Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Alex
I didn’t have a lot of childhood memories stretching back to when my folks were alive, but one that stood out bright in my mind was decorating cookies.
Mom would sing Christmas carols in that soft, sweet voice of hers, while Dad would sit in a chair at the kitchen table with Gramps, watching us and occasionally taking pictures.
The scrapbooks mom had started for me, Gramps had added to over the years, explaining, more than once, that she’d have wanted it that way.
Now it was my turn to collect pictures for those we’d started for our own brood, and I knew just the dragon to handle capturing them all. I called Gramps to the kitchen and put my phone in his hands, grinning when he smiled at me.
“Can’t wait to capture the chaos,” Gramps said.
“Hopefully their uncle Odem has them settled down enough that my poor fire extinguishers can catch a break,” I muttered, “I brought a spare in just in case.”
“Shocked you didn’t bring two.”
“I would have, but their sweet uncle Odem is going to decorate cookies with us, so I think they will be okay,” I admitted. “He has such a calming effect on them.”
As if he knew I was talking about them, Odem stepped into the room with Kane and Hunter holding his hands and a big smile on his face.
“The boys have promised to keep the frosting on their cookies and the flames in check,” Odem said.
“How did you get them to agree to that?” I asked.
“Remember that cookie I snagged earlier? The one you threatened me with a spatula over?”
“How could I forget, you snagged it so fast I almost missed it.”
“Well, it wasn’t for me to eat,” he explained. “I charred it and broke it in half, so they could taste what burnt cookie was like. Between scrunching up their noses and trying to rub the taste off their tongues, I think they got the point.”
As soon as we had all four kids positioned in their highchairs in front of the kitchen island, I hugged my brother-in-law.
“Thank you,” I murmured and felt him hug me tighter, “Next time, you take as many cookies as you want.”
“Have I told you that you are officially the best wandering intruder in the world,” he said.
Giggling, I grinned up at him as I stepped back. “Coming from you, that’s the best kind of praise.”
He seated himself between Kane and Hunter, which I appreciated more than he could ever know.
How he, the jokester of the bunch, had become our go to dragonet sitter, as well as the dragon I called on when I wanted to learn more about their element and the way it stemmed from their emotions, was beyond me.
He’d already taught me that frustration was a big trigger for them and the hardest for them to control at their age, because so many things in this world that were new to them presented challenges and frustrations.
Learning that had helped me to limit their exposure to new stimuli as well as choose better toys and gifts for them.
While I got that trying to fit a star shaped piece of plastic into its proper slot on a container was designed to teach hand-eye coordination as well as shape identification, when your babies melted the plastic so they could get the pieces to fit, it was clearly not serving the purpose that it was intended for.
Maybe it was wrong, but I had started dividing up their toys and giving specific ones to Griffin and Luna when the twins were asleep.
It cut back on the expense of replacing damaged items, not to mention tears and sorrow when something Griffin or Luna loved accidentally got melted or obliterated.
I set a cookie down on the plastic in front of each of them, along with small squeezable tubes of frosting, shocked when Odem met my gaze with a questioning look when I sat a cookie down in front of him.
“I’ve never decorated a cookie before,” he declared.
“Neither have they,” I pointed out. “How awesome is it that their first time should be with their favorite uncle?”
I swore I saw him tear up before I turned away.
These sweet, loving, protective dragons had, in many ways, lost out on their childhoods after their mother had passed away.
Having never known their father, except through the stories their mother had told them about him, they’d been forced to grow up way too fast. Because they’d been born in a time so long ago I couldn’t even imagine what it was like, such a simple thing as cookie decorating certainly hadn’t been on their to do list.
“Alright,” I said. “The goal is to get as much of the frosting on the cookies as you can.”
Even as I said it, I knew we would have sticky fingers, claws, and faces to clean when they were done.
And I’d love every minute of it. Sitting between Luna and Griffin, with Ionus and Great-gramps leaning against the counter, watching us as we got started, a sudden lump formed in my throat, threatening to choke me.
I hadn’t wept since the night our dragonets had hatched, but in this moment, with our family all together in the kitchen, and those little heads, plus Odem’s, bent over their cookies, the tears threatened to fall like a mighty deluge.
“Grrrummmmm,” Kane grumble, a tube in each hand trying to squeeze them onto the cookie’s surface. “Out!”
“Hang on little one,” Odem said, gently prying one of the tubes from between his fingers to inspect it. “Yup, this one has a clog at the tip, let me fix it for you.”
“Cog?” My adorable dragonet attempted to emulate.
“Clog,” Odem said, carefully enunciating it for him before turning the tip of the tube where Kane could see it. “See that right there. That’s a clog. That’s why your frosting won’t come out of the tube.”
“Fostig,” Kane said, squeezing his other tube and sending a spurt of green all over his sugar cookie.
My dear dragonet cocked his head, then reached to touch some of the frosting that had landed against the side of his tube. First he poked it, then he licked it off, smiling at the sugary sweet taste of it. “Fostig!”
“That’s right, frost-ing,” Odem said, once again being careful to take his time and pronounce the word fully, so Kane would have a better chance of catching on to it.
“Frostig, yum,” Kane said.
“That’s right, buddy,” Odem said while I passed him a toothpick so he could take care of the clog.
A glance to my left showed my focused Griffin trying his best to draw stripes on his cookie without making the lines of icing too thick, while my precious Luna was busy drawing a tutu on hers, like the ones she loved to wear when she skipped and spun around the house.
Her tongue poked out from between her lips as she worked, the picture of concentration.
There would be several new tutus waiting for her under the Christmas tree to replace the ones her brothers had accidentally ruined by snorting flames or belching tiny cinders all over them.
She felt things far too deeply for a dragonet so young, her caution and consideration about the feelings of others, something I’d already come to love about my sweet girl.
Knowing now, thanks to Raven, that was her gift, it all made sense, though we’d have to keep a watchful eye to ensure it didn’t consume her.
I was so lucky.
The Goddess had blessed me beyond my wildest dreams.
Hunter was busy covering his cookie in frosting polka dots, occasionally adding a dot of one color on top of the other as he steadily worked at covering the surface, while Odem handed the frosting tube back to Kane, who held it over his cookie and squeezed it so hard frosting shot out of the tip.
Squealing, my boy then proceeded to squeeze the other one and laugh when the blue frosting shot out.
Like a drummer in a heavy metal band, Kane raised and lowered those tubes, squeezing on every downswing, shooting bright, colorful frosting everywhere.
He got it on the cookie, he got it on the plastic, he got it on his uncle Odem and several squeezes even shot across the island to land on me.
All the while he wiggled in his seat, squealing and laughing, sing-songing no cog, no cog, frosting yum, yum, yummm.
I could hear the steady clicking of Gramps taking pictures, as an upswing and an oddly timed squeeze sent frosting sailing up towards the ceiling.
My mate groaned, then let out an exasperated chuckle when a second splat landed near the first. He was pinching the bridge of his nose when I glanced over at him, but my stoic storm dragon protector was laughing too, while Great-gramps cackled beside him, muttering have fun getting that off.
They were wild and messy, but damnit all, they were mine, and I was gonna love every flaming, charred, icing filled moment of watching them grow up.