“Catnapped,” she said, listening for disaster to break loose. Thirty seconds passed, and then a full minute as Hannah watched the second hand on the kitchen clock. Was Moishe actually going to behave like a well-trained movie cat and not scratch, or yowl, or exercise any of the other bad kitty behaviors he’d perfected over the years? She was listening so intently and concentrating so hard, it came as a shock when there was a sharp knock on the back door. “Coming,” Hannah called out and went to open it.

It was Andrea and she was dressed to the nines. Her coat was powder blue suede with white fur around the collar and the hemline, and she wore matching gloves of pale blue leather. Her boots matched her gloves, and the only thing that was missing from the ensemble that Hannah called Andrea’s Princess of Winter outfit was the white fur hat that she usually wore on her head.

“No hat?” Hannah asked, taking her sister’s coat and hanging it up on the rack near the back door.

“The dog ate it.”

“What dog? You don’t have a dog.”

“I know. It was Reverend Knudson’s dog, Vespers. She got out and Bill spotted her in front of the community center. He put Vespers in the backseat and took her home. It happened a couple of weeks ago.”

“And your hat was in the backseat?”

“That’s right.”

“And Vespers ate it?”

“Well

she tore up more than she ate. We couldn’t really blame her. I think it was made out of real fur. I’m just glad it didn’t make her sick.”

Hannah reached out to give her sister a little hug, an unusual gesture from a member of the Swensen clan who weren’t known for being demonstrative.

“What was that for?” Andrea asked.

“For being more concerned about Vespers than you were about losing your hat. I’m proud of you, Sis.”

“Oh. Well

the hat was last season’s anyway.” Andrea waved off the compliment, but Hannah could tell she was pleased. “How about a cookie for Lake Eden’s newest stage mother?”

“Tracey got the part?”

“Yes, and I’m so excited! Mr. Barton called us this morning with the good news. It wasn’t just up to him, you know. Mr. Lawrence had to approve her.”

“How could he not approve her?” Hannah waited until Andrea sat down on a stool at the work island, and then she served her hot coffee and two of their newest experimental cookies. “There was never any doubt in my mind that Tracey would get the part. I saw her audition and she was brilliant.”

Andrea looked very proud. “I thought she was brilliant, too. I was ninety-nine percent sure she had it, but I didn’t want to count my chickens before they were laid.”

“Hatched. Chickens are hatched, eggs are laid.”