heated up some of that turkey I made last week. I thought we’d make sandwiches.”
“Excellent. Tryptophan is exactly what I need. Turkey always makes me sleepy. By any chance did you save any stuffing?”
Momma laughed. “I know how much you love it on your sandwiches. We’ve even got some cranberry sauce for a side dish.”
“That sounds like a feast to me,” I said. “Let me just wash up.”
When I got to the table, I found a beautiful sandwich waiting for me. She’d mixed white and dark meat, adding just enough mayo to the homemade sourdough bread to give it some moisture. The stuffing had been piled on as well and was slipping out from under the bread. A tall glass of milk and a side plate with jellied cranberry sauce finished the meal, and I got my new phone out and took a picture.
“What are you doing that for?” Momma asked.
I punched a few buttons, and then said, “I just sent Jake a photograph to show him what he’s missing. Sometimes I think it’s your food that keeps him coming back around here.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” she said, but Momma was clearly pleased by the compliment. A second later my telephone chimed once.
I checked it before I did anything else, and all Jake wrote back was, “You’re killing me. Take a bite for me.”
I told Momma, and she smiled a moment before she said, “Suzanne, you know our rules. No phones at the table.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said as I tucked it back into my pocket.
After we said the blessing I took a bite, letting the flavors explode in my mouth. My mother had learned as a new bride how to make a moist turkey, and she’d only gotten better over the years. The addition of the stuffing gave it all a blend of seasonings that was so much better than mere salt and pepper could bring to the meal. The milk was chilled to the right temperature, and the cool bite of the cranberry was the perfect complement to everything else. I shouldn’t have eaten it all, but I couldn’t help myself.
As I pushed my plate away, Momma said, “My, you built up quite an appetite after all.”
“Sleuthing does that to me sometimes,” I said.
“I do worry about you when you’re investigating murder,” Momma said.
“Hey, it’s not like it happens every day. Most of the time I’m content just making donuts, hanging out with you and Grace—and if I’m lucky, Jake—and trying to get as much beauty sleep as I can.”
“Not enough, in my opinion.”
“Of which? Sleep, donuts, or time with those I love?” I asked as I gathered up the plates.
“I know you have enough with donuts, but the other two could always use a little more attention,” she said.
We washed the few dishes together at the sink, chatting as we did. In many ways it took me back to my childhood; I had done the exact same thing beside her back then that I was doing right now. I hadn’t realized how special those times had been when I’d been growing up, but I cherished the memories of them now. Leaving home and marrying Max—a professional actor I liked to call the Great Impersonator—had made me realize just how special my childhood had been. Though Momma and I were still trying to find the balance of living together as two grown women and not just mother and daughter, most of the time with her was good.
I kissed her good-night and headed upstairs.
Just as I was about to call Jake, my cell phone rang, and much to my joy, it was the man himself.
“That was just plain cruel,” he said with a laugh when I said hello. “Was it as good as it looked?”
“Better,” I said with a smile in my voice I knew that he could hear. “Think of it as another sacrifice you have to make for being so good at what you do. What did you have for dinner?”
“A cold hamburger and some flat soda,” he admitted.
“That should be illegal. How’s the case going?”
“From bad to worse,” he admitted. “It’s quite a bit muddier than I thought it was going to be. I’m afraid it’s
“Excellent. Tryptophan is exactly what I need. Turkey always makes me sleepy. By any chance did you save any stuffing?”
Momma laughed. “I know how much you love it on your sandwiches. We’ve even got some cranberry sauce for a side dish.”
“That sounds like a feast to me,” I said. “Let me just wash up.”
When I got to the table, I found a beautiful sandwich waiting for me. She’d mixed white and dark meat, adding just enough mayo to the homemade sourdough bread to give it some moisture. The stuffing had been piled on as well and was slipping out from under the bread. A tall glass of milk and a side plate with jellied cranberry sauce finished the meal, and I got my new phone out and took a picture.
“What are you doing that for?” Momma asked.
I punched a few buttons, and then said, “I just sent Jake a photograph to show him what he’s missing. Sometimes I think it’s your food that keeps him coming back around here.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” she said, but Momma was clearly pleased by the compliment. A second later my telephone chimed once.
I checked it before I did anything else, and all Jake wrote back was, “You’re killing me. Take a bite for me.”
I told Momma, and she smiled a moment before she said, “Suzanne, you know our rules. No phones at the table.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said as I tucked it back into my pocket.
After we said the blessing I took a bite, letting the flavors explode in my mouth. My mother had learned as a new bride how to make a moist turkey, and she’d only gotten better over the years. The addition of the stuffing gave it all a blend of seasonings that was so much better than mere salt and pepper could bring to the meal. The milk was chilled to the right temperature, and the cool bite of the cranberry was the perfect complement to everything else. I shouldn’t have eaten it all, but I couldn’t help myself.
As I pushed my plate away, Momma said, “My, you built up quite an appetite after all.”
“Sleuthing does that to me sometimes,” I said.
“I do worry about you when you’re investigating murder,” Momma said.
“Hey, it’s not like it happens every day. Most of the time I’m content just making donuts, hanging out with you and Grace—and if I’m lucky, Jake—and trying to get as much beauty sleep as I can.”
“Not enough, in my opinion.”
“Of which? Sleep, donuts, or time with those I love?” I asked as I gathered up the plates.
“I know you have enough with donuts, but the other two could always use a little more attention,” she said.
We washed the few dishes together at the sink, chatting as we did. In many ways it took me back to my childhood; I had done the exact same thing beside her back then that I was doing right now. I hadn’t realized how special those times had been when I’d been growing up, but I cherished the memories of them now. Leaving home and marrying Max—a professional actor I liked to call the Great Impersonator—had made me realize just how special my childhood had been. Though Momma and I were still trying to find the balance of living together as two grown women and not just mother and daughter, most of the time with her was good.
I kissed her good-night and headed upstairs.
Just as I was about to call Jake, my cell phone rang, and much to my joy, it was the man himself.
“That was just plain cruel,” he said with a laugh when I said hello. “Was it as good as it looked?”
“Better,” I said with a smile in my voice I knew that he could hear. “Think of it as another sacrifice you have to make for being so good at what you do. What did you have for dinner?”
“A cold hamburger and some flat soda,” he admitted.
“That should be illegal. How’s the case going?”
“From bad to worse,” he admitted. “It’s quite a bit muddier than I thought it was going to be. I’m afraid it’s
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