Page 26 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
“Sorry. I didn’t think of picking up anything for dessert,” I said, clearing our plates.
Without answering, Nick walked into the pantry and took inventory. He emerged with his arms loaded full of supplies.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he set down sugar, chocolate chips, Rice Krispies and some other ingredients.
“Teaching you how to make one of my favorites,” he said.
“Which is?” I asked.
“Scotcheroos. They’re like Rice Krispie treats on steroids.”
For the next twenty minutes, Nick hovered by my side as he gave me step-by-step instructions on how to make a sugar and peanut butter mixture for the rice cereal that we topped with melted chocolate and butterscotch chips. It was only by chance that I had the necessary ingredients. I had gone crazy at the grocery store a couple of weeks ago then failed spectacularly at making myself cookies.
When the bars were cooling in the fridge, we sat in the living room and visited about nothing serious. I was too tired for a conversation about the past. It could wait until date four or date five.
“What do you do?” I asked, sipping my wine.
“I’m the chief at the fire department.”
“Does Prescott have a large station?” I asked, ignoring the rush of excitement I got from learning that Nick was a firefighter.
“No. I’m the only full-time paid employee. The rest of my crew are all volunteers. There’s not enough fire activity here to have a big staff. Mostly, I make sure the volunteers are up on training in case we do get a call. In the summer, we help the Forest Service with the smaller forest fires that burn too close to town.”
“Do you like it? Your job?”
“Yeah. I like the variety and I’ve got a great volunteer crew.”
“That’s good.”
“Glad you got to be a teacher like you always wanted.”
I smiled. “Me too.”
My phone rang, interrupting our conversation. Logan. I’d tried all week to get ahold of him and tell him about Nick, but every time we had connected, he had been rushing off somewhere. Of course he’d pick this moment to call me back.
“Sorry. I need to take this.” Putting the phone to my ear, I made my way out of the living room when I tripped again on that menacing wrinkle. “Shit! Damn you, evil fairies!”
“Emmeline?” Logan asked.
“Hi, I’m here. Sorry. I just tripped.”
“Do you have people over?” he asked, Nick’s laughter echoing in the background.
“Oh, uh, that’s just the TV,” I lied. “What are you doing?”
“Just pulling up to the Waldorf. I’m meeting my parents for dinner.”
“Oh.” That meant that in less than two minutes, he was going to hang up on me. Again, he was too busy for us to have a conversation.
“I really need to talk to you. Can you please call me tomorrow?” I asked.
“I’ll try. But I’m planning on brunch with Tom so we can catch up on the case. And then I’m going into the office.”
“Fine. But if you don’t call me tomorrow, I’m going around you and talking to your assistant so she can block off time on your calendar.”
“Uh, sure. Whatever you want,” he said. He was distracted and this phone call wasn’t a priority.
“Good night, Logan,” I said and didn’t wait for his reply.
