Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(97)

“That’s part of it. Everybody’s so busy concentrating on keeping warm, they don’t have time to commit petty theft. I never double-lock the back door to The Cookie Jar in the winter. What if some homeless person is freezing outside and needs to get in out of the cold?”

Norman turned to give her a smile. “You’re a kind woman, Hannah. Foolish, but kind.”

“Well, I’ve never had any trouble, and I didn’t have any trouble this morning. As a matter of fact, whoever slept at The Cookie Jar last night got up early, did all the dishes, and mopped the floor.”

“As a thank-you for the warm place to sleep?”

“I think so. She also made us a batch of really great candy and left us the recipe. That’s what gave us the idea to offer candy over the holidays. Homemade candy is so much better than anything you can buy in the stores. And a lot of people don’t have time to make their own.”

“Good idea. If you can make English Toffee, I’ll get some for my mother for Christmas. It’s her favorite, and she’s always complaining that the kind you buy isn’t as good as the kind her mother used to make.”

“Ibby used to make English Toffee. It was really good, and she gave me a copy of her recipe.”

“Who’s Ibby?”

“A teaching assistant in the English Department. I met her when I took a graduate seminar in college. Ibby was an expert on Seventeenth-Century English Metaphysical Poets.”

“Like Donne?”

Hannah gave him a thumbs-up. “That’s right.”

“And…Traherne?”

“Right again.” Hannah was impressed. Most people had no idea who the metaphysical poets were and certainly wouldn’t be able to name two of them. “How did you know that?”

“Mother.”

“Your mother liked the metaphysical poets?”

“No, she liked ‘A Visit from Saint Nicholas.’”

“So does Mother. But what does that have to do with Donne and Traherne?”

“We had a big family Christmas every year with all the uncles, aunts, and cousins. I made the mistake of memorizing it when I was four, and every year from then on, my mother asked me to recite it.”

“That can be embarrassing, especially if you don’t want to do it,” Hannah sympathized.

“Not to mention ‘dangerous.’”

“Dangerous?”

“That’s right. My cousins didn’t like it when I was in the spotlight, and they used to give me a hard time after we were excused from dinner. I told my mother and she said to ignore them, that they were just jealous.”

“So what did you do?”

“A week before the next Christmas, I memorized four pieces from the metaphysical poets, the longest ones I could find.”

“And it worked?”

“Like a charm. My mother never asked me to recite again.”

“How about your cousins?”

“The oldest one caught on to what I was doing and told the others. We were pretty good friends after that.” Norman began to frown. “I can’t imagine anyone choosing to become an expert on the metaphysical poets.”

“I couldn’t imagine it either. But I asked Ibby and she said she chose them because there were only seven. She figured she could handle that.”

“But John Donne was prolific.”

“That’s true. And he’s not what anyone would call a ‘fun read.’ A lot of his poetry is about depressing subjects.”

“Really?” Norman gave a little grin. “You don’t think that ‘So doth each tear, Which thee doth wear, A globe, yea world, by that impression grow, Till thy tears mix’d with mine do overflow. This world, by waters sent from thee, my heaven dissolved so,’ is cheerful?”

“The imagery’s nice, but it’s about crying and that’s not a very cheerful subject.”

“You’ve got a point. So how does Ibby’s English Toffee fit into metaphysical poetry? Or does it?”

“Ibby used to bring her toffee to our study groups to make sure we all showed up. And the department loved her because nobody ever missed her sessions.”

“They should have done that in dental school. I had to force myself to go to my class in Billing and Business Management Models.” Norman pulled up in back of The Cookie Jar and took Hannah’s parking spot. “If you can find that toffee recipe, I’ll take thirty half-pound boxes.”

“For your mother?”

“Just one box for my mother. I’ll give the other twenty-nine to my patients for the holidays.”

“That’s nice of you, but…” Hannah stopped and began to frown.

“But what?”

“I don’t want to talk myself out of a big sale here, but isn’t that sending the wrong message?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re giving them candy. And candy is practically solid sugar. I thought dentists wanted their patients to avoid a lot of sugar.”

“Not necessarily. We encourage our patients to brush and floss after eating sweets, but we don’t tell them not to eat candy. If everyone ate correctly and practiced impeccable dental hygiene, there wouldn’t be any need for dentists. And then I’d be out of a job!”