“I’m sure you will, Manny,” she said, scooping up the newfound evidence. “On that, I don’t have a single doubt.”
Stomping snow from her boots, Hattie opened the door to her house and was met with a wall of heat, and the aroma of something tangy, robust, and spicy hit her full in the face. Her stomach rumbled as she threw her car keys into her purse, then shrugged off her coat.
“Something smells just short of wonderful,” she said, and from deep in the kitchen her mother laughed hard enough that the laughter gave way to a coughing fit.
“It should. Been working on it for hours,” Zena called from the kitchen. She stepped into the hallway, wearing an apron and holding a wooden spoon. “My version of minestrone soup. Got the recipe from a friend of mine; you remember Tottie. Well, she never could quite get the spices right, so I tweaked it a bit. Uh-oh, here comes trouble!”
“Mommy!” Mallory yelled, and both girls came running from the back bedroom. Mallory, in a turtleneck, tutu, and ballet slippers, danced and twirled her way into the living area. McKenzie, wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and cowboy boots, clomped fast behind her sister.
“Beware the thundering herd!” Zena declared.
“How’re my girls?” Hattie asked, kneeling down. All of her weariness suddenly disappeared as she hugged first one twin, then the other. “Have you had fun with Grandma?”
“They had a blast,” Zena said. “And don’t let them tell you differently.” She waggled her spoon, pointing first at McKenzie, then Mallory. “Did we make cookies or what?”
“Yeah!” McKenzie said. “Gingerbread men!”
“Seriously?” Hattie looked over her shoulder at her mother. “You know it’s almost the new year.”
“I had some leftover dough.” She lifted a shoulder. “Couldn’t let it go to waste.”
“We made gingerbread women too!” Mallory added and gave her sister a get-it-right glare. “Not just men.” They bounced into the kitchen and Hattie followed to see that, indeed, lying faceup on cooling racks, two dozen or so gingerbread people were decorated, or overdecorated to the max. Neon-colored frosting, cinnamon hearts, sprinkles, and tiny chocolate chips had been pushed into the cookies in every imaginable combination.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” McKenzie whispered.
“That they are. Every last one of them.” Hattie glanced at her mother. “Thanks.”
“No sweat,” Zena said and stirred some fresh pasta into a huge pot of soup, then opened the oven door, and the smell of baking bread escaped on a warm cloud. “Dinner’s about on. Go on, girls, wash up!”
With a little less enthusiasm, they raced down the short hallway to the bathroom. Zena glanced at her daughter once they were alone. “How’d it go?”
“What do you mean?”
“You told me you were going to go talk to Cade about Dan.”
“Yes.”
“I know there was more to that conversation.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, sure you do, honey. It’s the damned elephant in the room that neither of us ever talks about. But I’ve battled cancer and still am. God knows if I’m going to win that fight, so I don’t have time for any more skating around the issue.”
Hattie, standing near the kitchen table, stared in disbelief at her mother. Zena knew? That had to be what she was leading up to. Heart beating a little faster, she said, “What issue?”
“Hattie, for the love of God. I know you’ve had a fascination, no, make that an obsession with those Grayson boys since you were in high school, maybe younger. And I don’t blame you. They’ve got it all, and I’ve always been one to appreciate a sexy man, otherwise I wouldn’t have been married five damned times!” She gave the pot another stir. “When I was your age, I think I was married to Cara’s father, Richard, at the time, or maybe I was on to Hank by that time, I really can’t remember, but I never dreamed I would have said ‘I do’ and meant it five times. Lordy. Anyway, doesn’t matter, I always told you that Dan Grayson was the brother you should have married.”
“I know.”
“But Cade, he was the one who was in your blood, honey. I knew about Bart’s problem, y’know, about fathering kids. Wasn’t hard to figure out when you tried so long and nothing happened. Yet you were pregnant in a blink with the twins.”
“Mom, this is really none of your business.”
“Well, I’m making it my business right now,” she said and finding a tasting spoon, took a dip from the kettle. Steam rose from the small spoon and she blew across the rich broth before tasting it. “Mmmm. Perfect,” she said. “Better than Tottie Juniper’s, let me tell you.” She slipped the spoon into the sink where several other pans and cookie sheets were soaking. “So, I’m asking again, how’d it go with Cade?”
Hattie was about to argue, but Zena sent her a look that could cut through steel. “Don’t,” she warned.
Hattie sighed and looked up at the ceili