But lack of progress brought depression. Or perhaps it was the end of the day, the hardest time to be reminded of separation from someone you love. To the west, there was no fiery sunset, only a further darkening of they sky caused by the sun slipping past the clouds and behind the mountains. The temperature had dropped at least fifteen degrees. As we rounded Aspen Meadow Lake on our way home, large, wet snowflakes powdered my windshield. In front of the van, the wind whirled the flakes into thick tornadoes of white. Spring snow: good for the crops, or so they were always telling us on the radio. But bad for someone kidnapped, who might be in an unfamiliar and unheated place. When I finally pulled the van in front of the house, it felt as if all the energy had drained out of my body.
?Come on, Mom,? said Arch. ?Cheer up.? He pointed at the Jaguar parked at a precarious angle by the sidewalk. ?Look, Marla?s here.?
And indeed she was, fretting around in the kitchen, setting the table and standing back to admire the enormous basket arrangement of flowers she brought with her. Oblivious of her, Julian pinched and pressed pizza dough into springform pans. When we came through the door, the two of them stared at our disconsolate faces.
?Goldy?? Julian?s eyes were wide. ?Any news/?
I shook my head grimly. I didn?t trust my voice.
?Dinner is Mexican Pizza,? he announced, turning away so I couldn?t see the despair on his face. ?Fifteen minutes.?
I sat heavily in one of my kitchen chairs. ?Tell me how you?re doing,? I said to Julian. ?I?m getting tired of always focusing on my own crises.?
Mexican Pizza
2 z ounce envelopes (5 teaspoons0 active dry yeast
2 cups warm water
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
4 teaspoons olive oil
5 to 6 cups all-purpose flour
olive oil and cornmeal for the pans
1 1/3 cups picante sauce
6 cups grated cheddar cheese
In a large mixing bowl, sprinkle the yeast over the warm water. Add the sugar, stir, and set aside for 10 minutes, until the mixture is bubbly. Stir in the salt and olive oil. Beat in 5 cups of flour, then add as much extra flour as needed to make a dough that is not too sticky to knead. Knead on a floured surface until the dough is smooth and satiny, 5 to 10 minutes. (Or place the dough in the bowl of an electric mixer and knead with a dough hook until the dough cleans the sides of the bowl, approximately 5 minutes.) Place the dough in an oiled bowl, turn to oil the top, cover with kitchen towel, and let rise in a warm place until doubled in a bulk, about 1 hour.
Preheat the oven to 425 . Brush a little olive oil over the bottom and sides of four 9-or 10-inch springform pans. Sprinkle cornmeal over the oiled bottoms and sides. Punch the dough down and divide it into quarters. Press each piece of dough out to fit the bottom of a pan, making a small collar around the edges. Spread 1/3 cup picante sauce on top of the dough circles; top each pizza with 1 ? cups cheese. Bake for 10 to 20 minutes or until the dough is cooked through and the cheese is completely melted.
Makes four 9-or 10-inch pizzas
He looked up from his work. ?Me?? He had not shaved; the circles under his eyes made him look haggard. The college admissions. He was supposed to hear this week, and he hadn?t ventilated any of his worry. He shrugged and wiped his hands on the white apron he was wearing over a much-washed black sweatshirt that had frayed at the sleeves. His baggy black cotton pants had lost their knee patch. It was one of Julian?s scrounged outfits from the Aspen Meadow secondhand store. He carefully sloshed picante sauce over the dough in the pans. In his typical offhand manner, he said, ?Don?t worry about me. ?
?But I do,? I said, and my voice choked. I felt a sob welling up, the first one in twenty-four hours. ?I am worried about you,? I cried. Involuntary tears came in earnest.
?Come on, Goldy,? commanded Marla. ?Out of the kitchen. Into the living room. Arch, do you know what sherry is??
?It?s from Spain, right? Comes in a bottle in a burlap bag? Mom uses it for cooking.?
?Yeah well, right now Mom?s going to use if for her psyche. Could you find it and bring it out to the living room with two small glasses? Please? And Julian,? Marla added, ?keep going with that pizza. I?ll bet she hasn?t had food in a while, either.?
Julian nodded grimly as he sprinkled handfuls of cheddar cheese on his creation. Out in the living room, Marla sat me on the couch, eased down on the adjoining cushion, and pulled out a tissue from one of her pockets.
?Do you need a hug?? she asked when the outburst of crying was over and I was reduced to sniffles. She waved a hand at the bottle of Dry Sack that Arch had brought out. ?Or do you just need sherry??
?Both.?
She obliged. The sherry warmed my throat. Arch, who had been watching me nervously from the hearth, set about constructing a complex fire of aspen, pine, and Russian olive logs.
I said to Marla, ?Tell me why all this is happening.?
She gazed at the first flames licking the fireplace wood. ?How about, because the church is a strange place/?
?Our church in particular, or the church in general??
She turned her mouth down at the corners. ?Aw, go for the broad view. Big hospital for sinners. Only some people stay sick.? She tipped up her glass to finish her sherry.
?But you knew Father Olson,? I insisted. My voice had a watery, hiccupping tone from crying. ?I mean, you went out with him a couple of times, didn?t you ? Was he really so bad? Why would someone hate him that much? I mean, so he had charismatic churchmanship. So what? Just because someone doesn?t agree with you doesn?t mean you have to kill him.?
Marla?s expression was full of sadness and affection. ?depends on how much they disagree with you, I guess.? She smiled and looked at her Rolex. ?Fifteen minutes! Come on, Goldy it?ll make you feel better to eat.? As if on cue, Julian swept into the living room carrying a tray with plates and steaming pizzas.
After she?d had a few mouthfuls and made the appropriate noises of praise, Marla said reflectively, ?You know, I didn?t really date Ted Olson, I was single, he was single, we went out for dinner a couple of times. I always thought he was more interested in my net worth than my body or soul.? She giggled and finished a last bit of pizza. ?Not necessarily in that order. Besides, I told you, the guy was squirrelly.?
Arch tore a piece of crust from his mouth with sudden interest. ?You don?t mean, like a rodent, do you??
?Of course not,? said Marla as she smilingly accepted a second large piece of pizza from Julian. ?This is my last piece, I promise.? She took a dainty bit. ?I mean, he?d say, ?Don?t leave a message on the church voice mail or the women will say we?re having an affair.? What was the matter with that, I wanted to know? Give the religious man an air of mystery. Which he got anyway, once Roger Bampton opened his big mouth.?
?Squirrelly in what other ways?? I asked. I bit into the pizza and felt a shiver of delight: Hot melted cheese oozed around spicy picante sauce and a light, chewy homemade crust. Julian was an artist.
?Well,? Marla went on, ?when I ran the jewelry raffle last year, we had the worst ruckus over who was going to keep the gold chains. You know Lucille always insists on getting a separate insurance rider, and I have a safe in my house. Either of those would have been better than letting Ted Olson keep them out at his unsecured place in the boonies. But no. He insisted on being the caretaker for the chains, said he could outwit any thief, and he had to take responsibility for something of that value.?
I stopped eating and leaned toward her. ?Do you know where he kept them??
?What are you looking at me like that for? I don?t know. When I drove out there to get them, he just gave me
