Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (21 page)

Ted looked like he might cry. "Why?"

I hopped off my stool and closed all the cabinet doors. "It dawned on me that I’m pregnant. I mean, I’m really pregnant. I can’t have that stuff laying around and tempting me." I smiled at him and patted my belly. "Not good for the babies, right kids? And just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I want to be fat." Ted moved his lips but no words came out. I slid my arms around his neck. "You’re always saying that we should do what’s best for the babies. That I should eat right and take better care of myself. And I agree, I haven’t been taking good care of myself. So, it had to be done."

Ted pouted. "But I’m not pregnant."

I laughed and poked his chest. "If I am, you are, mister. So, we’re going to live right and eat healthy. Okay?"

"No pizza? No guac and chips?"

"Nada."

"No takeout?"

"Gives me heartburn."

"Then what am I going to eat?"

"Whatever I eat."

He twisted his lips and squinted at me. "Not fair."

I pinched his butt. "I’ll tell you what, honey. When I’m pushing your big-headed babies out of me, we’ll talk about what’s fair. Okay?"

"Damn, you’re good."

On Tuesday morning, Matt arrived early for his baking lesson and just as I was serving breakfast — Jordans have impeccable timing. Ted was so depressed about losing his junk food that I promised we’d make him two pumpkin pies. He cheered up then bent down and kissed me. "Have a good day." To Matt he said, "Did you bring it?"

Hunched over a plate of pancakes like a dog protecting a bone, Matt nodded. "Yup, outside."

Neither offered an explanation, but they were always doing favors for each other, so I didn’t give their bro-speak another thought.

Ted bent down, kissed my belly and said, "See you later, kids." He dodged a swat and left the house singing "It’s a Family Affair."

I went into my office to fetch my shopping list — when I returned I found a smiling Matt and two shopping bags on my butcher-block. I squinted at the bags. "What’s this?"

He laughed and dumped the contents out on the countertop. "Like Christmas, right?" He took his empty plate to the sink. "Mom and Ginny say, enjoy."

Not even four months pregnant yet, I flinched at the sight of maternity clothes. Then I looked down at the ratty sweats I was wearing and wondered how I had to the nerve to be insulted. I picked up a green tee shirt — it was kind of cute. A stylish turquoise jacket caught my eye. The fashion girl inside me purred. "What the hell?" I gave in and pawed through all of it. There were a few rejects but most of the clothes were nice and stylish — for fat pregnant lady clothes. I put everything back in the bags. "Tell them I said thanks." The voice in my head screamed ‘You’re pregnant! Get over it!’ I sighed and said, "Let’s put them away before we leave."

Matt helped me carry the bags to the back room. When I opened the door, he knitted his brow. "You having a garage sale or what?"

I shook my head. "It’s all the stuff from my old house." I frowned at the huddled boxes and dismantled furniture and wondered how it avoided the big purge from the day before. "Not quite ready to give it away."

Matt studied the room, tapping his nose with his finger. "Then why don’t you use it?" Blank stare. Matt laughed. "Yeah, just make yourself a sweet little girl-cave."

I snickered. "Ted would love that."

He shrugged. "Bro won’t care. It’s better than it sitting around in boxes, right?"

Matt was excellent at pointing out the obvious. He volunteered to help me put it together after our lesson. I nodded. "Okay, let’s do it. And speaking of doing it, if you want a baking lesson, we need to shop." I hustled Matt out the door and stopped when I saw a white Toyota 4Runner parked in front of the house. "What’s that?"

Matt unlocked the car with a key fob and opened the driver’s door. "Your new ride." He curled a finger at me. "Come on man, check it out."

I scanned the street for my Toyota. "Where’s my car?"

"This is your car."

I shook my head. "No, my other car."

Matt shrugged and held open the door for me. "All I know is Ted wanted me to swing by the shop and pick up your new car on the way."

Wily husband had struck again. Done with arguing about what a death trap my old Toyota was, Ted had towed it away and replaced it with the compact SUV. It looked brand new, had lots of cargo room in the back and plenty of room for two car seats in the backseat. "Payback, huh honey?" I muttered. I threw out his junk food, and he replaced my car.
Touché’ husband.
I opened my hand and Matt dropped the keys in it. "Okay, let’s see what this baby can do."

We spent the morning shopping and got back to the house at lunchtime. I didn’t want to admit it but the 4Runner came in handy — with the backseat folded down, it held everything we bought, with room to spare. After lunch, we started our baking lesson. Matt was a little miffed that all we did was make pie crusts, but he had to get the basics in first. While he practiced rolling, I made Ted’s pies and made one for Matt too.

Matt learned quickly, and unlike his brother had the nimble hands of a natural chef. He churned out the crusts like he’d been doing it all his life. When the crusts were finished, we double wrapped them in damp cheesecloth, sealed them with plastic wrap and stored them in the walk-in. We finished by mid-afternoon, then shared blueberry smoothies to celebrate. "Damn, you are one awesome kitchen bitch, Matt."

"That was fun, man." He slurped the rest of his smoothie and eyed the three pumpkin pies on the back counter. "Is one of those for me?"

I laughed. "Yes, that’s your reward for being a good little baking student."

Matt nodded and grinned. "Awesome." He rinsed our glasses and racked them in the dishwasher then took off his apron and tossed it to me. "So, we ready?"

I tossed our aprons, and the dirty towels into the washing machine and started it. "Ready for what?"

"Your girl-cave."

I glanced at the stove clock. "Ted will be home in a couple of hours."

Matt led me out of the kitchen. "Then we better hurry." He put things together so quickly, it was like time-lapse photography. No doubt, he and his brothers had lots of practice unpacking and assembling furniture, since they were a family of military brats.

The room was a ten by twelve rectangle, with two windows on the north wall. We arranged the room in vignettes. My tables, chairs and bookcases were grouped as sitting/eating/study area — a lace tablecloth, throw pillows and a brass lamp cozied it up. On the other side of the room the bed was grouped with a side table, chest of drawers and a lamp. A little reading nook was created with an easy chair, a floor lamp and a smaller bookcase. And the cedar chest that held my wedding dress, wedding photos and other mementos was to the right of the door, topped with a cushion in case Boomer needed yet another place to nap. I loved being surrounded by my own things again. My girl-cave would be a place where I could brood, nap, or hang out when I felt homesick. Once I got really pregnant, I’d have a place to nap, without having to climb stairs.

Matt and I admired the room from the doorway. "Looks cozy."

I hugged my baby-brother-in-law. "Thanks bro, I needed this."

<<>>

I was basting the chicken when Ted stuck his arm in the door and waved a white hankie. "Very funny."

He came inside and picked me up in a bear-hug. "Hello wife." He gave me a big smacking kiss on the mouth. "Mad at me?"

"Put me down. I’m a human being, not a doll."

Ted set me on my feet. "You’re my little doll." He checked out my new outfit — a pair of soft green corduroy leggings and a green ‘baby on board’ tee shirt. "Did somebody go shopping for something besides baking supplies?"

I held out my arms and twirled. "Do you like it? You’re not the only one who surprised me today."

Ted nuzzled my neck and said, "Do you like your new car?"

I frowned at him. "What happened to my old car?"

"Sorry honey, it was terminal. We gave it a nice service and sent it off to the sacred burial grounds."

I poked his chest with a finger. "You could’ve asked."

"I’ve been asking for months." He tickled me. "Admit it. You love it."

I rested my butt on the edge of a stool. "I don’t hate it."

Ted rubbed my shoulders. "No way were you going to drive the babies around in your old clunker."

I pouted, but he was right. "Quit gloating. The new car is okay, I drove it, there’s plenty of room for baking supplies and twins. End of story."

Ted bent his head to my belly and said, "Where’d Mommy get the new duds, kids?"

Laughing, I pushed him away. "Are you going to talk to my belly for the next five months?"

Ted held out his arms. "I need somebody to tell me what’s happening around here."

The timer buzzed, and I pulled dinner out of the oven. "Ginny and your mom sent the clothes." I crossed my eyes. "I guess they were tired of seeing me wearing the same rags too."

Ted sniffed the air and turned to the back counters. "Are those my pies?"

I imitated him. "Yes, dear. You can stop whining about your cheese puffs now." I glanced over my shoulder. "And if Matt keeps going the way he did today, they’ll be lots of treats in the future."

We finished dinner and Ted had three pieces of pumpkin pie for desert. As he worked on his last piece of pie, he stared at the pantry door. "What’s in there?"

I cleared the dishes and took them to the sink. "A good chef never divulges her secrets."

"Is that why you changed the combination on the door? Afraid I’ll give away your secrets?"

"I’m afraid you’ll eat all the profits." I shook my head. "When it comes to food, you’re just a bigger version of Zelda."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "But I offer fringe benefits." I rolled my eyes, then racked the dishes in the dishwasher. "So Matt was a good student, huh?"

I nodded. "Yeah, very good. He may have a future in the food business." Ted grinned like a proud papa. "Oh, that makes you happy huh?"

He shrugged. "We’ve got a family food business, why wouldn’t it make me happy?"

I chuckled. "So what, you think Matt’s going to wiggle his way into my business?"

Ted licked pumpkin custard off the back of his fork. "Is that such a bad idea?" He looked up from his pie. "Look, Matt’s a good kid, but he’s coasted most of his life. He surfs. He fools around with a band. He cuts as many classes as he attends. Sure, I’m happy that he might want to work with you."

I squinted at Ted. "All the better if that means your pregnant wife could work less? Maybe not go out on the truck at all?"

Ted put down his fork and pushed his plate aside. "You know how this works, right? You’re going to get more pregnant. And more tired. Shouldn’t I be glad that maybe Matt could pick up some of the slack while you grow us a couple of healthy babies?"

I plopped onto a stool. "In most countries women are working in the fields up to the time they give birth."

Ted pulled me into his arms and nuzzled my neck. "I don’t care about other women, I only care about you."

I pulled away from him and pointed a finger. "I’m not giving up my business."

Ted reared back. "Who’s asking you to give up your business?"

I jabbed my finger at him. "You’ve already got the idea of Matt taking my job on the truck swirling around in your head. What’s next? Give him my recipe files so he can replace me as the chef too? You’d like that wouldn’t you?"

Ted rubbed his forehead and sighed. "No, I wouldn’t like that."

I stabbed a finger in the air. "Good, because it’s not going to happen." As I pushed through the kitchen door I said, "That’s never going to happen."

"Scotti, come back here." When he came out of the kitchen, I was already in my girl-cave fuming. He tramped up the stairs, calling my name. He tramped down the stairs, calling my name. "Where the hell are you?" It took a few minutes, but he finally found me. "What’s this?"

"My room."

Ted ventured a few steps inside the room. "Looks nice."

"Thank you."

He stepped to the foot of the bed. "Now you have a place to go when you’re pissed at me?" He ducked away from the pillow I threw at him then sat on the bed and rubbed my leg. "Come on, Scotti."

I pulled my leg under me. "Come on what, Ted?"

He scooted next me on the bed. "I’m not masterminding a takeover of your business. Least of all with Matt as my pawn." I said nothing and stared at the wall. "If the situation were reversed you’d feel the same way."

I glared at him. "You mean if you were pregnant?"

He sighed. "No smartass, I mean if I were sick or injured. You’d want me to cut back my schedule. You’d expect Steve to pick up the slack and take some of the pressure off me."

"But I’m not sick or injured. I’m pregnant." Frustrated, I looked into his eyes. "You’re treating me like I’m an invalid."

He nodded. "Fair enough. Maybe I am being too protective. But I want us to have options." I opened my mouth to protest, but he pressed his finger to my lips. "It’s possible you’ll pull off the pregnancy without a hitch. And do everything you’ve always done, no problem. But it’s just as possible that you won’t, isn’t it?" He shrugged. "If Matt can pick up some of the slack then how is that a bad thing?"