“Of course they will. Nobody wants to miss the feast.”

Hannah had just refilled Norman’s coffee mug when the phone rang. She reached out to answer it. “The Cookie Jar. Hannah speaking.”

“Hello, Hannah. It’s Kurt Howe.”

“Hi, Kurt,” Hannah said, hoping that nothing was wrong. Kurt was her editor at Savory Press, and the last time he’d called, he’d asked Hannah to get the cookbook recipes ready several months before the due date in the contract she’d signed. “You’re not going to move up the deadline again, are you?”

Kurt chuckled. “No, but I do have a question about one of the recipes you submitted.”

“Which one?”

“Fudge Cupcakes. Are you sure it’s baking soda?”

“Baking soda?” Hannah began to frown.

“That’s what it says.”

“Hold on a second.” Hannah motioned for Lisa and asked her to run to the kitchen to get the master recipe list. Then she turned back to her phone call. “Lisa’s checking on it right now, but I think it’s supposed to be baking powder. Baking soda would make them puff up to high in the oven and then they’d fall like craters.”

“That’s what my publisher thought and I told her I’d check with you.”

Hannah took the three-ring binder Lisa handed her and glanced down at the Fudge Cupcake recipe. “It’s baking powder, Kurt. One and half teaspoons of baking powder.”

“That’s what we thought.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” Hannah said, her cheeks coloring in embarrassment. “I proofread all those recipes before I sent them to you, and that mistake got right past me.”

“It happens, especially when you know how it’s supposed to be written. You read right past the error and don’t notice it. But that’s only one of the reasons I called. I’m driving in for the Christmas dinner party.”

“That’s great! Then you can taste the recipes yourself!”

“I’m looking forward to it. I just got off the phone with the staff photographer. I wanted him to come along to take some food photos and some candids of the crowd for the cookbook.”

“That would be perfect, especially if he can get a picture of Mother’s antique cake knife. It’s gorgeous, Kurt, and we’re going to use it to cut one of the cakes.”

“That would have been a great photo.”

“Would have been?”

“That’s right. Our photographer can’t make it, and that means we may have to re-stage some of the food photos.”

“Maybe not,” Hannah said, glancing over at Norman. “I know a local photographer and I’m sure he’d be willing to take some photos of the party for you. Hold on and I’ll ask him.”

Norman nodded at Hannah before she could even ask. “Tell him I’ll be glad to bring my camera, but I don’t have any experience with food photography. I know it’s highly specialized.”

“I heard that,” Kurt said in Hannah’s ear. “Tell him anything he gets is all to the good. I’m going to leave the office early. If the traffic’s not terrible, I should get to Lake Eden around five or five-thirty. Where will you be?”