Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Hannah was just wondering which cookie recipe she should bake next when she remembered what she’d been discussing with Michelle and Rose at breakfast this morning. They’d all agreed that everybody needed a little chocolate and there were no chocolate cookies on the bakers rack. Perhaps she’d try a new cookie, a chocolate cookie. Michelle had given her a new chocolate cookie recipe. It was from her friend, Julia Meister, a dance major she’d worked with in several theater productions. Michelle said she’d baked the cookies that Julia called Triple Chocolate Cookies and they were the deepest, darkest, fudgiest cookies she’d ever tasted. If they were as good as Michelle said they were, they were bound to be a hit in the coffee shop.

Hannah was just taking pans of cookies from the oven when there was a knock at the back door. I hope it’s not Mother coming to tell me she changed her mind about the wedding plans again! she thought as she crossed the kitchen floor and opened the back door.

“Mike!” she said, giving him a big smile. “I’m really glad to see you.”

“Thanks, Hannah,” Mike said, looking pleased. “That’s the warmest greeting I’ve gotten all day. I ran into Bill at the Corner Tavern and he wouldn’t even look at me. He was sitting all by himself and he sure didn’t look happy.”

Hannah snapped her mouth closed and went to get him a cup of coffee. She’d been about to tell him that she’d expected her mother and had been relieved to see him instead, but that might make him feel bad.

“Thanks,” Mike said, accepting the cup of coffee she handed him and reaching for a cookie from the plate she’d set on the work counter. “Do you know if Bill’s made up with Andrea yet?”

“Not that I know of. I do know that she was still mad at him yesterday. It might be a while before she forgives him for arresting me. I know from experience that Andrea can hold a grudge for a long time.”

“What experience was that?”

“Just something that happened when we were kids. I got a red bicycle for Christmas and she got a gold one. She wanted the red.”

“Why didn’t you switch?”

“Because I’m just as stubborn as she is. Red was my favorite color, even back then. I wasn’t about to give up a red bicycle. Besides . . . there was another consideration.”

“What was that?”

“Andrea’s younger and she was a lot smaller than I was. Maybe she could have reached the pedals on mine, but if I’d tried to ride her little bike, I would have banged my knees on the handlebars.”