Read Online A Catered Mother's Day by Isis Crawford - Free Book Online Page B

had been a little after three in the morning when Sean had finally calmed down enough to be able to drift off, while Libby and Bernie had come up from downstairs after two-thirty, which was when they had finished boxing up the macaroons. Even though they’d both had trouble keeping their eyes open, they couldn’t fall asleep and, once they finally did, they had both tossed and turned in their beds for the rest of the night. Neither one could get the picture of the dead man lying on the bed out of their minds. There was something about him, both sisters agreed, something nibbling at the corners of their minds. But what it was neither Libby nor Bernie knew.
    RING. The doorbell went off again. Libby could see Ethan, Ellen’s youngest son, pushing on it.
    â€œWhat is going on?” Sean barked as he stalked out of his bedroom.
    Libby explained.
    â€œWhat the hell do they want?”
    â€œI’m guessing to talk to us about their mom,” Libby replied.
    â€œWell, I don’t want to talk to them,” Sean declared. “Tell them to go away or I’ll come down and shoot them.”
    â€œI don’t want to talk to them either, Dad, but I think we have to.”
    â€œI’m serious,” her father said.
    â€œSo am I. I’ll ask them to come back later.”
    â€œYou do that.”
    â€œI will.” Libby had too much to do to deal with Ellen Hadley’s children right now, especially with Bernie semi-out of commission. She had to start prepping for Mother’s Day. She had to slice up the bread, start it soaking, sauté the spinach, and cube the Gruyère for the strata. Then she had to make the filling for the chocolate babka: roll out the babka dough, put the filling in it, roll it back up, braid it, and allow it to rise for another hour before she put it in the oven.
    Lastly, she had to make the Grand Marnier syrup and slice the navel oranges that would be served with it. Libby loved the dish. It was truly beautiful. The oranges looked like cut glass, but she wished she wasn’t making it today because julienning the rind was extremely time consuming. This, of course, was in addition to all the rest of her prep. In fact, just thinking about everything she had to do before they opened the shop made her feel like going back to bed and putting her head under her pillow.
    Well, she couldn’t do that, but she could wake Bernie up and have her peel the potatoes for the Spanish sausage and potato omelet they were serving. Libby was just about to knock on Bernie’s door when her sister came out of her room.
    â€œWho is making all that racket?” Bernie demanded.
    â€œEthan,” said Libby.
    Bernie flipped her hair out of her eyes. “Ethan?”
    â€œEllen Hadley’s son,” Libby explained. “The youngest one.”
    â€œGod, I hope everything is all right.” Bernie tied her bathrobe sash. Her bathrobe was a peach-colored silk and matched her nightgown. She’d gotten it on sale from one of the fancy lingerie stores on Madison Avenue and it was still one of her favorites.
    Libby snorted. “Not in this case. They probably dragged Ellen off to jail. Or maybe she’s found another body somewhere and she wants us to come over and dispose of it.”
    â€œThat’s rather harsh, Libby.”
    â€œGiven last night, I don’t think so, Bernie.”
    Sean smoothed his hair down with the flat of his hand. “Well, all I can say is one of you better go down and tell Ethan to stop making so much noise before he wakes up the neighborhood.”
    Ethan leaned on the bell again.
    Bernie pointed to her ankle. “I’d go but . . .”
    Libby held up her hand. “I know. I get it.”
    â€œIt’s not my fault,” Bernie protested.
    â€œActually, this is your fault,” Libby countered.
    â€œI don’t care whose fault it is,” Sean snapped. “One of you needs to get down there