The Diva Says Cheesecake!

My grandmother says there are two ways to make cheesecake. One is with sour cream and one is with heavy cream. Is that true? Which one is better?

Grannie’s Girl in Grand Rapids, Michigan

Dear Grannie’s Girl,

It is true. Some people even substitute cottage cheese, but those are the two most common ingredients. Heavy cream makes for a richer, more silky cheesecake. Sour cream is also delicious, but it results in a slightly more dense cheesecake.

On the Fourth of July, I heard Marjorie Hollingsworth-Smythe utter, “Now that’s a stunning man, Dodie.”

Naturally I had to look up and see who she meant. It was Eddie Bigalow, the man who had followed me down the street, the same one I had seen kissing Marsha during a fish delivery. The mastermind of the illegal fishing scam. What was he doing at Marjorie Hollingsworth-Smythe’s party? He stood next to Natasha, cooing, “Natasha. My beautiful Natasha. You must forgive me. Please!”

Her mother, Wanda, stood next to her. “Give him a break, Natasha. I haven’t had a handsome man burst into my bedroom in the middle of the night in years! And never an FBI agent before!”

“Mother, please.”

Griselda beamed. “He’s lovely, Natasha. Not everyone has their houses raided by the FBI in the middle of the night. I say we all forgive him. If I were your age, I would grab him and run.”

I reached for my phone and texted Wolf to let him know the mastermind of the illegal fishing deal was at Marjorie’s party.

Natasha gazed at him adoringly.

Had she lost her mind?

She curled a finger at him, coaxing him slowly to the display of gorgeous cheesecakes. “Which flavor is your favorite, darling?”

I heard Mars groan, “Oh, give me a break!”

Eddie didn’t act like a fugitive from the FBI. He smiled at Natasha. “Perhaps this one with all the luscious berries piled on top?”

In an amazingly swift move, Natasha slid her right hand under the cheesecake, turned around and smashed it in Eddie’s face so hard that he stumbled backward and fell to the ground on his back. The cheesecake was so dense we couldn’t even see his eyes. Berries rolled off his face to the ground.

Natasha stood over him and spoke in an even tone. “I have been disappointed by men all my life. And you have the distinction of being the very worst of the bunch.”

She walked away, her head high, as though she was through with him and was moving on to another chapter of her life.

Bernie and Mars grabbed him. I handed them plastic wrap.

Mars gazed at me in horror. “Won’t this suffocate him?”

“Use it to wrap his hands and feet, not his head.” I laughed at them. Anyone who has ever used plastic wrap knows that pulling on it only tightens the silly stuff into an impenetrable mess.

I glanced at Marjorie Hollingsworth-Smythe, thinking that she would be appalled by a crook invading her party, not to mention having a cheesecake slammed in his face, and now tied up.

But she merely gave him a glance, and said, “Pity. He’s so beautiful.”

He was, alas, a bit incongruous lying in the grass tied up next to the beautiful dessert table.

The sun was setting, sending golden and rosy hues through the sky. I had ordered blue French tablecloths as bases and covered them with white tablecloths bearing red and blue stars on an angle. Vases burst with fresh daisies as well as colorful gerbera daisies, whose beautiful blooms were reminiscent of bursting fireworks.

A string quartet played and guests mingled with drinks in their hands. Marjorie had insisted on an open bar, but I noticed that most were trying her watermelon margaritas. Some sat at tables on the lawn, others roamed and filled their plates with goodies. Unlike Bobbie Sue’s party, this dessert table was loaded with cheesecakes to try.

Morgan Newhouse, the tall, stunning FBI agent, showed up and graciously thanked Marjorie Hollingsworth-Smythe for allowing a scumbag like Eddie Bigalow to attend her party so they could arrest him. She handcuffed him and cut off the plastic wrap with a minimum of fuss, then escorted him to a waiting van.

Bobbie Sue had told me in confidence how delighted she was that a single mother with a toddler had won her cheesecake contest. She could relate all too well with the woman’s circumstances and had offered her a job.

She stood now with Spencer and Jo, looking at the Potomac and probably thinking about Tate watching his family from above. Spencer would be staying home and continuing at his regular school and would definitely be taking advanced placement classes in the fall.

The three of them were leaving town for a much deserved two-week vacation at the beach. Bobbie Sue said Pierce was not invited. He still faced charges for moving Tate and hiding him in the cellar of the restaurant, but Bobbie Sue had paid to bail him out until his trial. His lawyer was optimistic that the charges would be reduced because he had a clean record otherwise.

The evidence against Coach had been so overwhelming that the judge denied bail. He would be in prison for decades to come.

Darkness had fallen and all the lanterns and fairy lights sprang to life. Minutes later, a crackle in the sky let us know the fireworks were about to begin. They reflected on the water, doubling the explosions of color.

By ten thirty, the party was over. The guests had left. The caterers were gone. Bobbie Sue had departed with her children.

Marjorie Hollingsworth-Smythe had rescued leftovers and cheesecakes, pressing them on me. “I’ve paid for them. Someone better eat them.” She tore her daughter, Dodie, away from Bernie and they departed with stacks of cheesecakes. The tables and chairs and food had been removed, and the fireworks were now just a memory.

We sat on blankets under the stars, bathed by the light of the moon. I had borrowed forks from the caterer and handed them out. We tried the various cheesecakes, passing them around. We had no plates and simply ate like heathens, dipping our forks into the cheesecakes. Charlene fussed at Natasha and insisted that from now on, she would interview potential tenants. Wanda told her not to be so hard on Natasha because being raided was the most exciting thing that had happened to her in ages. Francie and Griselda discussed whether the amaretto cheesecake was better than the raspberry chocolate cheesecake. Nina was telling Mars and Bernie all about the shipping scam. The rubber chicken slingshot had evidently escaped the trip to the thrift shop because she pulled it out of her purse, which broke them into gales of laughter.

And I looked up at the sky and thanked my lucky stars for such great friends.