“They’re already in the ovens, Hannah.” Lisa looked up from the stainless-steel work surface, where she was scooping out dough with a melon-baller and placing the perfectly round spheres into a small bowl filled with sugar. She was only nineteen, ten years younger than Hannah was, and her petite form was completely swaddled in the huge white baker’s apron she wore. “I’m working on the Molasses Crackles for the Boy Scout Awards Banquet now.”

Hannah had originally hired Lisa as a waitress, but it hadn’t taken her long to see that Lisa was capable of much more than pouring coffee and serving cookies. At the end of the first week, Hannah had increased Lisa’s hours from part-time to full-time and taught her to bake. Now they handled the business together, as a team.

“How’s your father today?” Hannah’s voice held a sympathetic note.

“Today’s a good day.” Lisa placed the unbaked tray of Molasses Crackles on the baker’s rack. “Mr. Drevlow is taking him to the Seniors’ Group at Holy Redeemer Lutheran.”

“But I thought your family was Catholic.”

“We are, but Dad doesn’t remember that. Besides, I don’t see how having lunch with the Lutherans could possibly hurt.”

“Neither do I. And it’s good for him to get out and socialize with his friends.”

“That’s exactly what I told Father Coultas. If God gave Dad Alzheimer’s, He’s got to understand when Dad forgets what church he belongs to.” Lisa walked to the oven, switched off the timer, and pulled out a tray of Chocolate Chip Crunches. “I’ll bring these in as soon as they’re cool.”

“Thanks.” Hannah went back through the swinging door again and unlocked the street door to the coffee shop. She flipped the “Closed” sign in the window to “Open,” and checked the cash register to make sure there was plenty of change. She’d just finished setting out small baskets of sugar packets and artificial sweeteners when a late-model dark green Volvo pulled up in the spot by the front door.

Hannah frowned as the driver’s door opened and her middle sister, Andrea, slid out of the driver’s seat. Andrea looked perfectly gorgeous in a green tweed jacket with politically correct fake fur around the collar. Her blond hair was swept up in a shining knot on the top of her head and she could have stepped from the pages of a glamour magazine. Even though Hannah’s friends insisted that she was pretty enough, just being in the same town with Andrea always made Hannah feel hopelessly frumpy and unsophisticated.

Andrea had married Bill Todd, a Winnetka County deputy sheriff, right after she’d graduated from high school. They had one daughter, Tracey, who had turned four last month. Bill was a good father on his hours away from the sheriff’s station, but Andrea had never been cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. When Tracey was only six months old, Andrea had decided that they’d needed two incomes and she’d gone to work as an agent at Lake Eden Realty.