Chapter 6 #3
Mrs. B is standing in front of four plates with the letters A to D on them so she can taste test the best cookie without knowing who the baker is.
I say that with my tongue in my cheek because it’s not hard to pick which are Nash and Kade’s cookies.
The shape of them is not neat and they are random sizes, whereas mine are all the same size and as near a perfect circle as I could get them, while Poppy’s are similar to mine.
There is no way either of us is going to win, and I pray Mrs. B comes up with a tie on the boys’ cookies, because I do not want to deal with the fallout of who won and who lost. I know that’s not what life is like, but seriously, I’m happy with not rocking the boat at the moment.
The boys are both bouncing on their feet and so close to the plates, talking at the same time, telling Mrs. B all the good things about their cookies. She is playing the part so perfectly and is bringing them along for the ride.
“Okay, I have made my decision. I thank all the bakers for their efforts today. Now in fourth place with a very sweet cookie is plate D.” And she looks straight at me, knowing full well it’s mine, but I just hope to God we aren’t talking about the same sweet cookies.
“Darn, that’s mine. So maybe I’m not the best cookie maker after all.” I accept my prize which is chocolate in the shape of a Santa face made by Mrs. B.
“It was a very close competition, but in a respectable third spot is plate B who had a nice shape, very consistent, and an enjoyable taste.” The boys cheer because they realize they are both still in the running for first prize.
“Looks like I’m living up to my name of being consistent in everything I do.” Poppy steps forward and kisses her mom on the cheek as she collects her Santa face.
“Now, the last two were so hard to choose from. This one had the perfect amount of chocolate chips in it, but the other one’s biscuit melted in my mouth.
They both look superb and are baked perfectly.
Hmmm.” She pauses, placing her finger on her chin, looking from plate to plate.
“My final decision, I declare it to be a tie, because both cookies were the best ones I’ve ever tasted, besides mine, of course.
” She giggles, and the boys jump around screaming, “I win, I win.”
I look around the room as Mrs. B, Poppy, and the boys embrace in a group hug, celebrating their achievement.
These last two years have been hard, but this last ten days it’s like there has been a shift in our world.
The boys have smiled and laughed more, and so have I.
Charlene has been giving me hell at the bar each night.
She’s not stupid and probably knows me better than anyone besides my best friend, Adrian, who I’m glad is away.
Otherwise, the two of them carrying on about Poppy would be painful to endure.
Poppy lines the boys up for photos with their prize-winning cookies, so I take the opportunity to talk to Mrs. B on her own.
“Are we all set for Wednesday night?” We stand shoulder to shoulder as we look on the three of them in fits of giggles doing poses for the camera.
She looks up at me with a grin that is hiding something, I can tell.
“Sure am. I will take her for lunch to celebrate her day, and then Autumn is coming for dinner and cake with the boys too. Then I’ve decided the boys can have a sleepover here with me, and she can just stay at your place when you get home from the bar.
” The twinkle in her eye tells me she sees what’s been going on around here, and she is trying to do her own bit of matchmaking.
For her age, Mrs. B is not an old-fashioned, stuffy lady like some of the other neighbors.
She continues, “She’ll be drunk, and I don’t want her waking the boys up. Plus, it will give me a chance to spoil them as a treat. It will make it easier when Poppy heads home if they get used to sleepovers at my house, then I can help you out on the weekends.”
I just grin down at her, tucked under my arm as she is so short. “I can’t impose on your life like that. You already help so much with the boys, and I’m not delusional, I know they are a handful on a good day.”
“Nonsense, I want to spend time with them. When Poppy arrived in my life that day, I was blessed they chose me to be her mom. My husband had not long died in a work accident, so like you, I was just struggling to survive those first few years of her life while she was growing up, and I feel like I missed so much. Having the boys around brings back so many memories of happy times with my girl that you would be doing me a favor. With her so far away, I worry a lot, especially after this last breakup, so keeping busy helps stop me from worrying so much. I know she’s all grown up and, good grief, about to turn thirty, but to me she is still like those two little faces there are to you.
She is my whole world.” She lifts the hem of her apron and dabs the corner of her eye, and I know exactly what she means.
“Oh, silly me, enough of the melancholy.” She straightens up and pulls herself together.
“Anyway, what makes you think she will get drunk in my bar?” I very gently elbow her in the side to get her smiling again.
“Because I’m giving you permission to keep serving her enough drinks so she has the best time possible, singing, dancing, and making memories.
That’s what birthdays are about, going out and having fun.
” Her emphasis on the word fun as she walks away has me worried.
How much does this woman know about her daughter and me?
As she joins in the goofy photos with the others, it dawns on me what she said about Poppy and her being chosen to have her. And that her husband had died before Poppy was born.
Is Poppy adopted?
Not that it matters, she just never mentioned it. But I suppose it’s because we are trying to keep some distance for when this is over.
It’s not like this thing between us is going to be more than a holiday fling. Because it’s not like Santa will be leaving her under my tree as a present to keep.
“Don’t even go there,” I tell myself as the visions of her lying under my tree, naked in those candy-cane socks, start dancing in my head.
What have they done to me? These twelve days of Christmas are like a spell that turns even the hardened grump into someone who can’t wait for more cheer.
Suddenly it hits me.
Wednesday, I get a whole night with Poppy all to myself.
No kids, no responsibilities, just her and me, naked and fucking until we can’t fuck anymore.
Happy dirty thirty, my little temptress.