Hilde was quiet the entire walk back to her house. Logan was unsuccessful in drawing her into any conversation. She simply walked along, either lost in pity or lost in thought.
If it was self-pity, well, that wasn’t Aunt Hilde’s style. Baxter thought she deserved a little pity party anyway.
If it was thought, there was no telling what was going through her mind until she chose to talk about it.
“I’m going to drop this off at my place on the way,” Logan said, motioning to his jacket. “I’ll catch up with you two in a minute.”
“Sure,” Baxter said. He draped his arm lightly over Aunt Hilde’s shoulder once they were on the porch. She dug out her keys.
Baxter took her keys to unlock the door and entered first so he could turn on a light. “Can I get you something, Aunt Hilde? Put on the kettle for tea or something?” Not that he had any concept of making good tea. She used the loose leaf stuff.
He was used to the teabags. From what Logan said, that automatically disqualified him from any tea-drinking associations.
"No, thank you, honey. I think I’ll put on my nightgown and curl up in bed with a book. I’m not feeling very well.” She cupped Baxter’s face affectionately. “You’re a fine man, Baxter. Don’t break Logan’s heart.”
“Okay,” he said, cautiously. Where that came from, he could only guess. “Good night.”
“Night. Make sure to lock up on the way out.”
He waited for her to disappear into her bedroom before Baxter turning off the living room lights and locking the door.
Logan jogged up. His brow was furrowed in concern. “Is everything okay?”
“She’s gone to bed. Wasn’t up for company, I guess.”
“Well, come over for coffee?”
Baxter smiled at the invitation. He hadn’t had the chance to see the inside of Logan’s house yet. The man was always so orderly and neat. His SUV was pristine. His clothing were always fresh and pressed. His lawn was immaculate.
Even his garage was neat. No one’s garage was neat. The very definition of garage was not neat.
With Logan, everything had a place and everything in its place.
His living room was more of the same. Baxter stepped in, then moved to the side so Logan could shut the door. “I put the book on the kitchen table. Am I putting tea or coffee on? I don’t have decaf.”
“Coffee. I don’t need decaf. The caffeine doesn’t affect me,” Baxter said.
“Lucky. I can’t drink anything with caffeine after six or I’m up all night.”
Baxter sat down at the kitchen table and flipped open the recipe book. “I saw something I thought was sketchy when I flipped through it earlier. So I want your second opinion.”
“Sure.” Logan set up the automatic drip and then dragged a chair next to Baxter.
For a brief moment, Baxter’s brain froze. He fixated on the scent of Logan’s hair. It took all his self-control not to bury his face and inhale like some creeper.
“What are we looking at?”
Logan's voice broke through the fog, and Baxter straightened. "Right. So, I'm just going to flip to a page at random, and you tell me what you spot."
Holding the book to stand up on its spine, he released it and let the book fall open naturally on a random page. It flopped open, and Baxter didn't even look at it before he shoved the book over in front of Logan.
Logan peered closely at the pages.
“Okay. So, I’m looking at a recipe. What am I looking for?” Logan peered closely at the pages.
Baxter waited patiently.
Logan’s face furrowed into a frown. “I guess I don’t see it.”
“Start flipping. Fan the pages and look at the corner.”
With a shrug, Logan did that. It took a couple of tries before he paused on a recipe. “Wait…”
There it was. While Logan deliberately flipped the pages, Baxter got up and poured himself a mug. He didn’t feel like digging for the creamer or the sugar. Turning, he leaned against the counter and watched as Logan flipped the pages faster and faster.
“She printed these off the internet.”
Baxter gestured towards the book with his mug. “So much for family recipes.”
“Yeah,” Logan closed the book. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with getting recipes off the internet. I do it all the time.”
“Do you claim them as your own?”
He laughed. “No, definitely not. But I’m still not sure what your point is.”
“My point is that she has Harvey believing that her recipes were handed down to her.”
“You think this is what has Hilde so depressed?”
“I’m willing to bet the bank on it.” Baxter strolled to sit next to Logan again. He flipped the book open and thumbed through it. Since they were in alphabetical order, he went to the Rs.
There it was. Red Velvet Cake.
He scanned the recipe, then sat back feeling rather smug. “And it seems she bakes her cakes using red food dye.”
“And?” Logan said. “I don’t follow.”
“Hilde’s is done through the chemistry of the recipe.” Baxter held up a hand. “And don’t ask for more specifics because I pretended I understood. Clearly, I didn’t.”
Logan leaned back in the chair. "Well, as I see it, you have two problems."
“Two problems? Wait…I have two problems?”
He nodded. “First is obviously telling Aunt Hilde. Her cooking from her grandmother’s recipes is a point of pride for her. She was banking on that cake to win Harvey’s heart. The second is, dude, Baxter, you stole this book.”
"I didn't steal it," Baxter protested. "It was sitting right there. No one in sight. In fact, it could be said I saved it from an uncertain fate. You know how Brussels McScrewed Face likes to throw shit away."
“Brussels…who?”
“That Frazier Carmen guy.”
“Oh, right. The manager of the facility. You have a point.”
Of course Baxter had a point. The man had almost succeeded in ruining Christmas. Right now, he was on Baxter’s shit list.
“So, that means you’re going to turn this over to Anne Luthrow?” Logan asked, holding the book up.
“No? I hadn’t planned on it. Serves her right for upsetting Aunt Hilde.”
Logan looked at Baxter, disapproval clear on his face. “Baxter.”
“Don’t ‘Baxter’ me,” he said. “I want Aunt Hilde to see that her competition involves a lying thief to get one up on her. After that? I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Obviously, it wasn't a point Logan wanted to argue. "So what we need to figure out is how to help Hilde get back in Harvey's notice."
“Why not just tell him that Anne Luthrow is a lying sneak-thief? Isn’t honesty always the best policy?”
“Yes, but…”
“What possible ‘but’ can there be?”
“It could hurt Anne.”
Baxter frowned. "And why is that a bad thing?" He threw his hands up. "Look. I'm not looking to be a bad guy here or anything, but why not just come up off the truth with Harvey and let him make up his own mind?"
“Because this meant so much to your aunt. To do something nice for him. It’d be nice if he could see that it was a gift from her heart to him for a special day.”
“Special day,” Baxter scoffed lightly. “It’s just another day. February 13th, June 5th, October 9th, they’re all just days. What makes February 14th so special and unique that it can be ruined?”
The more Baxter talked, the quieter and more still Logan became until he wasn’t sure that Logan was even breathing.
“So, you don’t think expressing affection is important?”
“Not what I was—”
“And a special day set aside for people to gather the courage to say something to some is…what bogus? Wasted? Foolish?”
Uh oh. Baxter probably just stepped on a land mine judging by Logan’s tone. “Logan. Wait. I think—”
Logan stood abruptly and gathered the book, thrusting it at him. "You know, Baxter, I'm tired, and it's been a long night. We can talk about this another time."
His coffee sat half drunk when Logan took the mug. He poured it in the sink. “You can lock the door on the way out.”
Nope. There was no suspecting anything. He knew he’d stepped in it big time.
With Logan’s back to him, it was easy to interpret the conversation was over. “Sure, I’ll um, see you tomorrow.” He slunk to the door like a dog who’d been yelled at.
“Baxter,” Logan said over his shoulder. “You need to tell Hilde about the book.”
“I um…”
“Because if you don’t, I will.”
“Right.”
“And Baxter?”
Baxter paused again.
“Take the book with you. I don’t want it in my house.”