Raspberry Danish Murder (Hannah Swensen #22)(92)

“Hi, Aunt Hannah! Were you sleeping with your eyes open?”

It was Tracey and Hannah laughed. “I might have been. I was concentrating on those beautiful Christmas trees by the door.”

“I do that all the time when I’m reading,” Tracey confessed. “My teacher calls it out to lunch.”

“That’s a good description.”

“Hi, Hannah,” Andrea said, arriving at the counter. “Tracey ran ahead of me.”

“That’s because I’m a sprinter, Mom. There’s no way you can keep up with me. Grandma McCann said she thinks I could run a mile in less than four minutes.” Tracey turned to Hannah. “That’s pretty good, isn’t it, Aunt Hannah?”

“That’s very good. It was the record for a long time. Roger Bannister did it first in nineteen fifty-four.”

“How old was he?”

“Well . . . he was born in nineteen twenty-nine, so . . .”

“Twenty-five,” Tracey gave the answer almost immediately. “He was twenty-five, Aunt Hannah.”

Hannah was amazed, especially because Tracey was only in second grade. “How did you subtract that so fast?”

“It’s easy. All I did was say to myself, Twenty-nine is almost thirty, and thirty from fifty-four is twenty-four. Then, because you made him a year younger than he actually is, you add that year to your answer. It’s easy, Aunt Hannah, because you can go up or down, whichever way is easiest. All you have to remember is to add to or subtract from your answer.”

Andrea looked proud. “Tracey’s doing very well in math,” she said quite needlessly. “Tell your aunt Hannah your idea, Tracey. She might let us do it.”

“Mom and I want to take care of your cookie booth for an hour while you and Aunt Michelle go to the lunch buffet,” Tracey said. “We already went, and we really want to do it, Aunt Hannah. I need the practice.”

Hannah didn’t dare look at Michelle. She was almost sure her youngest sister was biting her lip, trying not to laugh. “Why do you need the practice, Tracey?”

“Because it’s a career path. I don’t know what I want to do when I grow up, but I like to bake and maybe I can open a cookie shop someday. If I do that, it’ll be good practice for me to wait on your customers today.”

“I see.” Somehow, Hannah managed to maintain a straight face. Tracey was unique. She’d never met any other second-graders who wanted to practice for a career path. “Well . . .”

“Mom says you have to eat, so it’s a perfect opportunity for me. And you and Aunt Michelle don’t have to worry that I’ll do something wrong because Mom will be right here with me.”

“What do you think, Michelle?” Hannah asked, hoping that Michelle had recovered at least part of her equilibrium.

“I think we should help Tracey out with this,” Michelle said. “And I am hungry.”

“So am I,” Hannah said, silently praising Michelle for her serious demeanor. “If it’s okay with your mom, it’s fine with us, Tracey.”

“Oh, goody!” Tracey turned to Andrea. “I told you they’d let us, Mom.” Then she turned back to Hannah. “I bought something for Grandma McCann for an early Christmas present. I’m going to give it to her as a consolation prize when we hold the gumdrop Christmas tree contest. Bethie and I are going to do it together this year, so we’re bound to win.”

“You have a gumdrop Christmas tree contest?” Michelle asked.

“Yes. It’s really fun. Mom bought us a plastic gumdrop tree with little protru . . . portrus . . .” Tracey struggled for the word and Hannah decided to help her.

“Protrusions?” Hannah asked her.

“Yes! That’s it. Good for you for knowing such a big word, Aunt Hannah. Anyway, Bethie is going to hand me the gumdrops and I’m going to put them on the pro-tru-sions on the ends of the branches. Grandma McCann has a plastic tree too, and she’s going to race against us.”

“That sounds like fun,” Michelle commented.

“It will be if Bethie doesn’t eat all the gumdrops when she takes them out of the bag. She won’t eat the purple ones. She doesn’t like those, but I don’t think we can win with a tree that’s all purple. Take a look at Grandma McCann’s consolation prize, Aunt Hannah. I want to know if you and Aunt Michelle think she’ll like it.”

Hannah took the bag that Tracey held out to her and peeked inside. Then she lifted the tissue-wrapped contents from the bag.

“It’s a cookie ornament for our real Christmas tree,” Tracey told them. “I thought it was supposed to be a raisin cookie at first, but the man in the booth told me that it’s a chocolate chip cookie. Grandma McCann bakes those for us, and they’re really good. . . .” Tracey stopped speaking and looked a bit anxious. “They’re not as good as your cookies, Aunt Hannah, but that’s to be expected because you’re a professional.”

Hannah was careful not to laugh. “I’m sure they’re very good, Tracey.” She unwrapped the ornament and held it up so Michelle could see it. “It’s pretty, Tracey.”

“Yes, and it’s handmade in Minnesota. The man who sold it told me that handmade things are even more valuable.”