Holiday Escort by Julia P. Lynde Read Free Book Online Page A

and a book," Laurie offered.
    "Alaska isn't a weekend destination," I said. "Would you be happy with a week or two of reading books?"
    She frowned. I turned to David. "You definitely need to go, but you're going to need to bribe her. What is your objection to Paris?"
    "Museums?" He said. "Tourist traps. The Eiffle Tower? It's a long way to go just to play tourist."
    "The food is fabulous," I said. "I love sitting in the sidewalk cafes."
    He didn't look convinced.
    I looked between the two of them. "You could do a compromise vacation. Spend some time in Paris, then take the train to Switzerland or Austria and spend time hiking through the alps . See the Matterhorn. Stay in a remote mountain c halet. It c ould be very romantic."
    The two of them looked at each other, speaking without words the way couples do.
    "Or you can find a way to bribe each other. Go to Paris this year and Alaska next year." I turned to Laurie. "You need to let him have his Alaska vacation at some point." I turned to David. "And you need to take her to Paris." I paused. "You might both be surprised by how much you enjoy the two places."
    We talked for several minutes. I couldn't answer all their questions, but I did what I could. They didn't come to any decisions while we were talking, but I had given them more to think about it.
    A short while later I turned to Karen and said, " Snookie kins ."
    "Yes, sugar lips?"
    I smiled. "Can we dance now?"
    "Yes," she said. "But only because you've been so charming with everyone."
    * * *
    I continued to flirt with her the rest of the night. We eventually found ourselves back in her car, and I continued to flirt shamelessly. "I think you can drop out of character now," she said, frowning at me as she put the car into gear and we drove away. She didn't say it very kindly.
    "All right," I said quietly. Up until then, I'd been having fun. I thought she had been, too. It was a stupid reaction on my part. I was her fake girlfriend, not her real girlfriend, so it shouldn't have bothered me that she'd asked me to quit. I sat quietly for the ride home.
    We got home and I caught her in the kitchen. "Did I embarrass you tonight?"
    "What?" I think she'd been thinking of something else. I watched her catch up to my question. "No. You were brilliant. Why did you think I was embarrassed?"
    "Nothing. Good night."

Keeping Things Welcoming
    Our routine settled in. I made the house look as much like a welcoming home as I could. I cooked dinners that were flexible so they'd still be good regardless of when Karen got home. I did more cooking than I'd ever done in my entire life , and I decided I liked it.
    I took to baking in the late afternoons so that the house would always smell wonderful when Karen got home. I sent her to work each day with baked goods to share with the office. The third time I did it, Karen asked me about it.
    "It's no big deal," I said. "I thought you would like how the house smelled, that's all." She looked away and I thought maybe she was upset with me. "I should have asked. You may not have wanted me to spend the money on groceries. I can stop."
    "Madeline, it's a very sweet gesture. I hope you won't stop." She paused. "My grandmother used to make something. Have you heard of krumkake ?"
    "I'd have to buy an iron for it," I told her, smiling.
    The next night she came home to fresh-baked krumkake . I didn't let her see the failures. She walked in at seven fifteen looking exhausted, then she saw the tray of krumkake sitting on the center island in the kitchen. Her eyes lit up and she looked at me in amazement.
    Krumkake are a Scandinavian cookie. They are made on an iron similar to a waffle iron, although very thin. While still hot, you can wrap them around a wooden cone. They cool in that shape. I had dusted these with powdered sugar. I had to play with the recipe. I didn't like the recipe that came with the krumkake iron I had purchased. I thought the results were a little thick and doughy. I was pretty