Chapter Twenty
Five days later and the weather forecast hadn’t changed. It only became more distressing. The state had a big bull’s-eye on it and a blizzard was indeed heading for Jefferson.
“You love a brisk walk, don’t you?” Hope chuckled as she kept up with Bigelow. He was focused on his walk and greeting the few people who passed them on Main Street. Each one of them smiled at Hope and then acknowledged Bigelow, and he ate up the attention. Because she had him with her, a stop into The Coffee Clique wasn’t in the cards. While the owners may have overlooked his species, she knew it was against health regulations, and it only took one disgruntled customer to cause all sorts of problems. It was for the best, really. She didn’t need a cinnamon bun. Her deal with Mama Mia Pasta meant she had to develop six recipes using their various pastas. Later in the day, she’d be making a Triple Cheese Lasagna for dinner, and there were plenty of calories in even the smallest serving.
“Good morning, Hope!” Angela came to a halt on her way up the shoveled walkway to the library’s main entrance. She bent over to pat Bigelow on the head. “He looks so dapper in his red plaid jacket. I can’t believe another blizzard is coming our way. Is this winter ever going to end?”
Hope shared the sentiment. Snowflakes had begun falling as Hope and Bigelow set out on their walk. They were both bundled up in their coats, so she continued with their planned outing.
The blizzard meant Ethan couldn’t get away for their trip to Vermont. To say she was disappointed would be a major understatement. She’d planned her wardrobe, borrowing ski clothes from Claire, and looked forward to drinking hot cocoa by the lodge’s fireplace. She was looking forward not only to a long weekend of being alone with Ethan, but also to a few days of being disconnected from the rest of the world. No phone, no social media, no comments, no murderers.
It’d been almost a week since she was held at knife-point by Gail in the library. Hope glanced at the stately brick building. So many wonderful things had happened in there over her lifetime; she’d discovered new authors, faraway places, and her love for reading. And she’d almost been killed in there too.
“I’m still getting so much positive feedback on the blogging class. Is there any chance you’re open to doing another one?” Angela looked hopeful.
Hope’s immediate reply was going to be a firm “no.” But she wasn’t sure if the answer was coming from the fact of nearly being killed by a student or if she wanted to pursue creating an online course. The downside to producing the course would be the financial investment and the time it would take creating all the modules. The upside was that once she created the course, she wouldn’t have to go out to the library or somewhere else to teach the course. That meant more time for herself and a nice passive income stream. Two things bloggers loved.
“I’ll think about it. We’d better get going back home before the snow starts coming down harder.” Hope tugged on Bigelow’s leash, and Angela said her goodbyes to both of them. Hope picked up her pace and encouraged her pup to do the same. The snowflakes were bigger and coming down more fiercely. It was definitely a day to hunker down inside and cook.
When Hope and Bigelow returned home, she got to work on the lasagna. By the time Claire and the kids arrived, the main dish was in the oven cooking and the worse of the storm hadn’t arrived yet. That gave Logan and Hannah time to play outside until supper was ready.
Hope pulled the mudroom door closed behind her as she stepped outside. She folded her arms across her chest and rubbed her arms. She should have layered up before venturing outside to get the kids. Hannah screamed and ducked when her brother threw a round of snowballs at her. Logan laughed loudly as he kept the snowballs flying.
She smiled at the sight of them fully engaged in a good, old-fashioned snowball fight. Maretta had backed down from her proposal to ban the activity, and Hope was certain kids across Jefferson were celebrating their victory today. Logan had gotten over a hundred signatures on his petition, which he’d walked into Town Hall and presented to Maretta. Hope wished she could have been there for the moment; according to Claire, it was a priceless moment. Maretta’s demeanor was respectful, and she even thanked Logan for his activism. What Hope would have given to be a fly on the wall when Maretta returned to her office.
With all the publicity on the arrests of Gail and Ernie, Maretta had more important matters to tend to than pursuing a ban on snowball throwing. Good grief, what had she been thinking?
“Hey, you two! Dinner is almost ready!” She’d taken the three-cheese lasagna out of the oven and set it on a trivet to rest, while Claire tossed a salad and sliced the freshly baked loaf of bread Hope had made.
The kids stopped playing and brushed off the snow from their jackets as Drew drove into the driveway. He’d borrowed Hope’s Explorer to pick up Sally and Jane, who were coming for an early supper before the roads were inevitably closed. The car doors opened, and the Merrifield sisters-in-laws stepped out, both wearing snow boots and their warmest coats. Drew dashed around the vehicle and guided them toward the house.
The driveway and path had been cleared by Hope’s new plow guy, Iva’s brother. With more than a foot of snow forecast, he’d definitely be back several more times before tomorrow morning.
“Isn’t it lovely? The snow on the tree branches and endless stretches of snow-covered fields.” Jane passed Hope and entered the house with Sally behind her.
“She wasn’t the one trudging out to feed our rooster this morning,” Sally quipped as she entered the house.
Hope pressed her lips together. She felt Sally’s pain about feeding the flock. She had ventured out in the dark, cold morning to feed her own chickens.
Helga griped as usual, while Poppy had flown up onto the workbench, where Hope had mixed together the supplements for their water. Poppy stayed long enough for Hope to stroke her feathers. She was pretty sure Poppy would enjoy living inside the house. Though Princess would have a big problem with that.
“The roads are clear for now.” Drew held the door open for the kids and Hope. “Good thing we’re eating early. Who knows what it’ll be like later?”
Hope and Claire set out the food on the table. Hope’s phone rang, and it was Ethan.
“Hey, are you coming? I made a three-cheese lasagna,” she said, hoping to tempt him.
“Sorry, I can’t. Look, about our weekend . . .”
“Don’t worry about it. They said we could reschedule because of the weather. We’ll just go another weekend.” She sighed, leaning against the refrigerator.
“Are you sure?”
“I am. Drew will be driving Sally and Jane home, so I’ll have him drop off some lasagna for you.”
“I heard my name. What am I doing?” Drew asked from the table.
“It’s amazing how his hearing can be so good at some times, while at others, not so much.” Hope laughed. “Call me later.”
“Will do. Love you.”
“Love you too.” She disconnected the call.
“Aww,” the whole table said in unison.
“Ha ha. Very funny.” Hope walked to the table and sat. She wanted to be irritated at them for eavesdropping, but their silly grins had her laughing instead. She reached for the salad bowl and added a heaping mound to her plate.
“This lasagna is delicious.” Jane set down her fork. “We must get the recipe, right, Sally?”
“Of course. You’ve outdone yourself.” Sally took another bite of her pasta dish.
“It’ll be published soon.” Hope worked the lasagna pan to cut a wedge and carefully transferred it to her plate.
“Speaking of published. I heard your podcast. It was very moving. Good job.” Sally patted Hope’s hand.
“Devon would have approved,” Jane said.
“Thank you,” Hope said. She broke off a piece of lasagna with her fork. As they ate their meal, they talked about anything but murder and the weather. Finally, rounds of laughter filled the room, as well as sibling bickering between Hannah and Logan. But there was a collective “oohing” when Hope presented a plate of whimsically decorated sugar cookies for dessert.
Claire carried the coffeepot to the table and set it on the trivet. “You’re pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”
Hope looked at her sister, puzzled by the statement. “What are you talking about?”
“The podcast, getting a confession from Gail, and now these cookies.” Claire reached for one and took a bite.
“How do they taste?” Hope asked. After reading Joyce’s recipe, she’d realized her own cookie recipe was similar to it. So, when she began baking, she decided to follow Joyce’s recipe. It only seemed right.
Claire swallowed her bite. “Delicious. Like Sally said, you’ve outdone yourself.” She finished the rest of the cookie as Hope looked on with amazement. Pasta, bread, and now a cookie. Claire was playing loose and fast with carbs. “About what happened the other day with Amy about her mom . . . we’re good, right?”
Hope smiled as she pulled her sister in for a hug. “Always and forever.”