doreen noted an odd tone in Nan’s voice. “You sound as if I’ve disappointed you.”

“Never, child, never,” she replied warmly. “If anything, you are very true to form. Anyway, go get your wrapping paper, and, if you want, you can come help me wrap my gifts, then do some party stuff afterward. I’ll be right here.”

“Sure, I can do that, but,… if you want your gifts to look very good, you might need to do it yourself.”

Nan burst into peals of laughter. “It’s just gifts for friends and family.”

“I know, but, Nan, I don’t think I’ve ever wrapped a gift before.”

“Oh, good Lord,” she said in astonishment. “Get your wrapping paper and get yourself down here. We’ll have to fix that right away.”

Wincing at that, Doreen quickly loaded up the animals, took them down to the corner store, which was more of a housewares store, not quite a dollar store but similar—maybe a couple-of-dollars store, if there was such a thing. By the time she had wrapping paper in hand, pretty Christmassy stuff, she was starting to feel a whole lot better.

She headed down to Nan’s, and she walked inside her grandmother’s apartment, Nan giving her and her animals some hugs. Then she took one look at the paper and smiled in delight.

“Oh, good choice. I was afraid you would come back with happy birthday paper.”

Doreen frowned at her grandmother. “Am I that bad?”

Nan winced, “Sometimes,… yes.”

“Oh, good Lord,” Doreen muttered. “In that case I won’t give you any of these.” With that threat, she dangled her second attempt at shortbreads in front of her grandmother.

Nan looked at them and nodded. “How many times have you tried to make them so far?”

“Twice.”

“ Hmm .”

“Why? Are you thinking they’re not worth sharing yet?” she asked warily.

“In your case you might need a third or fourth time.” Doreen glared at her, but Nan cheerfully swiped the bag from her hand and laughed. “No need to be fussy. We’ll get Richie to try them. He eats anything.”

“They can’t be that bad,” she wailed. “I was thinking I would give Mack some cookies for Christmas.”

“Sure, but you should buy them.”

At that, Doreen stopped to glare at Nan, only to find her chortling with laughter at having delivered such a comeuppance. “You’ll make me feel as if I can’t cook anything.”

“I won’t say you can, and I certainly won’t say you can’t because, of course,… it is a learned thing. So, as long as you keep practicing, you’ll probably end up doing just fine.”

“It’s the probably that gets me every time you open your mouth.”

“It ends up getting me a little bit sometimes too,” Nan admitted, with a smile. “Anyway, let’s not fight over your cookies. I’m sure they’re fine.”

Doreen looked at the bag dolefully, but then they started wrapping gifts. It didn’t take her long to get the hang of it. Thankfully her animals were all napping and on their best behavior. She worked through the bulk of her own gifts that she had brought, after leaving the ones for Nan and Mack at home. She was just about done when Richie popped his head through the open door.

He frowned at her. “Oh, I thought I smelled cookies.”

Nan laughed. “You did, indeed. I also texted you that there were cookies.”

He rolled his eyes. “I was trying to be discreet. So where are they?” he asked, looking around. “Your grandmother doesn’t think you can make anything decent, so I’m here to taste them.’

“ Great ,” Doreen muttered under her breath, glaring at their grinning faces. “You two don’t do very much for my self-confidence.”

“No,” he agreed, “but then you’re not doing a whole lot for ours either.” With a delightful expression on his face, he took a big bite. He tilted his head to one side and then the other, finally nodding. “They’re not bad, Doreen.”

“But they’re not good,” she muttered, her shoulders falling in defeat.

“It’s not that,” he countered, “not at all. I would say,… you need a light hand with shortbread. You know that, right? They can get really tough if you don’t.”

“How does a cookie get tough?” she asked, staring at the déjà vu moment, since Mack had given her the same review.

“You overkneaded it. Shortbreads are delicate.”

“Delicate,” she repeated. She stared at him, then at her grandmother. “You really did bring him over to check and see if they were edible, didn’t you?”

Nan picked up one, took a bite, considered it, and agreed, “You just need to learn to handle it lighter.”

“Lighter? I barely touched them.”

“Did you use my recipe?” Nan asked.

“No, I didn’t use your recipe. I used one off the internet.”

“Then I would say that’s also part of the problem,” Nan noted. “I have the most melt-in-your-mouth recipe ever.”

“ Sure ,” Doreen uttered, followed by a heavy sigh.

“I mean it,” Nan declared.

“Fine,” Doreen conceded. “I’ll look for it when I get home.”

Nan shook her head, whipped out her phone, and quickly emailed her the recipe. “Try using that, definitely before you give them to Mack.”

“They’re that bad?” she asked, her shoulders sagging again.

“No, not at all,” Richie said. “We just want to see more samples before you feed it to your man.” And, with a grin, Richie snagged up yet another one and scarfed it down.

By now Doreen wasn’t sure if any of these reviews were for real or not. “ Fine ,” she muttered, as she looked at them. “I’ll try again.”

“Good. I’m always here for you,” Richie vowed, a hand over his heart. “Honestly, we’ll make sure that you get these cookies right by the time you’re done.”

“ Right .” She glared at him. “It’ll probably take me six batches.”

“Oh, it could,” he agreed, nodding vigorously. “It absolutely could. You should probably go home and get started.”

She sighed, not sure if he was joking again or whether she was the butt of a serious joke. Still, she knew something was definitely amiss, and she should go home and work on her baking skills. “Fine. I did buy enough ingredients to try another batch.”

“Good,” Nan said, patting her on the shoulder. “Time for you to leave then.”

Doreen eyed her, surprised. “I thought you wanted help with the party preparations.”

“Oh, no, child. They’re all done now. The party is the day after tomorrow.” Then she faced her, frowning, and added, “Do you have something special to wear?”

Her jaw dropped. “You mean I have to dress up too?”

“Of course you do.” Nan’s tone suggested how naive she thought her granddaughter was. “It’s a Christmas party, child.”

“Right,” Doreen said dolefully. “In that case, I’m not sure.”

“Find something nice to wear. That’s your job for the next twenty-four hours,” Nan ordered.

“And bake cookies,” Richie reminded her in a hopeful tone.

“ Fine , play dress-up and bake cookies. Just what I need. On that note,” she said, standing now, “I’ll take my leave and go home.”

“Good idea,” Richie agreed, chortling.

She looked at him and glared. “You’re having way-too-much fun over this.”

“I am, indeed,” he confirmed, with a smile. “Sometimes that’s just what it’s all about, enjoying life and having fun.”

“If you say so,” Doreen muttered. “It feels as if it’s not always a whole lot of fun on my side.”

“But it will be,” Richie stated, with a wave of his hand. “It absolutely will. You just have yet to get there.” And, on that note, he took off for his apartment.

Doreen looked over at Nan. “Really? You’re sure the cookies are that bad?”

“They’re not that bad, child, but, in a world where shortbread should melt in your mouth and should be absolutely delicious,” she explained, “this batch would probably be about a six or seven out of ten.”

“Oh,… okay, got it.”

“Don’t be hurt. It’s for your own good. Anyone who can make a serious batch of shortbread can have any man she wants.”

“Goodness.” She turned to face her grandmother. “Why on earth would I care?”

Her grandmother shook her head. “Child, you are a challenge sometimes.”

“I know you want to get me married off,” Doreen noted, “but I’m really, really enjoying being single.”

“I know that,” Nan replied, “but you’re also coming at it from a much younger space than I am.”

“Maybe, and maybe that’s a good space to be coming from,” she pointed out. “It’s not as if you were married for long and chose to never remarry, even though I know you were proposed to more than once.”

“No, I never remarried,” she confirmed, “but neither was I alone all the time either.”

Not a whole lot Doreen could say about that. Besides, when it came to arguments with Nan, Doreen always lost anyway. She turned around to see where Goliath was, only to find him on the table, knocking cookies onto the floor, where Mugs scarfed them up, two at a time. “Wait, wait, wait,” she cried out.

Goliath sat down, reached for the last cookie with his paw, waited until she almost got there, and knocked it onto the floor. Mugs didn’t wait long for anything and had it in his mouth, and it was gone instantly.

She turned and glared at Nan, who was laughing uproariously, holding her sides. “I’m glad you think it’s so funny.”

“Of course it is. It’s absolutely awesome,” Nan crowed. “Think of it. Mugs seems to love your baking.”

Her defeat must have shown because her grandmother came over and hugged her. “We’re doing this for your benefit, child.”

“Sure, you are,” Doreen said, topped off with an eye roll. “Somehow it doesn’t feel as if this is for my benefit. This feels very much like it’s for your entertainment.”

“Of course not.” Nan chuckled. “We love you.”

“Right.” And on that note she headed out to her car, with her animals, Mugs waddling now, a little heavier than when he arrived. She glared down at him. “That is not what was supposed to happen to those cookies,” she muttered. He looked up at her with the most innocent of looks and woofed several times. “Right, as if you care.”

He woofed again, and she groaned because he didn’t care. It was a cookie after all. And, for that matter, Mack probably wouldn’t have cared either. But now she felt as if she had to go home and do better. Yet, how does one do better? That didn’t make a whole lot of sense to her. As far as she was concerned, she really had tried.

“Lighter,” she repeated. “It has to be lighter.” But what she probably really needed to do was check Nan’s recipe. At least if she used that one, and she showed them how it could or could not turn out, then maybe it would pass their inspection quite nicely. She wasn’t even sure what that meant, but she was all about giving it one more try.

“But only one more time,” she stated. Mugs looked at her and woofed. “No, not for you,” she declared. “You’ve had your shot. You’ve had enough for everyone.”

He woofed several more times, and she shook her head, “I know more of your tricks now. Not happening, buddy.”