“I really do like the color,” I said. “It’s warm. It’s light. It’ll make the room seem bigger.”
“Then dandelion wine it is,” she said with a smile.
“I could help you with the painting,” Avery offered. “I mean if you want some help.”
“I’d love the help,” Charlotte said. “Thank you.”
Avery smiled. “I have to tell Nonna what color we picked.”
“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.” Charlotte smiled at me over Avery’s head.
“Fine,” Nick said, staring up at the ceiling, an aggrieved tone in his voice. “Ignore my home decor advice.”
“We’re pretty much going to, dear,” his mother said. She beckoned to Avery. “I need to check the turkey.”
Nick turned to me. “You were supposed to back me up,” he said. “Didn’t you see me signaling you?” He waggled his eyebrows at me.
“Oh, that was a signal,” I said. “I thought you were having some kind of face spasm. I didn’t realize you were being all sexy.”
He laughed. “Well, next time you’ll know.”
We headed back to the living room. “How’s your investigation going?” I asked.
“I’m getting close to wrapping things up,” he said. “How’s the Angels’ investigation going?”
“They have a couple of ideas that might actually go somewhere.”
He shook his head. “You mean a guy they think was at Feast in the Field and a woman with a plaid purse who attended a money-management seminar?”
I nodded. “It’s not as far-fetched as it sounds.”
“I told you that the police are already pursuing a lead,” he said.
“Liam thinks the two of you might have talked to the guy,” I said, ignoring his implication that Alfred and the ladies were on the wrong track.
Nick sat on the arm of Charlotte’s sofa. “I know. He told me he sent Rose and Alfred some photos off his phone.” He cocked his head to one side. “Are you going to ask to see the photos on my phone?” he teased.
“I thought maybe I could be all sexy and you’d show them to me without me having to ask.”
Nick laughed. “Now I’m wishing I actually had pictures from Feast in the Field.”
“You don’t?” I said. I knew it was a long shot that Rose’s latest suspect was actually the person who had sold Edison Hall all those fake bottles, but I’d been hoping nonetheless. That was what happened when the Angels pulled me into one of their cases. They also pulled me into their particular way of looking at things.
Nick shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t have any photos on my phone. I’m kind of a dinosaur. I like a camera.” He reached out and caught my hand. “Does this mean I don’t get to see what your ‘all sexy’ is?”
I felt my face begin to get red.
Rose stuck her head around the dining room doorway then. “There you are, dear,” she said. “Charlotte’s taking the turkey out. We need to get started on the gravy.”
“I, uh, have to go,” I said, motioning in Rose’s direction. Nick let go of my hand and I started across the room, almost tripping over the coffee table. I could feel Nick’s eyes on me.
“Did I interrupt something?” Rose asked, looking up at me.
“No,” I said. “Let’s go make gravy.”
Everyone other than Nick seemed to be in the kitchen. Liam and Mr. P. had just walked in. The turkey was on a large platter, tented with foil. The roast pan was straddling one of the stove burners. Rose had a whisk, an odd-looking measuring cup, and a Mason jar of something on the counter next to the stove. I remembered Charlotte’s remark about ketchup and fervently hoped she had some in her refrigerator.
Rose clapped her hands. “Everybody out,” she said. “Sarah doesn’t need an audience while she’s cooking.” She looked toward Mr. P. and made a move-along gesture with her hand.
He started for the dining room. “Rosie’s right,” he said. “Let’s give them some space to work.”
“You’ll do just fine,” Charlotte said as she passed me.
Mr. P. held the door open and once everyone else was out of the room, he smiled at me. “Don’t worry, my dear,” he said. “You have a good teacher.” He looked at Rose. “I’ll keep them in the living room.”
She beamed at him. “Thank you, Alfred,” she said.
He disappeared into the next room and Rose turned to me.
“Sarah darling, you know I love you like you were my own,” she said solemnly, taking my hands in her own.
“I love you, too,” I said, wondering where this was going.
She looked over her shoulder seemingly to make certain no one was spying on us and then took a step closer to me. “I’m going to share with you the secret of my perfect gravy, but you have to swear that you won’t tell anyone. Ever.” She looked back over her shoulder again.
I would have laughed except she was so deadly serious. “I swear,” I promised, crossing my heart with one finger for good measure and hoping the secret wasn’t something like fried turkey livers or brains or something.
Rose took a deep breath and pulled two red packets out of the pocket of her apron.
“A mix?” I said.
“Shhhhh!” she hissed, putting her index finger to her mouth.
“I thought you could cook everything,” I whispered.
“Well, surprise. I can’t make gravy from scratch. Or pineapple upside-down cake.”
I frowned. “Wait a minute. I’ve eaten your pineapple upside-down cake.”
“You’ve eaten a pineapple upside-down cake,” she said. “And we really don’t have time to talk about that right now.”
“Okay,” I said. “What do I do?”
Rose walked me through the instructions on the back of the mix packet and in five minutes actual turkey gravy was simmering in the roaster. She handed me a spoon and I took a taste.
“It’s good,” I said in surprise.
“Of course it’s good,” she said. “The company would have gone out of business by now if it wasn’t.”
Charlotte poked her head around the door then. “How’s it going?” she asked.
I smiled at her. “Good. Really good.”
She came up behind me and leaned over my shoulder to look into the pan. “It smells wonderful,” she said.
“It tastes wonderful, too,” Rose said, handing Charlotte a spoon so she could take a taste.
“Um, that is delicious,” Charlotte exclaimed. Behind her Rose tucked the empty gravy mix packages in the pocket of her apron. Charlotte straightened up and smiled at me. “I knew you could do it,” she said. “Now, could you help me dish out the food?”
I smiled back at her. “What would you like me to do?”
“Put some hot water in the gravy boat to warm it and then put those rolls on the table.” She pointed to the counter behind me. Then she reached for the turkey platter, glancing over at Rose at the same time. “You did get Sarah to make two packages of gravy, didn’t you?” she asked.
Rose’s expression didn’t change, but her shoulders went rigid and the hand in her pocket froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, a tad stiffly.
Charlotte moved the bird to the counter, pulled off the foil that had been loosely covering it and finally looked at her friend full-on. “Rose, you haven’t made gravy completely from scratch since the seventies. Do you have one empty gravy mix in your pocket or two?”
Rose slowly withdrew her hand from her apron pocket. She was still holding the two empty packets.
“Good,” Charlotte said, leaning back to regard the golden brown turkey for a moment. “That should be enough.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Sarah, are you warming the gravy boat?”
“I’m on it,” I said.
“How long have you known?” Rose asked, somewhat indignantly, one hand on her hip.
“How long have you been buying those packages?” Charlotte countered.
“A while,” Rose hedged.
“Nineteen seventy-three,” Charlotte said, picking up the knife. She seemed to have planned her attack on the turkey.