The Perfect Christmas - Debbie Macomber [43]
Simon returned to the living room with the others.
Then, picking up the bowl in which she planned to put the stuffing, she noticed something wrong. For a moment, all Cassie could do was stare at her hand.
No! Oh, dear. Now what?
Putting down the bowl, she opened the door slightly and peered out of the kitchen. “Simon,” she called in a deceptively casual voice. “Would you come in here for a minute?”
He gave her an odd look but did as she requested.
The instant he set foot in the kitchen, she took his arms and pulled him all the way in. “Houston, we have a problem,” she said in an urgent whisper.
“What kind of problem?”
“A very big one.” Splaying her fingers, she held out her hand. “My ring is missing.”
“Your ring.”
“Yes, my ring.”
He seemed unconcerned. “I’m sure it’s around here somewhere. Can’t you look for it later?”
“No.”
“And why not?” he asked.
“Because the last time I saw it, I was stuffing the turkey.”
“In other words…”
“Yes. In other words it’s inside the bird.”
“You’re positive?”
“No, but where else would it be?”
Simon rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.
“What am I going to do?” A dozen scenarios played in her mind, none of them the least bit amusing. If someone bit into it and broke a tooth… “I’ll be sued!” she said hoarsely, covering her eyes. “Someone might choke on it. My neighbors don’t deserve to die, even if my newspapers do turn up missing now and then.”
“Dish the stuffing into the bowl. You might find it.”
“Okay, okay.”
“And don’t panic.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered as she transferred stuffing into the bowl, inspecting each spoonful closely.
“Mrs. Mullinex is a sweet lady,” he was saying. “I don’t know why you think she’d want to cause you any trouble.”
“And Mr. Oliver?”
“He probably wouldn’t even notice if he bit into the ring, especially if you left the football game on.”
“And Bob?”
“He’d assume you were proposing marriage.”
“Very funny.”
“Oh, Cassie, I just—”
Mrs. Mullinex stuck her head into the kitchen. “Anything I can do, dear?”
“Ah, no, thanks. Everything’s fine,” Cassie assured her.
“Simon, come back and sit with me,” the older woman wheedled.
Simon turned away from the counter and offered Mrs. Mullinex his arm, then threw Cassie a look that told her she was on her own.
A lot of help he’d been.
No sooner had Simon left than the door opened again. This time it was Bob.
“So,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “It’s just the two of us now.”
“Yes, well…” Cassie inserted the spoon inside the turkey to finish taking out the stuffing, but with Bob watching every move, she couldn’t make a huge production of plowing through it, searching for her ring.
“I’ve always loved stuffing.”
“Oh, me, too, but I’m not sure this turned out that well. I was thinking I wouldn’t serve it.”
“Let me taste.” Before she could protest, he took her spoon and helped himself to a sample. After blowing on it, he popped it into his mouth. He smiled widely in approval. “This is fabulous! The best I’ve ever tasted.”
“You’re just being kind.”
“Not at all. Here, I’ll take it out for you.”
“No,” she cried and made an effort to stop him, but to no avail. Bob carried the bowl into the dining area.
When she followed with the salads, she saw that he’d taken a forkful to Mrs. Mullinex. “Cassie says the stuffing didn’t turn out to her liking. I disagree. What do you think?”
Mrs. Mullinex gave it a dainty taste. “Perfection,” she said. “You’re being modest, Cassie.”
Mr. Oliver stood. “What’s a turkey dinner without stuffing?”
“I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s diet,” Cassie said, searching for an excuse, any excuse, to get the stuffing off the table.
Mr. Oliver raised his hand. “I’m on a low-carb diet myself.”
“Then you won’t want any of the stuffing,” Cassie said thankfully.
“I thought I’d make an exception, this being Christmas and all.”
“Oh…”
“Let’s all help,” Mrs. Mullinex suggested cheerfully. “We can bring out the rest of the serving dishes. We shouldn’t leave all the work to