Christmas On Nutcracker Court

Christmas On Nutcracker Court by Judy Duarte Page A

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Authors: Judy Duarte
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she peered into the five-gallon pot of water she’d placed on the stove earlier, she saw that it was now boiling, so she added the pasta. Then she checked the meat, which was in another pan. The scent of tomatoes, basil, and garlic were coming together as the sauce simmered nicely, so she turned down the burner. But as she did so, she felt another hot flash coming on.
    At sixty-two, she’d already gone through menopause, so having those annoying flushes start up again seemed odd—and unfair.
    There could, of course, be something other than hormones causing them, but she hadn’t gotten around to making an appointment to see the doctor yet. Her calendar was pretty full this month, so she wasn’t sure when she’d find the time—certainly not in the next six days.
    As the discomfort intensified, she fanned herself with a fluttery hand, which wasn’t very effective, and sighed.
    Earlier this morning, Pastor Craig had stopped by and turned on the heater, saying the weatherman was predicting both rain and hail by midafternoon.
    Trouble was, the thermostat only read 71, yet it felt like an oven in here. If she’d been at home, she would have changed out of her winter clothes and into something summery. But since that wasn’t an option, she considered going out on the back porch until she cooled off.
    But even if she could blame those pesky hot flashes on age and hormones, she didn’t know what was causing the occasional flutters and rumbles in her chest.
    Nerves, she supposed, and good, old-fashioned stress.
    Her hands had been a little shaky lately, especially this morning. But she’d also had three cups of coffee at breakfast, which probably explained why. She really ought to switch to drinking only decaf, but she’d sure been dragging lately, and without the caffeine, she’d probably be curled up in the corner right now, taking a nap.
    â€œHow’s it going?” her husband of almost forty years asked as he slipped up behind her and peered over her shoulder and into the pan. “Need someone to taste the meat sauce for you?”
    Rosa couldn’t help but smile. Carlos loved her cooking, which was why he was about fifty pounds overweight. And since she did her best to prepare the meals and treats he enjoyed the most, she’d nearly gained the same amount.
    Trouble was, she’d put on half of it over the past few months. But she blamed that on her bad knees, which made moving around difficult and exercise nearly impossible.
    Carlos opened a drawer and pulled out a spoon, but before he could scoop up any sauce to taste, Pastor Craig entered the kitchen with a woman in her mid to late forties.
    â€œGood news,” the minister said. “I’ve got another volunteer to help you out while the Randolphs are in Hawaii.”
    Rosa and Carlos both turned to greet the woman, whom Craig referred to as Mary-Margaret Di Angelo.
    After introductions were made all the way around, the blonde asked them to call her Maggie.
    At that, Rosa cocked her head to the side, causing a drop of perspiration to dribble down her temple and onto her cheek. She swiped it away with the back of her hand and asked, “Are you related to Helen Pritchard?”
    â€œYes, I’m her cousin.”
    â€œI thought your name sounded familiar.” Rosa wiped her damp hand on her apron before reaching out to greet Maggie with a handshake and a grin. “Helen’s a friend of mine. She mentioned that you’d be house-sitting while she was gone. In fact, I was supposed to stop by with Lynette and Susan yesterday, but I wasn’t able to join you.”
    â€œOh, yes. You’re that Rosa—and one of the Lils.” Maggie’s grip was warm and solid. “I’m glad we finally have a chance to meet.”
    Rosa was, too. “Are you planning to help us in the soup kitchen today?”
    â€œI can, ” Maggie said. “Do you need me?”
    Rosa was about

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