Man With A Mission. Muriel Jensen

would you prefer something else to drink?”

      The aroma of orange and cloves wafted around them from the steaming tea.

      “This is fine,” he said. “Thank you, Bridget.”

      “Good. I’ll bring tiramisu as soon as it comes out of the kitchen.” She picked up her tray, returned a wave to Cecilia across the room and left.

      “What is that?” Rachel asked.

      Jackie was beginning to feel more like herself, in control again and steady. “It’s a cake soaked in Kah-lúa, I think, and topped with whipped cream.”

      “What’s Clua?”

      She should have guessed that was coming.

      “It’s Kah-lú-a,” she enunciated. “That’s a coffee-flavored liqueur. It’s alcohol. Sometimes people put it in their coffee or make other drinks with it.”

      Jackie was not surprised to learn she hadn’t answered all her questions.

      “If it tastes like coffee,” Rachel asked, “why do they put it in coffee? Isn’t that a lot of coffee?”

      “It doesn’t seem to be,” she replied. “It tastes wonderful.” Before Rachel could ask another question, Jackie forestalled her by pointing to a round cookie covered in powdered sugar. “Try that one next,” she encouraged. “You’ll love it.”

      Distracted, Rachel was mercifully silent as she ate.

      “I love it here, Mom!” Erica held up a macaroon drizzled with chocolate. “Is this one of those coconut cookies?”

      At Jackie’s nod, she took a careful bite, then apparently finding its taste satisfactory, took a bigger bite. She wriggled in her seat while she chewed, her eyes focused on her mother, obviously about to make a statement.

      After finally swallowing, she said eagerly, “When it’s my birthday, can we have my party here instead of at the pizza place? My friends and I can all dress up and have pots of tea. I’m going to be eleven, after all.”

      “That’s coming up, isn’t it?” Haley asked. “March something?”

      “Twentieth,” Erica said. “And instead of seeing a movie we could do something more grown-up.”