of her reading glasses.“Any tips for the centerpiece composition itself?”
I gave a shrug. “You’re more creative with this type of thing than I am.That simple arrangement you made last Christmas with the pine boughs and the small gold-spray-painted pumpkins and gourds was glorious.”
She grinned at me.“Thank you!”
“But, in general, I love fresh-cut flowers, candles . . . the classics. I’m partial to crystal or porcelain bowls and vases. But ceramics can be wonderful, too. When it comes to everyday centerpieces, I like the old standbys . . . the bowl of fresh fruit for an everyday centerpiece, the fresh-cut flowers in an attractive vase . . . one that doesn’t tip over easily.”
Audrey nodded, but she was still looking at me expectantly, so I continued. “If this is a dinner party where people don’t necessarily know one another well, an unusual centerpiece can be a nice conversation starter. The only type of centerpiece I truly hate is a big, tall contraption where you have to crane your neck to see someone seated on the opposite side.” I paused.“Or are you primarily interested in talking about centerpieces for special occasions?”
She winked. “That’s okay, dear. Special occasions are my forte.” Indeed, most of the arrangements that she’d done in this room were clearly intended for Easter. She’d used pastel colors for her flowers, dyed eggs, even some jelly beans. One especially nice arrangement incorporated a mirror base and a string of tiny white lights.
She closed her notebook. “Heard anything new from Wonder Woman?”
“Pardon?”
“Your guest from my presentation last night. The one who sent that odd-looking young man flying across the room. Did she ever call you back?” She rose and stretched.“And was she all right?”
“Physically, yes. In all other areas, the jury’s still out.”
“Have you eaten dinner already?” Audrey asked absently, glancing at her watch. Apparently she’d already lost interest in hearing about Laura.
“No, I have to—”
“You’re in luck,” she called as she left the room. “We had Chef Michael on today’s show.”
That cheered me up immediately.“Yum!” I said quietly to Hildi as she stepped off my lap to follow Audrey into the kitchen.“Dom-Bliss leftovers!”
The scents as I entered the kitchen made my mouth water. Even without the delectable aromas, this spacious room was utterly scrumptious, its colors, textures, and glittering surfaces making such a glorious feast for the eye. A red-to-yellow palette brought such warmth to the room—from the coppery-red hues of the maple floor and copper oven range hood to the creamy ivory walls above stately yellow-ocher ceramic tiles. Clear-glass-and-white-wood cabinet doors lovingly mimicked Audrey’s eight-pane windows, giving such a clean, airy feel to the space. On the kitchen island, below the regal oval-shaped antique copper chandelier with its lovely alabaster ceramic candles, a Naples yellow bowl filled with Macintosh apples served as the centerpiece.
“What can I contribute?” I asked, heading toward the spotless stainless-steel refrigerator. “A spinach salad, maybe?”
Audrey removed a steaming dish from the oven and replied, “Absolutely.” She set the dish on the Caledonia granite countertop near an indigo glass vase that brimmed with marigolds.“Plus all the details.”
“Details?”
“About your enigmatic, judo-flipping friend.” She turned to face me.“You didn’t actually think I was going to let you off the hook with that skimpy story, did you?”
I had no good response to that question, so I merely gave her a sheepish smile, feeling my cheeks grow warm. Lately I seemed to be making a regular habit of misjudging people.
“Honestly, Erin! Do you think that Hildi is the only one around this joint with a little healthy curiosity?” She gestured for me to get going by drawing circles in the air with her poppy-patterned oven mitt. “Now, start at the
I gave a shrug. “You’re more creative with this type of thing than I am.That simple arrangement you made last Christmas with the pine boughs and the small gold-spray-painted pumpkins and gourds was glorious.”
She grinned at me.“Thank you!”
“But, in general, I love fresh-cut flowers, candles . . . the classics. I’m partial to crystal or porcelain bowls and vases. But ceramics can be wonderful, too. When it comes to everyday centerpieces, I like the old standbys . . . the bowl of fresh fruit for an everyday centerpiece, the fresh-cut flowers in an attractive vase . . . one that doesn’t tip over easily.”
Audrey nodded, but she was still looking at me expectantly, so I continued. “If this is a dinner party where people don’t necessarily know one another well, an unusual centerpiece can be a nice conversation starter. The only type of centerpiece I truly hate is a big, tall contraption where you have to crane your neck to see someone seated on the opposite side.” I paused.“Or are you primarily interested in talking about centerpieces for special occasions?”
She winked. “That’s okay, dear. Special occasions are my forte.” Indeed, most of the arrangements that she’d done in this room were clearly intended for Easter. She’d used pastel colors for her flowers, dyed eggs, even some jelly beans. One especially nice arrangement incorporated a mirror base and a string of tiny white lights.
She closed her notebook. “Heard anything new from Wonder Woman?”
“Pardon?”
“Your guest from my presentation last night. The one who sent that odd-looking young man flying across the room. Did she ever call you back?” She rose and stretched.“And was she all right?”
“Physically, yes. In all other areas, the jury’s still out.”
“Have you eaten dinner already?” Audrey asked absently, glancing at her watch. Apparently she’d already lost interest in hearing about Laura.
“No, I have to—”
“You’re in luck,” she called as she left the room. “We had Chef Michael on today’s show.”
That cheered me up immediately.“Yum!” I said quietly to Hildi as she stepped off my lap to follow Audrey into the kitchen.“Dom-Bliss leftovers!”
The scents as I entered the kitchen made my mouth water. Even without the delectable aromas, this spacious room was utterly scrumptious, its colors, textures, and glittering surfaces making such a glorious feast for the eye. A red-to-yellow palette brought such warmth to the room—from the coppery-red hues of the maple floor and copper oven range hood to the creamy ivory walls above stately yellow-ocher ceramic tiles. Clear-glass-and-white-wood cabinet doors lovingly mimicked Audrey’s eight-pane windows, giving such a clean, airy feel to the space. On the kitchen island, below the regal oval-shaped antique copper chandelier with its lovely alabaster ceramic candles, a Naples yellow bowl filled with Macintosh apples served as the centerpiece.
“What can I contribute?” I asked, heading toward the spotless stainless-steel refrigerator. “A spinach salad, maybe?”
Audrey removed a steaming dish from the oven and replied, “Absolutely.” She set the dish on the Caledonia granite countertop near an indigo glass vase that brimmed with marigolds.“Plus all the details.”
“Details?”
“About your enigmatic, judo-flipping friend.” She turned to face me.“You didn’t actually think I was going to let you off the hook with that skimpy story, did you?”
I had no good response to that question, so I merely gave her a sheepish smile, feeling my cheeks grow warm. Lately I seemed to be making a regular habit of misjudging people.
“Honestly, Erin! Do you think that Hildi is the only one around this joint with a little healthy curiosity?” She gestured for me to get going by drawing circles in the air with her poppy-patterned oven mitt. “Now, start at the
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