One glance at the alarm clock on her bedside table confirmed that she had, indeed, overslept. It was seven in the morning and she should have been up at four!
Hannah jumped out of bed, thrust her arms into her robe, and pulled on her slippers. There was a delicious smell coming from the kitchen, something that reminded her of Thanksgiving. Michelle must be baking. But why hadn’t she come in to wake her?
Hurrying down the carpeted hallway, Moishe at her heels, Hannah arrived at the origin of the delicious scent quite breathless.
The kitchen was deserted. Michelle was nowhere in sight. There were, however, at least a dozen aromatic scones resplendent on a wire rack on her kitchen counter. Michelle had been there. Michelle had baked. But where was she now?
A note was propped up by the sugar bowl. Hannah poured herself a quick cup of coffee and carried it to the kitchen table. When she got there, she sat down and grabbed the note.
Glad you got some sleep, Hannah, the note said. Lisa picked me up and we’re down at The Cookie Jar. Take your time. Everything’s under control. I know you’re expecting a FedEx package from Ross this morning, so Lisa and I won’t expect you until noon or later.
The scones on the counter are pumpkin with cinnamon glaze. I thought they’d be great to serve to your customers right before Thanksgiving. Let me know what you think. I put two in the microwave when I took them out of the oven. Unless you sleep until noon, they’re probably still warm.
See you when you get to work. I love you. And the note was signed, Michelle
Hannah folded the note and put it back on the table. She had a sip of coffee, took a deep breath of the sweet-smelling air, and smiled. Michelle was amazing. She had more energy than Hannah ever remembered having in her entire life. And that last sentence was the nicest part of the note. Michelle had written, I love you. Her sister’s affection made Hannah feel both blessed and very grateful.
The delicious scent of the scones drew Hannah like a magnet to the microwave where Michelle had said that there were two scones waiting for her. She opened the microwave door, took out the scones, and gave a big smile. They were still nice and warm.
There was a dish of butter on the table, so Hannah wasted no time in breaking open the scones and buttering them. She took the first bite, made a little mewling sound of intense delight, and sighed in enjoyment. Michelle’s scones were delicious, a perfect combination of spice and sweet with the fresh, almost nutty flavor of pumpkin.
After her third cup of coffee, Hannah was ready to start her day. She was about to go into the beautifully remodeled master bathroom when she realized that it was already ten minutes before eight. What time did they start to deliver FedEx packages? Hannah wasn’t sure. She was certain, however, that she wouldn’t hear the doorbell ring if the package from Ross came while she was in the shower. What if she had to sign for the package? She hadn’t thought to ask Ross about that. Ten minutes before eight would be ten minutes before nine in New York. She couldn’t call him now. He was probably in the middle of one of the interviews he was doing today.
It was decision time for Hannah. She could rush through her shower and be dressed in ten minutes. She’d showered that fast before. But if she did that, she wouldn’t have time to enjoy the incredible massaging jets that would erase the ache in her back and ease the tension in the back of her neck. It would be better to wait until she could enjoy the full benefit of the wonderful new shower.
Feeling a bit like a lazy housewife, Hannah decided to wait to shower and dress. She carried a fresh cup of coffee to the couch, set it on the coffee table, and sat down in one of the rocking and reclining leather chairs that were part of their new group of sofas.
The morning inactivity seemed very strange to Hannah as she sat there, sipping her coffee. It was comfortable and it was nice, but she felt as if she should be doing something productive. She supposed she could bake, but what if the package came at the exact time her cookies were ready to come out of the oven? The cookies might burn in the time it would take her to open the door, sign for the package, and bring it inside. She’d be better off just sitting and waiting . . . but that was something she was loathe to do. There just had to be something she could do with her time that would be useful and constructive.
She was just debating the wisdom of cleaning out the refrigerator when the doorbell rang. She jumped up and came very close to running to answer its summons. She opened the door without bothering to look through the peephole, expecting to see a uniformed FedEx delivery person, and she gave a little cry of surprise when she saw who was standing on the landing. “Mike!” Hannah gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s not exactly a welcoming greeting,” Mike said, but the corners of his mouth were twitching with humor. “I thought I’d come by to keep you company since Michelle said you were home waiting for a package.”
“Uh . . . sure. Come in, Mike.” Hannah was acutely aware that she was still in her nightclothes and robe. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee if you want some.”
“Wait a second,” Mike said as Hannah turned and headed for the kitchen. “If you’re waiting for FedEx, I saw a truck pull into the guest parking lot while I was walking up the stairs.”
The words were no sooner out of Mike’s mouth than Hannah’s doorbell rang again.
She rushed to answer it, but Mike stopped her. “The peephole, Hannah. You’ve got to get into that habit.”
“Right,” Hannah said, looking through the peephole with its fisheye lens to see a highly distorted figure in a FedEx uniform. “Coming!” she called out, releasing the deadbolt and opening the door.
“Hannah?” the deliveryman asked after glancing down at the electronic device he was carrying.
“Yes, that’s me. Is it from Ross Barton in New York?”