One Menu at a Time Read online

  Renee wasn’t known for doling out warm fuzzies, but I thought giving her more interaction with Bailey would help her lighten up a bit. I mean, seriously, how could she not feel warmth toward this sweet child?

  She grudgingly slipped off the stool and tromped to the living room. As soon as I put the rag down, Bailey shot into the living room like a hurricane and was leaning against the arm of the sofa, already swaying and singing the theme song when Renee finally tuned into the show. She no sooner headed back to the kitchen than Bailey, who was now standing in front of the sofa, called out to her.

  “Ann Nene, up.”

  Renee returned to the living room. “What do you need?”

  I watched Bailey from the kitchen as she handed Renee the two cookies, one of which was probably soggy and half-eaten. Renee made a face—I guess she’d forgotten what it was like to have small children now that her girls were pretty self-sufficient. Bailey pulled on the fabric of the cushion and climbed up on the sofa and scooted around to face the screen after crossing her legs. Her hands automatically shot out for the return of her cookies. I watched Renee wipe her hands on her slacks as she walked back to the kitchen.

  “Tank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I could tell by the expression on Renee’s face she wasn’t happy.

  “What’s wrong with you today?” I asked when she returned. “You’re not very compassionate toward her, or me for that matter.”

  “I just don’t think being a single mother at twenty-six is going to be good for either of you.”

  “Why? Do you think you could handle it better?”

  “Well, I at least have experience. What do you have?”

  “Geez, Renee. Is this the reason you moved to New York…so you could supervise me?” Renee shrugged. “Look, let’s face it, Missy adored that little girl in there.” I pointed. “Do you think for one second she would have named me guardian if she didn’t think I was capable?”

  “Well, she could have asked me.”

  “Ah, so that’s it. You’re mad because she selected me and not you.”

  “Well, no,” she stuttered. “I just don’t think you’re qualified, and you’re certainly not doing Bailey any favors without a father. She has no one to look up to.”

  “What?” I could feel tension gathering in my shoulders. “So you’re saying if I was married, being her guardian would be okay? I’d be a real role model? Is that right?”

  “Well, sort of. You’d have someone to share the responsibilities with.” She shook her head. “And I’m wondering how you’re going to continue to work for Cassie. What are you going to do with Bailey when you’re teaching cooking classes? Let her stay with a babysitter?”

  “Oh, so having a father for Bailey would change that, huh?” She nodded. “Right, like he’d stay home from work to babysit.” I snickered. “I think you’ve lost your mind, girl.” My impulse to lash out at her audacity was overpowering, but I feared my raised voice would upset Bailey, it being a practice totally foreign to her. It took every ounce of restraint I had to control the anger racing through my veins. I inhaled deeply and blew out the breath before continuing.

  “For your information, I can bring Bailey to work with me. We have a nursery in the back of the shop manned by a very competent young woman named Andrea who takes excellent care of the children while their parents take the cooking classes. And how can you even suggest such a thing after the way Ryan ran off with another woman right before our wedding?” My blood was starting to bubble over. “Once you’ve been burned, you don’t go near the flame again for a long time.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve overextended the mourning period.”

  “Have I, now? You seem to have forgotten what I went through. If it hadn’t been for our brother’s intervention, I might have gone off the deep end.”

  “So you’re admitting you’re unstable?”

  “What an asinine thing to say.” Renee always knew which hot buttons to push. I squared my shoulders and left the kitchen, ready to sit in the living room. “I think you’d better leave now.”

  “No, please don’t.” Renee knew I was mad. Renee just couldn’t help herself. She sat quietly for a few minutes and then decided to try another approach. “I’m really trying to understand all of this.”

  I released frustration in a steady stream and tried to explain. “Trusting a man is not on the top of my list these days, especially now that I have Bailey. Can you imagine how she’d feel if another adult vanished from her life?”

  “You’re using Bailey as an excuse to support the same thing you’ve been saying for over a year.”

  I disregarded her comment and pointed out her lack of experience when she had her kids. “And another thing, when it comes to experience, I seem to remember you having your first child when you were twenty-one. Where did your experience come from?”

  “Well, I guess you’ve got me there. I was a young mother, but I did have a husband to back me up.”

  “Renee, do you hear yourself?” I gestured in Bailey’s direction. “She was a year old when Donald died. If it hadn’t been for Missy making sure to mention him, she wouldn’t know a thing about him. Missy did a great job of raising Bailey without a father.”

  I could tell from the expression on Renee’s face that her impudence had emerged from her own insecurities. I found it ironic that Renee, the oldest sibling in our family, opted for the antagonist role instead of the role of family peacemaker. I willed myself to calm down.

  “Look, I know you’re as upset as I am about losing Missy. It’s up to us to make the best of a bad situation for Bailey’s sake. It’s only you, Riley, and me who are going to carry out Missy’s legacy—there’s no one else.”

  Renee covered her eyes with her hands and cried. “I’m sorry.” I handed her a tissue to blow her nose. “I don’t mean to be so hurtful.” She dabbed at more tears. “I’m sorry, Sis; my nose is out of joint that Missy didn’t want me to raise Bailey.”

  “I’m sure that wasn’t the case at all,” I reluctantly reassured her, pulling her into a tight hug. “She probably figured you already had your hands full with your own family.”

  Bailey spotted us from the living room. “Bailey hug.” I motioned for her to come to the kitchen. She quickly slid down off the sofa and ran in for a family hug.

  “Or,” Renee said as she wiped her tears with the tissue, “maybe this was Missy’s way of telling you it’s time to get married.”

  Add the first three ingredients to a large mixer bowl and snap into place on your electric mixer. Now drape a dish towel over the top of the motor head, allowing it to hang down over the sides to stop the ingredients from flying out while the beater is movin’ and groovin’ to the beat of your irritated heart. Do that until the butter and sugars reach the puffed-up and light tan stage—otherwise, cookies will be gritty just like the sister.

  Now, understand this takes patience—something you’re going to need to acquire when it comes to Renee, but deal with it, okay? Reaching the puffed-up and light-tan stage typically takes five minutes. While we realize you’ve just been given a crash course in dealing with Renee’s insecurities and her caustic mouth, keep your focus on how Missy would have handled it. It will get easier as time goes on. Remember to take the high road.

  And if you think she’ll ease up on the sorry excuse you’ve been using for the last year about marriage and involvement, don’t kid yourself. She’ll be coming right backatcha with Hang on tight, baby sister, love is gonna hit you like a freight train.

  Now add the egg, the brandy used to macerate the raisins, and the vanilla to the butter mixture, and get the beater engine running—just until the mixture is smooth and creamy.

  Toss all the dry ingredients together in a separate bowl and mix thoroughly with a wire whisk to incorporate, and then add those dry ingredients a little at a time into the mixture you made tanned and puffed, smooth and creamy. Stir in the raisins.

  Using a medium-sized ice cream
scoop, place the rounded cookie dough one inch apart on a greased cookie sheet and flatten with your hand or a fork. Bake for eight to ten minutes. Be careful, these cookies can be pretty addictive. Yields about three dozen cookies, depending on the size scoop you use.

  “Hey,” Cassie said when she walked into the apartment. “You must be feeling better today. You’re cooking.” Bailey heard Cassie’s voice and bolted into the room to greet her by wrapping her arms around her legs. Cassie stooped down and gave her a hug. “Mmm,” she sniffed, “your hair smells pretty.”

  “Ann Amie…bubbles in the water.”

  “Yeah,” I said wryly. “Little Miss Beauty Queen got into my makeup vanity this morning. She was a mess.”

  “Bailey pretty like Amie.”

  “But she’s promised not to touch anything that doesn’t belong to her again. Isn’t that right, Bailey?”

  Bailey nodded in the affirmative.

  “Want to watch Dora?”

  “Dora the ’splorer?” She galloped into the living room.

  “Okay, but only until dinner,” I said trailing behind her.

  With Bailey situated in front of the television, I returned to the kitchen to find Cassie stacking the mail into separate piles for each of us.

  “Do you have a few minutes to talk?” I asked.

  “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

  “I need to come back to work. This staying home is for the birds. Between finishing the food Bailey doesn’t eat and hovering over the stove, I’ve gained weight and I’m not very happy about it.”

  “Well, we’ve enjoyed coming home to those luscious cooked meals every night, but I’ll be very glad to have you back. The classes are getting bigger all the time and I’m tired of running them by myself. I’ve had Gabi helping me on her days off when she has a lull in catering jobs, but she’s not used to teaching and has a hard time maintaining the students’ attention.”

  “It’s just a learning curve.”

  “Oh sure, I know that, and I really appreciate her help, but our students have come to rely on our skills to learn things, and I don’t want to disappoint or lose what we’ve worked hard to build.”

  “Well, then it’s a good thing I’m coming back.” I walked to the stove and checked on our dinner.

  “Yes. It’s a real good thing.” Cassie filled a glass to the top. “Want one?”

  “I do. I also want to talk to you about our living arrangements.”

  “I figured this was coming. Okay, shoot.”

  “Listen, you have enough pressure from your mother about having babies. I didn’t realize having Bailey around was making Josh more anxious, and Mom ever-present on your case. You and Josh have been so wonderful about letting us live here, but now I feel as though we’re imposing. Cripes, you two are newlyweds and it’s bad enough having me here, let alone having a child underfoot. You didn’t sign on for any of this, and I’m sure the reason you haven’t said anything is because of the loss of my sister.”

  “Oh, I never should have said anything to you. I was just venting because I knew how my mother was going to act once Bailey came into the apartment. I’m a big girl. I just don’t like my mother ignoring me. How’s that for an only-child syndrome? But now, I have some news to share that I’ve been dying to tell you but haven’t. Josh and I just purchased a fixer-upper house, so we’ll be moving anyway—and before you ask, it had nothing to do with Bailey being here.”

  I blew out a breath. “Oh, how wonderful! But you could have told me.”

  “Well, I didn’t want to seem insensitive.”

  “I understand. Right now, Bailey is loving the attention from all of us, but I think getting some normalcy back in her life will be a good thing too.”

  “I agree.”

  “I’m dying to know more about the new place.”

  “I’ll take you over there later.”

  “Oh, good. So do you think the landlord will let me sublet this place from you guys?”

  “I don’t see where that would be a problem,” she said, “but I will call him. He knew when Megan left that I was going to get another tenant to share the rent, and he didn’t have problems with that, so I can’t imagine him minding. My only concern is he’ll raise the rent. But in the meantime, I want you to know that we’ve really enjoyed having Bailey around here. She’s like a bright light, and very much in need of a support system right now and we’ve become her extended family. And my mother? Well, she is who she is and nothing is going to stop her, so I need to stop being so sensitive.”

  “Thank you, Cass.” We clinked our glasses together. “Okay, next subject.”

  Cassie smirked. “Uh-oh, I’m almost afraid to ask.” Her brow creased. “Do I need to know this?”

  “Yeah, I think you do. It’s work. I’d like permission to bring Bailey to the shop and have Andrea watch her in the nursery.”

  “Oh, of course. But do you think Bailey’s going to be content staying in the room all day?”

  “I don’t know. I’m hoping having other kids around will make the difference. My sister never left her with anyone but family, and I won’t ask Renee to do it every day. I don’t like the way she’s raised her own kids, and apparently neither did Missy or she would have made her guardian. Of course, I’ll have to try it out to see if it’ll work, and if it doesn’t…I guess you know what that means.”

  “Now that’s a conversation I don’t want to have.”

  “I know, neither do I, but I can’t let it interfere with your business or Bailey’s stability either.”

  “You’re right.” She pouted. “Why don’t we wait and try it out first before we jump off the bridge here. We might even get Mom to look after her.”

  “But they’re leaving on the cruise soon, aren’t they?”

  Cassie sighed. “Darn.” She snapped her fingers. “I forgot all about that. Okay. Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.” She walked to the stove and opened the oven door and took a whiff. “Oh yum, you made pork with stuffing? It’s been ages since I’ve had pork. Is it time to eat yet?”

  Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

  To make the stuffing, melt butter in a large skillet and sauté the onions, celery, apple, and garlic until crisp-tender, approximately three to five minutes. Add the two spices to the pan and stir to incorporate. It seems as though you’re feeling a bit domestic these days and home on the range like a real mom. Get back to the real world and start cooking for customers and forget this family crap. But be careful about letting the sister know you’re cooking up a storm and enjoying it; she’ll be stuffing guys down your throat faster than you can say, “Leave me alone.” Just play dumb and Renee may go away.

  Now hurry and fill a large bowl with the bread cubes and pecans. Pour the sautéed vegetables from the saucepan over top of the cubes and toss until evenly coated. Allow the mixture to rest while you prepare the tenderloin. Cutting off the exterior fat and sinew should provide you with some relief from the tension that wells in your stomach every time you mention your sister.

  Butterfly the tenderloin by using the tip of a sharp knife. Starting in the center of the meat, cut in a straight line toward each end—no, not all the way through; be sure to leave at least an inch of uncut meat to keep it intact so it looks just like a rowboat ready for passengers to sit, only this time the passengers are stuffing. Place the pork tenderloin in a roasting dish or pan and spread the two sides apart with your fingers. Season the tenderloin with granulated garlic, salt, and pepper to taste. Spoon the stuffing into the belly of the boat and shape to ensure it remains together. Bake for approximately twenty-five to thirty minutes or until a meat thermometer reads 160 degrees.

  While the meat is baking, place dried apricots in a saucepan and cover with a half cup of water. Allow them to simmer until tender. To make the nectar, pour the softened apricots into a blender with a tablespoon of the water, and puree until it resembles the consistency of applesauce. Using low heat, pour the nectar back into the same saucepan; add th
e currant jelly and stir to incorporate the mixture. Allow it to come to a slow boil. Lower the heat, dissolve the cornstarch in the water, and stir into the sauce until slightly thickened.

  Before serving, add the brandy over top. And if you’re feeling particularly creative, ignite the brandy to burn the alcohol off the top for a little bit of drama, but if you’ve never done this before, be careful. You don’t want to start a fire or burn your fingers. Not that you need more drama in your life; this is only for effect. Once the flames die down, like the flame that cauterized your heart, stir. Slice the tenderloin into three-inch pieces; ladle the sauce to cover the entire bottom of a dinner plate and place the tenderloin on top. Garnish with fresh raspberries and serve immediately. Serves four.

  “Once the vegetables have been sautéed and are—” Cassie stopped talking midsentence when Bailey bolted from the nursery calling out to me. Everyone turned in her direction.

  “Uh-oh,” was all that came out of my mouth, as I turned in slow motion afraid to see what she’d done. The class was already laughing, and then I heard her voice.

  “Bailey look pretty?”

  “Oh, no.” I smacked my hand against the side of the chair. Darn her. Frustrated, I rose from my chair. “I’ll get this little delinquent,” I said as I sailed from the classroom toward her, scooping her up into my arms in one fell swoop. She reeked of musk oil and was covered with lipstick, and not just on her face, but every part of her exposed body. Renee’s words echoed through my mind with every gallop I took to get her out of sight. I did need to discipline her.

  “Bailey!” I said crossly. “Where did you get that lipstick?”

  The child pointed to Andrea’s purse, now strewn all over the floor. “Anree.”

  “Oh, no,” I heard Andrea screech when she entered the room, shaking her head in despair.