The Whole Enchilada (35 page)

Read The Whole Enchilada Online

Authors: Diane Mott Davidson

Bob had to have surgery after Tom shot him. The bullet narrowly avoided his lung. Then he demanded to see a lawyer. But given that he was facing two charges of first-degree murder, two of attempted murder—Father Pete and me in my foray onto Holly's deck—and grand larceny, the district attorney told Tom there was no way she was doing a deal.

News of Bob's schemes began to be reported in media outlets. Neil Unger puffed himself up and told the papers, “I never trusted that young man.” Of course, that was before one of Brewster's colleagues filed a civil suit against Neil claiming malfeasance in his handling of his daughter's trust.

Tom gave me updates as I lay in a hospital bed down in Denver. Tom had insisted I be admitted and checked over, with every possible test administered. He wanted to make sure I didn't have bits of flak in my system, so my blood was drawn, I peed into a cup, my foot was X-rayed, the whole nine yards, except I couldn't even walk an inch. I only hoped I didn't get the same medical staff that had treated me when I fell through Holly's deck. They hadn't seemed to like me.

After the shoot-out at Holly's house, an obliging sheriff's department deputy had taken Marla home. There, she picked up her own vehicle and used it to zip back down to the hospital.

So after all the obligatory tests, both Marla and Tom were present when Dr. Quartz—his real name, if you can believe it—whisked through the door to the private room Tom had arranged for me. I didn't even want to contemplate how much
that
was costing.

“Well, Mrs. Schulz,” said Quartz, “I have good news and bad news.”

I gave him my best stone face. “I don't want to hear it.” I immediately imagined that one of the tests had shown I had cancer. Who would take care of Arch, if I was gone? Who would—

“The bad news is that I'm not going to be your doctor anymore. Still, there will be no catering until you're out of that cast, do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “What's the good news?”

Dr. Quartz smiled at me. “You're pregnant.”

We had the memorial service for Holly Ingleby the following Tuesday, right after the one for Kathie Beliar. Father Pete was a bit unsteady on his feet, but did a wonderful job.

There was one thing that Holly had asked for on the flash drive:
Please don't tell Drew about Bob. Drew and George adore each other.

But Tom said we couldn't do that. If Bob contacted Drew from the prison where he would surely end up, it would be an even nastier shock than if Tom told Drew that his biological father was, as Tom put it, “deranged.” George Ingleby was and is Drew's father, Tom said. My dear husband also promised to tell Drew that Holly's momentary lapse in judgment with Bob should not be held against her. Without Bob, Drew, who was wonderful in every way, would not even be here.

Drew Ingleby—accompanied by his aunt and uncle—came back from Alaska that Monday. Tom and I told him all that had happened. He cried.

Bob Rushwood, as it turned out, did not have a chance to talk to Drew. An infection set into his chest after his surgery. Ironically, no amount of any antibiotic was able to save him. He died before Holly's service.

We told George Ingleby the truth, right before he went down to meet Drew's plane. He said he didn't care; he was just happy he had Drew. Tom was right: George
was
and
is
Drew's father, even if he hadn't contributed the sperm for his creation. That was why he and Lena had crashed Drew's party; George loved Drew. George promised us—
swore to us
—that once Holly's sister and her husband packed up Holly's rental, Drew would have his own apartment in the Ingleby mansion. He would even have his own entrance. Edith was delighted to have her miracle back. And, George told us, Lena had promised to be kind. Her earlier unpleasantness was only owing to her devotion to George.

Neil Unger was charged in a civil suit, now pending. It doesn't look good for him.

Nor do things portend any better for Warren Broome. Audrey has brought her complaint to his supervisory board. Patsie heard the story first, and filed for divorce.

Yurbin had his one-man show—a flop. The most damning review came from the
Denver Post
:
Yurbin has clearly shown how much he is trying to copy the ideas made popular by his most famous student, Holly Ingleby. Yet he lacks both the vision and the ability to replicate Ingleby's stunning success.
Marla, giggling wildly, gave me the results of her gossip-gathering mission after the show closed, with no pieces sold. Yurbin had tried to get his old job back with the Denver Art Academy. They didn't want him. Nor did the University of Denver, the University of Colorado, or any other local college or high school, private or public. The last Marla heard, Yurbin had been hired as a delivery boy for the Cathedral Grocery, where Chris is now the manager.

Julian began going out with Ophelia. They're both rich in love, in Shakespeare, and in fact. What more could you ask for? Julian bought his own small place in Aspen Meadow, and has promised to help me with the catering business “for as long as you want me, boss.”

“That would be for the foreseeable future,” I told him, once I was out of the hospital and learning to use crutches.

We got through the summer, with its many weddings, and the busy season, Halloween to Christmas. I grew big. In my eighth month, the doctor said Julian would have to take over the catering business. I acquiesced.

On the cold, snowy morning of March 22, I was having a small decaf espresso with cream and contemplating what I would fix for breakfast for Arch, who was on spring break. Without warning, I doubled over. Tom scooped me up before I hit the floor.

“Miss G.?” His handsome face was creased with worry. “What is it?”

“Tom.” I gasped, as another cramp hit. “I'm in labor.”

Tom, so full of anxiety and questions about how I was feeling that I had to remind this normally calm, unwavering cop to keep his eyes on the road, drove me down to Southwest Hospital. The labor came so fast that I was spared the hour-after-hour contractions of Arch's birth, almost eighteen years before.

Arch was too nervous to pilot his own car. So he called Julian to ask if he, Julian, could pick him up in the Rover. Julian said he could, but Ophelia wanted to come, too. Julian had also promised that when the baby-arriving drama began, he would swing by Marla's house to pick
her
up. Gus and Drew had said they wanted to come to the hospital, too. So Julian, Ophelia, Marla, Gus, Drew, and Arch all squeezed into my van, which Julian had commandeered. Either Marla or Arch called Tom every ten minutes to make sure I was okay. Tom finally said he couldn't concentrate on his driving if they didn't stop phoning. His reply was cut off when we passed through the Hogback and lost the signal.

Farther down the interstate, two prowlers met us. One police car pulled in front of us, the other fell in behind the van. They put on their lights. Cell service was restored, and we received another frantic call from Arch.

“What is
happening
?” he cried.

“We have an escort,” said Tom. “Now please tell Julian to pay attention to his driving.”

Finally, finally, we arrived in the hospital parking lot.

“Oh, God,” Marla said, as she picked her way through the slush. “A convoy of cops and my best friend having a baby. I'm so nervous, I think I'm going to pass out.”

“Don't do that,” Julian warned, taking her by the elbow. “The doctors here can deal with only one crisis at a time.”

“I'm quite confident they can deal with simultaneous crises,” Marla assured him.

Tom, swathed in hospital garb, was allowed in the delivery room. Above the mask, the smile in his eyes was reassuring, even as the waves of pain rolled over me. He said, “Arch, Julian, Ophelia, Gus, Drew, and Marla are in the waiting room. Father Pete just arrived. All of them are more anxious than I am, so . . .”

“Yes, yes.” I choked, as a contraction engulfed me. “I'm trying.”

Grace Holly Schulz emerged with a throaty cry less than an hour later.

“Here's your daughter,” said Dr. Marbury, my obstetrician, proudly placing long, pink, bawling Grace on my abdomen.

Tears slid down my face. There was no snow, no slush, no ice, no pain. There was only this lovely, new creature. Our creature.
Our baby.

I had tried to help a lot of people along the way to this moment—Holly's son, Drew, among them—and in that helping, I had found a sense of belonging, of caring, of rebuilding my inner self after it was wrecked by the Jerk. I was, and am, thankful for that.

And now I had what I had always wanted—a loving husband, darling children, a tight community:
the whole enchilada.

Once Grace was wrapped in a blanket and nestled in my arms in the hospital room, Arch, Julian, Ophelia, Marla, Gus, Drew, and Father Pete were all allowed in. They beamed.

“We're all here for you, baby,” I murmured to my newborn.

She heard. She understood. That was the only way I could explain why Grace, with her tiny nest of blond curls, craned her little head around . . . to see her family.

Acknowledgments

T
he author gratefully acknowledges the assistance of the following people: Jim Davidson; Jeff, Rosa, Ryan, Nick, and Josh Davidson; J. Z. Davidson; Joey Davidson; Sandra Dijkstra, Elise Capron, Andrea Cavallaro, Thao Le, Elisabeth James, and the rest of the amazing team at the Sandra Dijkstra Literary Agency; Brian Murray, Michael Morrison, Carolyn Marino, Amanda Bergeron, Megan Swartz, Tavia Kowalchuk, Joseph Papa, and the entire brilliant team at Morrow; Richard Staller, D.O., for offering the idea for this book; Kathy Saideman, for her patient and helpful readings of the manuscript; Carol Alexander, for testing the recipes and making many valuable suggestions; Jasmine Cresswell and the rest of our brainstorming group: Connie Laux, Karen Young Stone, and Emilie Richards McGee; Linda and David Ranz, M.D.; Dan Sheehy, Esq., expert in wills and trusts; Shirley Carnahan, Ph.D.; Carole Kornreich, M.D., for numerous clarifications; J.R. and John Suess; Julie Kaewert; Triena Harper; the Reverend Andi Suess Taylor and St. Boniface Episcopal Church in Sarasota, Florida, and the Reverend Nina Churchman and St. Laurence Episcopal Church in Conifer, Colorado; my far-flung family: Adam Mott, Janie Mott Fritz, Lucy Mott Faison, Sally Mott Freeman, and William C. Mott, Jr., plus all their wonderful spouses and dear children, with special acknowledgment of the passing of our beloved Tom Fritz; John William Schenk, who taught me how to cater; Marty O'Leary and the staff at Sur La Table in Sarasota, Florida, for numerous helpful suggestions; and as always, Sergeant Richard Millsapps, now retired from the Jefferson County Sheriff's Department, Golden, Colorado.

Recipes from

The Whole Enchilada

Enchiladas Suizas

Not-So-Skinny Spinach Dip

Julian's Fudge with Sun-Dried Cherries and Toasted Pecans

Crunchy Cinnamon Toast

Chocolate Snowcap Cookies

Dad's Bread

Bread Dough Enhancer

Love-Me-Tenderloin Grilled Steaks

Goldy's Chef Salad

Sugar-Free Vanilla Gelato

Spicy Brownies

12 corn tortillas

1⁄3 cup olive oil

Filling:

2 cups shredded rotisserie chicken, dark and light meat, skin and bones removed

2¼ cups
crema
(homemade sour cream, also known as crème fraîche, recipe follows) or commercial sour cream

2 cups grated mild or medium cheddar cheese

1 teaspoon kosher salt

Sauce:

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 cups chopped onions

2 tablespoons minced garlic

14½ ounces diced Italian-style (with garlic, basil, and oregano) tomatoes (Check contents of can. You may need more than one can.)

9 ounces (contents of two 4½-ounce cans) chopped fire-roasted mild chiles

1 teaspoon dried oregano

Additional
crema
or sour cream for topping

Crema
(optional):

2 cups heavy whipping cream

¼ cup active-culture buttermilk

If you are making the optional
crema
, pour the cream into a glass container and stir in the buttermilk. Cover the container tightly with plastic wrap and leave at room temperature until thick (usually 24 to 48 hours). Covered
crema
can be kept in the refrigerator for a week.

When you are ready to make the enchiladas, preheat the oven to 350˚F. Have ready a large plate and 13 absorbent paper towels. Fold the paper towels into quarters.

Overlap the tortillas in two large (9-by-13-inch or larger) pans so that as much of the surfaces of the tortillas is showing as possible. Drizzle the olive oil evenly over the tortillas in both pans. (You may have to use your hands or a pastry brush to spread oil evenly over the tortillas.) Place the pans in the oven and allow the tortillas to soften for about 5 minutes. Remove the pans from the oven and check that the tortillas are softened by using tongs to lift up one of them. (You want them soft and pliable. If they are not yet soft, put the pans back in the oven for a couple of minutes. You do not want to cook the tortillas through, which will harden them.) When the tortillas are just cool enough to touch, place one of the folded towels on a plate. Using tongs, place one tortilla on the folded towel. Place another folded towel on top of the tortilla and press lightly to absorb excess oil. Continue with the remaining tortillas. Set aside.

Using a large bowl, make the filling by mixing the chicken,
crema
or sour cream, cheese, and salt until blended. Set aside.

For the sauce, heat the oil in a large skillet over low heat. Add the onions and cook for a minute, stirring. Add the garlic and stir. Continue to cook and stir over low heat until the onion is translucent (about 10 minutes). Add the tomatoes, chiles, and oregano. Simmer this mixture over low heat for 5 to 8 minutes. Remove from the heat, allow to cool slightly, and spoon into a 4-cup glass measuring cup. You should have 3 cups of sauce. If you do not have 3 full cups, add the extra tomato sauce to make 3 cups.

Butter a 9-by-13-inch glass pan.

To fill the enchiladas, place each tortilla on a flat surface and scoop a ¼ cup of filling into the center. Using your fingers or a spoon, shape the filling into a cylinder in the center of the tortilla. Roll up the tortilla and place it, seam side down, in the prepared pan. Continue until all the tortillas are rolled up.

Spoon the sauce over the tortillas and place the pan in the oven to bake until the center of the enchiladas is steaming hot, about 20 to 25 minutes. Serve with sour cream on the side, if desired.

Makes 12 enchiladas

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 tablespoon minced garlic

1 10-ounce package frozen chopped spinach, thawed and drained

8 ounces cream cheese, softened

10 ounces Alfredo sauce (contents of one refrigerated package)

1⁄3 cup finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

1 cup grated fontina cheese

Freshly ground black pepper

In a medium-size sauté pan, melt the butter over low heat. Add the garlic; cook and stir until it is translucent. Add the spinach and cream cheese, stirring until very well combined. Add the Alfredo sauce and cheeses. Stir until the cheeses have melted. Continue stirring until hot.

Taste and season carefully with the pepper. Serve immediately with chips or crackers.

1 cup pecan halves

3 cups granulated sugar

¾ cup (1½ sticks) unsalted butter

2⁄3 cup evaporated milk

¼ teaspoon kosher salt

12 ounces best-quality bittersweet chocolate, chopped

7 ounces (contents of 1 jar) marshmallow crème

1 cup (about 6 ounces) sun-dried cherries

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

In a wide skillet, toast the pecans, stirring constantly, over low heat until they just begin to turn color and emit a nutty smell. Turn out onto paper towels and allow to cool. Chop and set aside.

Butter a 9-inch-square pan. Place the sugar, butter, salt, and milk in a heavy-duty saucepan. Stir constantly over medium heat until the sugar is dissolved. Continue to stir vigorously until the mixture comes to a rolling boil and measures 234˚F on a candy thermometer. Remove from the heat and stir in the chopped chocolate and crème, stirring until the chocolate is melted and both are incorporated. Stir in the vanilla, cherries, and pecans.

Pour into the prepared pan and cover with plastic wrap. Allow to cool completely. When completely cooled, cut the fudge with a warm knife.

Makes 32 small or 16 large squares

1 cup granulated sugar

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter (you may not need all of this)

8 thick slices best-quality bread, preferably brioche

Applesauce

Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Butter 1 or 2 large cookie sheets, or lay silicone mats on them.

Mix the cinnamon into the sugar and set aside. Melt the butter.

Lay the bread slices on the cookie sheets so that they are not touching. Place them in the oven and allow the bread to toast for about 5 minutes. Remove the sheets from the oven, but do not turn the oven off.

Flip the bread slices so that the untoasted side is facing up. Using a pastry brush, brush each slice of bread generously with butter. Carefully sprinkle each piece of bread generously with the cinnamon sugar. You want a thick layer of cinnamon sugar on each slice.

Return the sheets to the oven and watch carefully. In about 10 to 20 minutes, the cinnamon sugar layer will begin to bubble. Remove the sheets from the oven.

Serve immediately with applesauce on the side.

8 servings

4 ounces extra-bittersweet or bittersweet chocolate, broken into pieces (recommended brand: Lindt; be sure you are using a full 4 ounces, as package sizes differ)

½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter

4 large eggs

2 cups dark brown sugar, firmly packed

2 cups all-purpose flour

1⁄3 cup cocoa (recommended brand: Hershey's Special Dark)

½ teaspoon kosher salt

2 teaspoons baking powder

¼ teaspoon baking soda

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 teaspoon chocolate extract (available at Sur La Table)

1 cup powdered sugar (for rolling)

Place the chocolate pieces and butter in the top of a double boiler and melt over simmering water. When the mixture is just melted, set aside to cool.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the eggs until well combined and light yellow in color. Add the brown sugar and beat until very well combined.

Sift together the flour, cocoa, salt, baking powder, and baking soda.

When the chocolate mixture is no more than lukewarm, stir it into the egg mixture. Using a wooden spoon, gently stir in the extracts and the dry ingredients.

Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap and chill overnight. (The batter must be very well chilled.)

When you are ready to bake the cookies, preheat the oven to 350˚F. Put silicone mats on two cookie sheets.

Place the powdered sugar in a large bowl. Remove the bowl of batter from the refrigerator. Using a 1-tablespoon scoop, measure out a dozen scoops of dough (level the scoops with a knife). Put the plastic wrap back over the bowl of batter and return to the refrigerator, to keep the rest of the batter well chilled. (As the batter warms up, it becomes too sticky to work with.)

Roll the first dozen scoops into balls, then drop them one at a time into the bowl of sugar, rolling them around until they are white. Place the cookies in even rows on the first cookie sheet, 2 inches apart. Bake for about 8 to 10 minutes, or until the “cracks” in the dough no longer appear wet. Watch carefully, as you do not want the cookies to overbake and dry out.

When the first batch of cookies is done, remove it from the oven and allow the cookies to set up for 5 minutes on the sheet. Use a metal spatula to carefully move the cookies to cooling racks; let cool completely. Remove the bowl of dough from the refrigerator and repeat with the other cookie sheet. Repeat this process until all the dough is used up.

These cookies can be messy to serve, because of the powdered sugar. Serve them on plates.

Makes 3½ to 4 dozen

½ cup plus 1 tablespoon dark brown sugar, divided

1 cup old-fashioned oats

2 teaspoons kosher salt

1¾ cups spring water, divided

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons instant yeast

2 large eggs

¼ cup Bread Dough Enhancer (recipe follows)

5 to 6 cups bread flour

In a large mixing bowl, place ½ cup brown sugar, oats, salt, and butter. Heat 1½ cups spring water just until it is hot (125˚F) and pour over oat mixture. Stir to mix and allow to cool to about 110˚F. (A thermometer is handy for this. You do not want the mixture so hot that it destroys the yeast or cooks the eggs.)

In a glass bowl or container, stir 1 tablespoon brown sugar into the remaining ¼ cup spring water. Stir yeast into this mixture and set in a warm spot (no hotter than 150˚F) for 10 minutes to proof.

Stir the enhancer into the flour.

In a separate bowl, beat the eggs well. Reserve two tablespoons and then stir the eggs and the yeast mixture into the oat mixture. Place this mixture into the large bowl of an electric mixer and stir to combine.

Attach a dough hook to the mixer. Stir in the flour, one cup at a time, until the mixture comes together. Knead on low speed for at least 5 minutes, until the dough comes together and cleans the bowl.

Butter a large, cylindrical hard plastic container and its lid. Place the dough in the container and, using a measuring tape and a marker, measure on the
outside
of the container the volume of the dough. Mark the container (still on the outside) where double the amount would be. Place the lid on the container.

Allow the dough to rise at room temperature until it is doubled in size (about 45 minutes to an hour). Remove the lid and gently punch down and knead the dough to roughly its original size. Allow it to rise again to double its size, about 40 minutes. Punch down again.

Butter three 8½-by-4½ glass loaf pans. Divide the dough evenly (you can use a scale to make sure the loaves all weigh the same) into thirds. Shape the dough pieces into loaves, and place them in the pans. Butter 3 large pieces of plastic wrap and place them loosely over each pan. Allow the dough to double in size, about 40 to 60 minutes. Remove the plastic.

Preheat the oven to 350˚F.

Whisk the remaining 2 tablespoons of egg and brush it over the tops of the risen loaves. Place the pans in the oven and bake for about 30 to 40 minutes, or until the internal temperature reads 180˚F and the loaves sound hollow when thumped.

Place the pans on racks, allow them to cool for 5 minutes, then turn the loaves out on the racks to cool completely, covered with a clean cloth dish towel.

Makes 3 loaves

1 cup wheat gluten (available in health food stores)

2 tablespoons lecithin (available in health food stores)

2 tablespoons powdered pectin (available in health food stores)

1 teaspoon ground ginger

2 tablespoons gelatin powder

½ cup nonfat dry milk

In a large bowl, stir all the ingredients until they are well mixed. Place the mixture into a zipped plastic bag, and keep it in the refrigerator, where it will last for six months. Most yeast bread recipes with 4 cups flour will call for 2 tablespoons. Recipes calling for 6 to 7 cups flour may use up to ¼ cup.

Makes about 2 cups

4 6-ounce filet mignon steaks, each 1½ to 2 inches thick (use prime grade from Costco, if at all possible)

¼ cup garlic oil (recommended brand: Boyajian, available at Sur La Table)

Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

*This recipe must be made using a digital probe meat thermometer.

Allow the steaks to come to room temperature. Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Have your digital probe meat thermometer ready.

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