Be Sweet (3 page)

“Her name is Candy? She sounds
sweet
.”

Janni groans. “Blake, on the other hand, says he doesn't want to deprive the women of America by settling down with one girl. Can you imagine?” She sighs. “I doubt that he's cracked open a textbook all year.”

“Hard to believe those kids are already in college. Will they be here at all to help with the syrup?”

“Only during spring break. You'll meet Ethan's girlfriend then. She's a doll.” Janni rises and takes her empty glass and dish over to the sink.

“Sounds like you'll be joining the ranks of grandparenting before you know it.”

“Let's get them married first, shall we?” she calls over her shoulder as she rinses her dish and glass with water, then places them in the dish-washer. “I'd sure love a little one around to spoil and then send home.” She walks back to the table and reaches for my empty plate.

“You touch that, and I'll have to hurt you,” I say, reaching for another sliver off the round cookie.

Surprise lights her eyes, and she blinks.

“Janni, don't ever come between a woman and her cookies,” a male voice says behind me.

Swiveling around in my chair, I see Janni's husband, Daniel, step through the back door. He's dressed in brown bib overalls, a brown and white plaid shirt, and thick, manly boots. We're talking serious boots here. With the size of his feet, I'm thinking he could stamp out an entire generation of ants.

Twinkling blue eyes and brown hair with a smidgen of gray peek from beneath his white baseball cap, while a graying goatee frames a smile that says life is good.

“The man is smarter than he looks,” I say, jumping from my chair. “How are you doing?”

Daniel laughs and whisks me into a bear hug that makes my feet leave the floor. My nose tickles from his generic version of Polo. The man never changes.

“I'm good. How's my big sister?”

“Hey, be careful about that ‘big' stuff, will ya?” I tease. “I'm feeling a tad sensitive.”

“Aw, I've picked up bigger twigs than you.”

“Have I mentioned you're my favorite brother-in-law? 'Course, I don't have any others, but still.”

With a hearty laugh he puts me down and turns to Janni. “How's the love of my life?” He reaches down and gives her a kiss, making my heart squeeze. My sister may not have nice carpet, but she's rich in other ways.

I straighten my Liz Claiborne blouse that Daniel wrinkled with the hug.

“What are you doing home so soon?” Janni asks.

“Not many customers today,” he says, pulling up a chair and grab-bing several cookies. I scoot the pizza cookie from his direct view. It might hurt Janni's feelings if he doesn't eat her cookies, after all. I'll just take it back to my room when no one is looking.

Janni pours a glass of cold milk and places it in front of him. A shadow flickers in her eyes. “Business sure has been slow lately,” she says, searching his face.

“It will give me a chance to fix the doorknob on the bathroom upstairs.” He tosses her a wink, then glances around. “Hey, you didn't throw away the paper, did you? There are some good coupons in there.”

Janni rolls her eyes. “No. It's on your chair in the living room.”

He smiles and pops the last of the cookie into his mouth.

Say what you will about Daniel, he will never waste a penny. Ever. On anything. He's a coupon clipper from the word
go
. He can outclip any woman in the county. Before the ink is dried on the page, he's snipped it, stuffed it in his pocket, made a beeline for the store, and handed it to the cashier. He's the only person I know who can buy a hundred dollars' worth of groceries for a buck and a half.

“How are things at Ort Hardware anyway?” I ask, referring to their store.

He chews a minute. “Maybe Janni's already told you there's a new hardware store in town, so things are a little slow right now since we're sharing the customers. It's newly opened, though, so that may die down some. You know how it is in business.”

I nod.

“So what's been going on with you, Zip?” Daniel asks, referring to the nickname of Zipper that my dad gave me back when I was sixteen and thin, which, by the way, no longer applies. Funny how I could eat anything I wanted until about a year ago. Now suddenly the pounds are starting to stack up.

“Oh, same old, same old,” I say, polishing off my last bite of cookie in the nick of time, what with that whole “Zip” thing.

“Oh, Janni, did I tell you Tappery General has chocolate chips on sale, two bags for the price of one?” Daniel empties his glass and swipes off his milk mustache with the back of his arm. He's a true manly man—well, except for that coupon thing.

“Okay, I'll pick some up.”

“I have a coupon for it that I'll give you.” He turns to me again. “So you're back for your syrup, huh?” He grabs two more cookies, and I'm seeing why Janni makes their own food. He'd cost them a fortune at the bakery.

Before I can say anything, Janni jumps in. “It's a drug for her, you know. She's addicted to maple sugar.” She picks up the carafe for the coffeemaker and fills it with water. “I need some coffee. Either of you want any?”

“Talk about
my
addictions.”

She blinks, looks at the carafe in her hand, and laughs. “I guess we're even.” She plugs in the pot. “But at least my coffee doesn't cost four bucks a cup, and it's every bit as good.”

My sister lives in her own reality.

Daniel chuckles, stretches out his legs in front of him, and gives in to an enormous yawn. “I'll take a cup.”

“Yeah, I'm back for the syrup, but also to help Janni organize Mom and Dad's fiftieth anniversary celebration.”

Daniel rubs his goatee. “Oh, that's right. That's just around the corner.”

“It will be here before we know it,” Janni says, grabbing cups from the cabinet.

“Good thing you women are in charge,” he says, reaching for another cookie.

“I can hardly wait to show you what I've gotten done on the scrap-book.” Janni places a coffee tray, complete with cream, sugar, cups, and saucers, in the middle of the table.

“Yeah, she's sure worked hard on that. I've hardly seen her.” Daniel winks at Janni.

She grunts. “You haven't seen me because your eyes have been glued to either the TV or the coupon page of the paper.”

He scratches his jawline. “Just looking out for our retirement.”

“Daniel, with the way you save money, you could have retired when you were five.” Janni's face doesn't flinch.

My jaw goes slack.

“Just the same, you'll thank me one day.”

She ignores him. “As for the scrapbook—”

“Could he really have retired at five?”

“That's what his mother told me.”

“Hey, lemonade stands are big business,” Daniel cuts in.

“Could I interest you in a seaside vacation home?”

“As I was saying,” Janni draws out the words as though we're hard of hearing, and we need to read her lips. “You can help me with the scrap-book. That way we'll get finished sooner.”

I lean my chin into the palm of my hand. “Retired at five, really? Then what's with the carpet in the living room?” Well, that came out before I could stop it.

Janni puts her hands on her hips and glares at Daniel.

He holds his hands up. “I know, I know. We're going to replace it.” He turns to me and in a staged whisper says, “Thanks a lot, sis.”

“Sorry. But what's the use of having money if you never spend it? A woman needs to feel good about her home.”

Janni gives a curt nod. “Just what I've been telling him.”

“Aw, Janni, you know I'm just waiting to see how business goes.”

She nods and says nothing. To my way of thinking, he's carrying that frugal thing way too far.

“Anyway, back to the scrapbooking—”

“Keep in mind that I'm craft challenged. I've never been able to do a thing with Cheerios besides eat them,” I remind her.

“You sell millions of dollars' worth of real estate every year, but you can't put together a scrap page? It's mind-boggling, I tell you.” Janni shakes her head. “Don't worry about it, though. I'll teach you.”

“Thanks, but I have enough to do already.”

“Such as?”

“For one thing, I rented the Carpenter Center—”

Janni gasps. “That place is expensive. I've already reserved the church fellowship center.”

“It's only money, Janni,” I say, sending Daniel into a coughing fit.

“Then I thought we could get Yvonne's Catering to serve the food. I've checked all over town, and they seem to offer the best menu for the money. I have a notebook with sample menus, price quotes, and brochures on everything I've checked into.” I've silenced her with my wealth of knowledge, no doubt.

“What kind of food?” Janni asks when she finds her voice. “I was going to prepare something simple.” Instead of being impressed with my research, she sounds miffed.

“You? Whatever for? It doesn't have to be that much work. Let me get my notebook.” That's sure to wow her. I run upstairs to my room, grab the black three-ring binder, and run back downstairs. “Let's see,” I flip through the pages. “They have hors d'oeuvres of basil risotto cake with sun-dried tomato—”

Janni scrunches her nose.

“They also have chicken and scallion skewers with orange sesame soy glaze. They have two more choices of prosciutto, garlic and artichoke puff, and potato apple pancake with smoked salmon and dill crème fraiche.” I look up at Janni whose mouth is dangling.

“People actually eat that stuff?” she asks.

I grin and nod. “Isn't it fun?” I look back at the menu. “Then we could offer a sit-down dinner. We'll need to decide which main course we want to go with, though. They have roast beef, roasted Cornish hen, and artichoke cannelloni with mozzarella, lemon béchamel, and fresh thyme—”

“Wait. I wanted this to be a luncheon affair to give everyone more time to visit. Folks that age don't want to be out late—especially if they're driving any distance at all.”

“I see your point, Janni, but that's exactly what everyone else does for these things. We want this celebration to be different. A sit-down dinner is elegant.”

“I've never heard of half those things on the menu!” Janni's voice is high-pitched and squeaky. “Mom and Dad are picky eaters. Did you know that?”

“They'll be too excited to eat, anyway.”

Janni takes a long, deep breath and finally releases it. “We don't need all this expense, Char. It doesn't have to be a citywide bash.”

“They've been married fifty years. No small feat in today's world. The Carpenter Center will see to it that tables are covered with ivory linens. They'll provide the eggshell china trimmed in gold—oh, the decorations will be in gold, of course, in keeping with the traditional fiftieth anniversary. For table centerpieces, I was thinking something along the lines of table mirrors with gold candle holders and cream-colored candles. We'll give them the celebration they deserve. Don't be so cheap.”

Janni gasps. The look on her face says she wants to hurt me. “Is this about you salving your guilt for rarely coming home?”

“What?” It's a good thing she's at the opposite end of the table, or I might yank her hair out. “That's a mean thing to say, Janni.”

“Well, Miss All That, just because I'm more practical doesn't mean I care any less for our parents.”

“You're not practical. You're cheap.”

“Hey, I forgot to tell you, Janni. Guess who I ran into down at the hardware store?” Daniel interrupts, obviously sensing the tension in the air.

“Who?” I play along, but this anniversary shindig discussion isn't over by a long shot.

“Russ Benson.”

Janni tries to pout, but her eyes light up at the mention of the name. “You remember him. He used to have a big crush on you in high school,” Janni says, as though she can't imagine why.

“The name sounds familiar, but I can't place him.”

“He was in your math class. I think he might have helped you once or twice with geometry.”

A fuzzy image comes to mind. “Hmm, a tall, skinny kid who smiled a lot?”

“That's the one.”

“Obviously, he wasn't the greatest teacher. I flunked.”

“Probably because he was more interested in you than teaching.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“He was kind of long and lanky back then. But let me tell you, he's changed.”

“Hey, watch yourself,” Daniel warns.

Janni smiles, slowly releasing her bad energy—whatever that means. I read that somewhere, and it seems to fit her right about now. “Oh, you know no one comes close to you, Danny.” She walks over and gives him a shoulder rub.

“Short and bald?”

Janni gives me a puzzled look.

“You said he was long and lanky and that he's changed. Good grief, do I have to explain everything?”

Janni just glares. “Anyway . . . Russ was the guy with great teeth—like Donny Osmond. I'll bet he flosses a hundred times a day,” she says, suddenly all dreamylike. Over flossing.

Daniel laughs. “Could be because his dad's a dentist.” Janni's intense massage causes his words to vibrate.

“He was a sweet guy, if I remember right,” I say.

“Yes, he was.” Janni's no doubt getting all excited that my brain cells are working for me.

“You girls are talking like he's dead or something,” Daniel says.

“So, is he short and bald?” Now I'm dying to know.

Janni leans toward me, her fingers still working their magic on Daniel's shoulders. “Trust me, he's not short, nor is he bald.” She feigns a whisper, but I think Daniel's onto her.