When the Cookie Crumbles (10 page)

Olivia was delighted to see Sadie, whose infirmities often kept her housebound, sitting on her porch. Maddie looked more like her curvy, curly-haired aunt than her own mother, who had died, along with Maddie’s father, in an automobile accident over twenty years ago. Though not in the best of health, Aunt Sadie refused to give up what she referred to as her handwork. She could carry on a conversation and knit or embroider at the same time. Olivia often tripped when she tried to walk and talk at the same time.

As Olivia neared the house, she saw that Aunt Sadie was talking with someone hidden behind the high latticework decorating the side of the porch. Aunt Sadie laughed and paused in her knitting to flap her hand at her guest. Olivia could almost hear her say, “Oh, you’re such a joker,” which she said to Maddie on a regular basis. Maybe Maddie was taking a break from her baking? She rarely felt the need for a break, but perhaps…Olivia rounded a curve in the road that gave her a full view of the porch. Sadie’s amusing guest wasn’t Maddie. It was Paine Chatterley.

Aunt Sadie smiled and waved when she saw Olivia walk
toward the porch. Paine turned toward her with a smile, which disappeared as he recognized her. His animation dissolved as well. Intrigued, Olivia placed a porch chair between Sadie and Paine, forming a semicircle. Plunking Spunky on her lap, she studied Paine’s patrician profile. Though he appeared distant, removed, Olivia noticed his jaw tighten as if he were uncomfortable.

“Oh, you’ve brought your sweet little boy,” Aunt Sadie said, reaching out her arms. “May I hold him?” Spunky leaped to her lap, licked her face, and settled into a happy ball of fur. “I do miss having a pet,” Aunt Sadie said, “but I couldn’t take proper care of one.” She glanced toward the porch railing, where her walker stood within arm’s reach.

“Spunky and I have brought you something, Aunt Sadie.” Since Olivia had grown up calling her Aunt Sadie, that’s who she would always be. “Your embroidered aprons are stunning,” Olivia said as she reached into her sweater pocket and withdrew a substantial check. She handed it over. “They’ve been quite a hit with our customers. I’ve raised the price, but they keep flying off their hangers.”

Paine shifted in his seat. “I’d better toddle on home,” he said, rising to his feet.

“Oh, no you don’t, Paine Chatterley,” Aunt Sadie said. Spunky’s ears perked up at her gently commanding tone. “You’ll stay right here and meet Olivia Greyson. Livie’s like part of my family, so you just put that shyness in your hip pocket and join in the conversation. If you’re going to live in Chatterley Heights, you need to be friendly. Now sit.”

Paine sat. Olivia thought she saw a corner of his mouth twitch. Aunt Sadie had that effect on most people.

“Paine, I must tell you my exciting news. You never met my niece Maddie, but I brought her up from the age of ten,
and she is so dear to me. Well, she is engaged to be married. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Paine hesitated. It was only for a heartbeat, but Olivia noticed. She also noticed that Aunt Sadie left out the fact that Maddie hadn’t yet accepted Lucas’s proposal. If it were anyone else, Olivia would chalk it up to hopeful thinking, but not Aunt Sadie. Aunt Sadie was observant; she would have her reasons for assuming Maddie was inching closer to the alter.

“I hope she will be happy,” Paine said quietly.

Aunt Sadie studied Paine’s face, a worry wrinkle between her eyebrows.

“How are you and Mrs. Chatterley settling in?” Olivia asked. “Are you managing without your belongings? When do you expect them to arrive?”

Paine’s glance flicked toward Olivia for a moment. “Not for a week or two,” he said. “The house is tolerably well equipped, however, so we will be comfortable enough for now.” Paine had slipped back into the persona Olivia observed on Tuesday evening—distant and superior.

“Livie,” Aunt Sadie said, “Paine has brought me the most lovely gift, all the way from England.” Aunt Sadie reached toward her side table and picked up a teacup and saucer decorated with a gray fleur-de-lis motif. Olivia loved all antiques but wasn’t an expert on china. It was a Spode design, no longer available, she knew that much. The silver rim of the cup was worn in one area. Olivia imagined a right-handed lady holding the cup to her lips in precisely that spot.

The china rattled in Aunt Sadie’s hand. “My tremor is beginning to act up,” she said. “You’d better take it, Livie.”

Olivia accepted the cup and saucer with both hands and lowered it to her lap. Inside she saw a small metal cookie
cutter. She picked it up for a closer look. It was a teapot shape attached to a backing, made from several smaller pieces of tin soldered together. She turned the cutter over to look at the backing. By the porch light, Olivia could clearly see the outline of the teapot pressing through the tin from many years of hard use. This teapot cutter had passed through many generations of bakers before landing in a Spode teacup. And though she and Maddie had yet to check their inventory for missing items, Olivia knew the cutter had not come from The Gingerbread House.

“This is an extraordinary piece,” Olivia said to Paine. “Do you mind telling me where you found it?”

“A little shop in London,” Paine said without hesitation. “To be precise, that’s where Hermione said she found it. I know little about antiques, nor do I care, but when I saw the teapot, I was reminded of the time I spent here at this house. It was the happiest part of my childhood.” Paine’s thin lips curved into a faint smile as he added, “Whenever I stayed here for the afternoon, Aunt Sadie brewed a pot of tea and served it with iced cookies.”

“At first I used Lipton’s tea bags,” Aunt Sadie said, chuckling. “Paine informed me that his parents had brought him along on their last trip to England, and—I’ll never forget his words—he said, ‘The liquid in that pot is
not
tea.’ He was all of seven years old. I nearly fell over laughing.”

His smile widening, Paine said, “I was being quite serious.”

“Yes, lamb, I know. Your little nose was out of joint, that’s for sure. But I did take you seriously, once I caught my breath. Why, I called all over the place and finally found a little store in Baltimore that imported tea. I ordered some real British tea leaves from them, and I kept on ordering as long as you came to spend time with me, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“I doubt that store exists anymore,” Aunt Sadie said, shaking her head.

“Never mind.” Paine unfurled from his chair with smooth grace. “I shall bring you a packet of good tea when I visit next.” He bent over Aunt Sadie and dropped a light kiss on her forehead.

“I’m so glad you are back,” Aunt Sadie said.

“Olivia.” Paine gave her a quick bow. He was gone before Olivia could tell him to call her Livie.

“Be honest, Aunt Sadie. Was that the same man I met Tuesday evening in The Gingerbread House? The arrogant one who managed to insult everyone? The cranky fellow who ordered me and Spunky off his property the next morning?”

Aunt Sadie plucked the teapot cookie cutter from its teacup nest and smoothed her hand over the metal backing. “Paine was such a serious little boy. I loved him like a son, but I saw his flaws. Not that I blamed him; his parents treated him like a burden, as if he had chosen to be born solely to interrupt their lives. Whenever I saw Paine with his parents, he acted like a little adult. I made it my goal to help him be a little boy.”

“Which is why he loves you,” Olivia said.

“I’m afraid it wasn’t enough. I hoped he would learn how to be a friend. From what I’ve seen and heard, he has only his wife, and…well, I wonder if she was the best choice for him.”

“Or he for her,” Olivia said. “On the other hand, who am I to judge? I’m divorced.”

“And I never married,” Aunt Sadie said with a light laugh. “But that doesn’t seem to have kept me from analyzing the marriages of others. Normally, I find it a pleasant way to while away the hours. But not this time.”

As commanded by Mayor Karen Evanson, Olivia arrived at the Chatterley Mansion by seven thirty a.m. Friday morning to find a small crowd gathered across the street. Del and his deputy, Cody Furlow, stood several yards away from the group. Both wore their official uniforms. Not that Olivia had put much thought into her own costume. Following a last-minute inspiration, she had selected her favorite from among Sadie Briggs’s aprons and tied it over light brown linen pants and a pale peach sweater. She’d been pleased with how the colors blended with the darker peach and burgundy of the embroidered Chatterley Mansion.

“Love your costumes,” Olivia said to Del and Cody.

Cody glanced down at his deputy sheriff’s uniform, faint lines of puzzlement furrowing his young brow.

“Thank you,” Del said with a half smile. “I decided to play a sheriff.” Del looked Olivia up and down. “Is that the closest you could come to a serving wench costume?”

With a slight curtsy, Olivia said, “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“It’s a bit modern,” Del said, “though the colors look nice on you. Wait, isn’t that…?” He turned for a quick look across the street. “That’s the mansion on your apron, isn’t it? Who is that in the upper window?”

Cody had moved out of earshot, so Olivia said, “Maddie told me it’s supposed to be Paine Chatterley as a little boy. Her aunt Sadie used to babysit him. Only we’re thinking about having a contest to guess who it is, so if you tell, I’ll have to kill you.”

“Fair enough,” Del said.

A van pulled up to the curb and four equipment-laden strangers emerged. Olivia assumed they represented some of the weekly newspapers from small towns in the area. So far, they were the only press to arrive. Karen would be furious if the DC and Baltimore papers didn’t bother to send anyone.

Olivia noticed that all the celebration committee members were present, though only one, Mr. Willard, had taken seriously Karen’s order to arrive in costume. A barrister’s cloak hung from Mr. Willard’s gaunt shoulders, and a white wig covered his sparse hair. Olivia assumed Bertha had made the outfit for him. A card-carrying Daughter of the American Revolution might object to the British style of the costume, but it was probably the only pattern Bertha could find at short notice.

The mayor herself wore a tailored, pale gray suit and rose blouse. The jacket flared gently at Karen’s hips to draw subtle attention to the perfection of her figure. Only the habitual sternness of her expression kept Karen from being a beautiful woman. As she explained her rules to the visiting small-town reporters, Karen reminded Olivia of
her first-grade teacher, to whom all children were uncivilized monsters until proven otherwise.

Quill Latimer stood apart from the others, dressed in full academic regalia with cloak, PhD hood, and a mortarboard on his head. An odd choice of costume. Olivia remembered Paine Chatterley’s comment about Quill’s “well-deserved position” in life. Quill taught at a nearby community college. Olivia knew he had a PhD in history, but she didn’t remember hearing where he’d attended graduate school. If he had graduated from a first-rate university, Quill, being Quill, would surely have told everyone. Often.

Olivia noticed Binnie Sloan was now missing from the group. Olivia remembered having seen her just moments ago, mixing with the other editors of weeklies. Predictably, Binnie had ignored Karen’s order to appear in costume. She’d worn her usual attire: men’s cargo pants, a flannel shirt, and a man’s jacket. All three items provided numerous pockets for Binnie’s array of small cameras, recorders, notebooks, and pens. Olivia was sure Binnie’s jacket had been red and black plaid, her pants and shirt beige. She peeked around the collection of reporters to get a view of the street and the mansion grounds. A squarish red-black-beige figure was passing the Chatterleys’ wraparound porch, heading toward the back of the house.

Olivia touched Del’s arm to get his attention. “Binnie’s going in for a closer look,” she said in a low voice, nodding toward the mansion. “She’s at the wraparound porch.”

Del muttered something curselike and took off at a run, with Cody close behind. Binnie had already disappeared behind the mansion. As Del and Cody raced across the street, Olivia caught Karen glaring in her direction. Olivia shrugged her shoulders, denying all responsibility for this glitch in Karen’s perfect plan.

As two more vans pulled to the curb, Karen’s stern expression melted into delight. She waved an enthusiastic welcome and strode toward the first van. Olivia was impressed by the mayor’s speed, given she was wearing spike heels and walking through grass.

Young, bored-looking crews emerged from the vans bearing microphones, cameras, and other equipment Olivia couldn’t name. She assumed they were junior staff representing major papers in DC or Baltimore, or both. They ignored Karen as she chattered at them. Olivia sympathized with their lack of enthusiasm. She longed to be back in The Gingerbread House sorting through that package of vintage cookie cutters she was expecting to arrive any minute or helping customers find the perfect gel icing color.

As Olivia watched, Del and Cody rounded the mansion porch, holding Binnie Sloan firmly between them. Binnie was no lightweight, but her feet barely touched the ground. As they drew closer, Olivia could see Del’s expression, tight and angry. His young deputy grew redder in the face with each step. At six foot three, Cody was probably doing much of the carrying. Binnie dragged her toes in the grass and grinned.