Assaulted Caramel Read online

  My chest tightened as if an unseen hand had cranked the vise just a little more tightly, and even though I didn’t want to, I asked, “The prognosis?”

  He only shook his head. Then he turned and descended the stairs to the shop’s main floor.

  I stood there, staring down the narrow stairwell with a hand covering my heart. I didn’t know if I was covering it in protection or prayer. I glanced over my shoulder at the doorway that led to my grandparents’ bedroom. Maybe now was a good time to start praying, assuming I still knew how to do it. I dropped my hand and headed back to the bedroom.

  “No, Clara,” Daadi said. “I am not going back to the hospital. They have told us before there is nothing more to be done. Let it be. I would rather spend what little time I have left on this earth with you, here in our home.”

  Tears gathered in my grandmother’s blue eyes, the same color as my own. “Ya, you are right, Jebidiah.”

  He gave her a weak smile. “I will savor that, because it is a rare thing, indeed, for you to tell me I am right.”

  She frowned. “Do not joke at such a time.”

  “Jokes are always welcome. Even the gut Lord laughs.” He noticed me standing in the doorway. “There’s my girl. Come closer and tell me why you are here.”

  I sat on the edge of his bed, careful not to disturb him. “I came to see you. I heard you were unwell.”

  Weakly, he shook his finger at Maami and me. “I think the two of you have been up to something.”

  Maami lifted her chin. “I called Bailey when you were in the hospital. She is your granddaughter and has a right to know.”

  “I agree. Bailey has a right to know,” Daadi said, and then turned his head on the pillow toward me. “But you should not have come. Don’t you have the chocolate man vote this week?”

  I smiled, touched that my grandfather would remember the pending head chocolatier announcement at such a time. “I’ve never heard it called that before, but yes, the selection committee is voting on who will be the next head chocolatier at JP Chocolates. The announcement will be made Monday morning.”

  Daadi tried to sit up, but Maami and I both pushed him back onto the pillows. “Then why are you here?” he asked. “You should be in New York, making chocolate castles to wow the committee. Don’t give them any reason to consider another chocolatier.”

  My hand remained on his shoulder. “It’s not as important as being here with you.”

  “Hogwash,” Daadi snapped, some of the fire back in his eyes. “It’s all you have written to us about for the last five years. You can’t fool me into thinking it is no longer important to you, now that I am under the weather.”

  “You’re more than under the weather, Daadi.” I held his cold, wrinkled hand in mine. “And you’re more important than a silly job.”

  He grunted, but his face broke into a smile. I found myself smiling too.

  Maami stood up and smoothed a wrinkle out of her plain lavender dress. “I’ll let the two of you argue about this and make some tea. I’ll put double sugar in yours, Bailey.” She winked at me. “Don’t think I forgot your sweet tooth.”

  I smiled my thanks.

  Maami closed the door after her. When I heard her footsteps fade, I asked, “Daadi, before you fell, you were talking to a man. Who was that?”

  Daadi opened his eyes and stared at me like he was looking through me. It was almost as if he was searching his mind for the memory. That frightened me, because the incident in front of Swissmen Sweets had been less than three hours ago. He smiled. “Oh, ya, that was Tyson Colton. He’s a developer in the county. He wants to buy the candy shop. He’s already bought the two shops on either side of me.”

  There was a cheese shop on the right of Swissmen Sweets and a tiny pretzel shop on the left.

  “What? Why?” I wondered if I should be questioning him about this Tyson Colton character at this time.

  My grandfather focused on me. “Because he wants to make money. What other reason do Englischers need to take away Amish property? He knows that I have the best location in the village, and since it is the best, he wants it.”

  “How much is he offering?” I held my grandfather’s hand a little more tightly.

  “More money than I would ever have a use for, or want. I told him he could double his amount, and I still wouldn’t sell.”

  I knew he wouldn’t like to hear what I had to say next, but I had to share it. “If he is offering you a significant amount of money, then you could retire and take it easy. You could take better care of your health. You work too hard.”

  My grandfather frowned. “Gott made us to work for His Kingdom. I will rest when I pass on.”

  I bit the inside of my lip. I didn’t like the sound of that. My grandfather’s mind was made up, and arguing the point with him would only upset him more, which wouldn’t be good for his failing heart.

  He covered my hand with his. “Do not worry, my girl. All will work out as it should. Gott has had this moment planned from the beginning.”

  What moment did he mean? The offer from Tyson? Or Daadi’s failing health? All will work out as it should? To quote my grandfather, hogwash! If the doctor’s frown had been any indication, that was not to be.

  “Do you want me to email Mom and Dad?” I asked. “They’re somewhere in Italy right now, but they would want to know you are ill.”

  He struggled to sit up some more. “Nee. Don’t bother them. They have waited for their trip for a very long time. Your maami should not have bothered you either. I will be fine. You go back and make those fancy chocolates. It’s your dream. I’m not going to get in the way of what you’ve worked so hard for. I like to think it’s a little bit of me that makes you so gut with chocolate.”

  “It’s more than a little bit,” I whispered.

  “Then go back and get that head chocolate person job for me, if you can’t do it for yourself.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes. “If your strength is up, I’ll leave the day after tomorrow, but I’ll be back just as soon as I can after the head chocolatier is announced.”

  He smiled. “All right then, if returning will make you feel better, you have my blessing.”

  Maami pushed opened the bedroom door and came in with a tea tray. “I brought you some hot broth too, Jebidiah.”

  My grandfather grimaced.

  Maami squinted her blue eyes at him. “Don’t you make that face at me, Jebidiah King! You will drink this broth. Nothing warms you all the way through like hot chicken broth.”

  Grandfather winked at me. “She is always telling me what to do.”

  Maami set the tray on a side table and cupped the bowl of broth in her hands.

  I reached for it. “Let me.”

  She smiled and gave me the bowl. I dipped the spoon into the hot broth and held it up. “Here, Daadi.”

  He smiled. “Clara, did you see how beautiful our Bailey has become?”

  “I did,” my grandmother said.

  I felt myself blush, and I fed my grandfather the broth.

  Chapter 3

  A little while later, after Daadi had drunk enough broth to satisfy my grandmother, he dozed off.

  I picked up the tea tray and crept down the stairs. The stairs from the living quarters ended in a short hallway that opened directly into the candy shop. I stood there for a moment, admiring the room in which I had fallen in love with chocolate as a little girl. Along the walls, maple shelves held glass jars filled with every kind of candy you could imagine, from mints to licorice to caramels.

  However, the pride of the shop was my grandfather’s signature fudge, and it was displayed front and center in a ten-foot-long glass case that doubled as the sales counter. Inside the display case there were dozens of trays of fudge: milk chocolate, rocky road, Neapolitan, maple, pumpkin, blueberry, peanut butter, and so many more. Even though I worked with chocolate every day, my mouth still watered when I saw all those trays of fudge, and the memories of my grandfather sneaking me pieces of fudge o
n summer evenings before dinner when Maami wasn’t looking brought a smile to my face. As many times as I tried to duplicate my grandfather’s fudge in New York, it didn’t taste quite the same as that made by his own hand. I bit the inside of my lip. How much longer would he be able to make it?

  Maami smiled at me over the glass counter. “Want a piece?”

  I nodded. If anything, eating the fudge would give me something else to do other than worry over my grandfather’s health.

  She laughed and lifted the plank of wood at the end of the counter that divided the work area from the public. “Then come on back and pick your own. Being a chocolatier, I suppose you know how to cut chocolate.”

  “I sure hope so, or JP Chocolates will be in big trouble.” I stepped around the counter, slid the glass door back on the display case, and removed a tray of fudge. I set the tray on the counter behind me and picked up the chocolate knife from the white cutting block. It had a long, curved eight-inch blade with a sharp hook on the end, which pointed back toward the handle. It was perfect for cutting huge blocks of chocolate. I had found it in a specialty cooking shop in New York. It had cost me a small fortune.

  “Daadi uses the knife I gave him?” I asked, feeling pleased. Finding Christmas and birthday gifts for my grandparents was always a challenge. The Amish only wanted practical things, and their estimation of what was practical was far different from any English person’s I knew.

  She smiled. “He refuses to use any other knife. If it is dirty, he waits for me to wash it before he will cut anything.”

  I grinned and set the knife on the cutting board next to the piece of fudge. “I’m glad.”

  Maami hugged me. “And I’m glad you’re here. You being here, even for a little while, lifts Jebediah’s spirits so.”

  I hugged her back. “Danki.”

  She laughed when I used the Pennsylvania Dutch word for thank you.

  I cut a generous piece of salted caramel fudge—my favorite of Daadi’s recipes—and was taking a huge bite when a man in a sheriff’s department uniform stepped into the shop.

  He was followed by an older, bald officer who hung back by the front door. The men wore identical khaki uniforms, but the man by the door had a golden eagle pin on the breast pocket. I noticed it because it caught the sunlight streaming in through the candy shop’s front window when the older man turned away and walked back out the door.

  My heart skipped a beat when the first officer smiled at me. He had dark brown hair and eyes, and he was tall, really tall. In his case, what they say about a man looking good in uniform was spot on.

  “Hello there,” he said.

  I tried to swallow and nearly choked on the piece of fudge.

  Maami smiled at the tall man. “Aiden, are you here to pick up your mother’s order?”

  His face broke into a wide smile. “That’s right, Mrs. King.”

  I coughed and spurted.

  My grandmother cocked her head. “Bailey, are you all right?”

  I nodded and covered my mouth. I shoved the piece of fudge into my cheek, so I resembled a greedy chipmunk, which is always the look a girl wants to shoot for in front of an attractive man.

  My grandmother smiled at Aiden. “I have your mother’s order right here.” She spun around and picked up a large brown shopping bag. “Have you met my granddaughter, Bailey?”

  He arched his eyebrows at my blue jeans and sweater. “Your granddaughter?”

  I nodded. My mouth was still full. My cheeks burned as the image of a foraging chipmunk returned to my mind.

  He smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.” Reaching over the counter, he accepted the bag from my grandmother.

  I nodded again. I couldn’t stop myself. It was like I was a marionette on strings.

  “Tell your mother I threw in a couple of extra blocks of maple fudge,” Maami said. “I know the ladies in her quilting circle love their sweets.”

  “You bet they do,” the deputy said. “And Mom is going to need it. She plans to keep the quilting circle at the church tomorrow for however long it takes to finish Mira’s quilt. There’s not much time left before the wedding.”

  “Two days isn’t much time at all.”

  I wanted to ask who Mira was and whose wedding they were talking about, but since my mouth was still stuffed with fudge, it was next to impossible. I turned away from them and forced down what was left of the fudge.

  The radio on the deputy’s duty belt crackled.

  He smiled. “I’d better run. Thanks for the extra treats, Mrs. King. You’re always so good to me.” He tipped his sheriff’s department ball cap at me, nodding at the chocolate knife in my hand. “You be careful with that.”

  As soon as he left, I ran into the kitchen and poured a glass of water to wash down the piece of fudge caught in my throat. My throat felt raw from swallowing the fudge so quickly.

  As I sipped on my water, my thoughts immediately went to Eric. I wondered where he was, and if he’d noticed that I had left the city. There was a fifty-fifty chance he’d never read any of the texts I’d sent him. A warm blush crept up the back of my neck over the embarrassing incident with the sheriff’s deputy. How could I even look at another man when I had a boyfriend, even if he was a secret one? I chalked the reaction up to stress over the head chocolatier announcement and my grandfather’s poor health.

  I continued to sip my water in an attempt to regain whatever dignity I had left, and I surveyed the kitchen. The floor was plain white, vinyl tile. The walls were white, and the one window in the back of the room next to the metal door that led to the alley behind Swissmen Sweets, was adorned with a navy blue, cotton curtain.

  There were no electrical outlets in my grandparent’s apartment. In their Amish district, like most, electricity wasn’t allowed in the home. However, they were allowed to use electricity for their business. There were a number of outlets around the room, with two industrial mixers and three ovens plugged into them. There weren’t any of the fancy molding machines I had back in New York. My grandparents made their candies with the barest essentials. I wondered what they would make of my chocolatier test kitchen back in New York with every modern gadget one could imagine.

  At the moment, the room was spotless, and all of the appliances were off. I knew that my grandparents did most of their candy making in the early morning before the shop opened at nine. And by early morning, I mean from four in the morning right up until opening time. The fact that my grandparents were early risers was another way in which we differed.

  “Bailey?” Maami poked her head into the kitchen. “Are you all right, my girl?”

  “I’m fine, Maami.” With my head high, I walked back through the kitchen door.

  She studied me.

  “What?” I asked as I started to pack up the piece of fudge I had cut.

  “You seemed to be a bit flustered when Aiden was here.” She made no attempt to hide her smile.

  I picked up Daadi’s knife again. “You seem to know him well.”

  She smiled. “I do.”

  Before I could ask her how, she said, “You might want to cut a smaller piece next time. You never know who might drop by.”

  I felt my cheeks grow hot again as I bent over the fudge.

  Chapter 4

  A little before one in the morning that night, I woke and reached for my cell phone on the nightstand. It wasn’t there. Then I remembered I wasn’t in my apartment in New York, but in the spare room of my grandparents’ home above their candy shop in Harvest, Ohio. My phone sat in the kitchen below, plugged into the wall. The night before, my grandmother had unplugged one of the mixers before we went to bed, so I could charge my phone.

  I lay there, debating whether to walk down to the kitchen to check my messages. Part of me was afraid to, because if there wasn’t a message from Eric, I would be crushed. That evening before going to bed, I had stepped outside and tried to call him. There had been no answer. The excuses I had made for him the day before had run out when I
still hadn’t heard from him before falling asleep. I told myself he was busy, and maybe he wasn’t somewhere he could text privately. Our relationship was a secret, so we had to be extra careful, and I reminded myself that it was a secret at my request. Eric was on JP Chocolates’ board of directors and, because of that, was a member of the head chocolatier selection committee. If it was discovered that I was dating one of the committee members and I landed the job, someone would claim that I had gotten the head chocolatier position out of favoritism. Nothing could be further from the truth. Eric didn’t cut me any breaks when it came to my desserts. In fact, he was my greatest critic. If anything, he was harder on me than anyone else.

  I rolled over and punched the pillow, but I couldn’t fall back to sleep. The situation with Eric bothered me, but not as much as my grandfather’s failing health. What would become of Swissmen Sweets if the worst happened, and he died? I couldn’t imagine Maami running the shop alone. Maybe she could have ten or fifteen years ago, but she was seventy herself.

  I punched the pillow again with a little more force this time. After giving the innocent pillow a thorough pounding, I gave up, threw back my grandmother’s quilt, and sat up. I yelped when my bare feet touched the ice-cold floor.

  I grabbed my tennis shoes, slipped them on, and wrapped a lap blanket over my shoulders before tiptoeing to the bedroom door. It creaked as I opened it, and I winced. I didn’t want to wake my grandparents.

  Finally, I opened the door wide enough to slip through. I tiptoed down the hallway past my grandparents’ bedroom. Every step I took made the floorboards squeak. I paused at the top of the narrow stairs, and when I didn’t hear anything, I went down.

  In the front room of the shop, ambient light from the gas-lit lampposts outside shone through the large front window and reflected off the refrigerated fudge case. The many flavors of fudge stood in perfectly straight lines on the glass shelves. My grandmother had straightened each tray before she went upstairs for the night. The kitchen and the sales counter were always spotless when she left them for the night. Nothing was put off for the next day in my grandparents’ shop.