Chapter 3 #2
“Well, at least she’s consistent.” I stroll into the kitchen just as the microwave dings.
Mom slides a steaming plate of tater tot hotdish across the kitchen island.
When people talk about comfort food, tater tot hotdish is like a warm fire on a chilly night.
Ground beef, cream of mushroom, onion, corn, cheese, and tater tots all baked together until the tots are golden brown.
It reminds me exactly of home. My mom. It’s something Brooke would never dream of making.
Being a professional athlete, I always had to watch what I ate.
Sure, I would indulge now and then, but nothing like this.
Shoving a forkful into my mouth, I moan.
“Thanks. I never realized how much I missed your hotdish until now.”
“Now that you’re back, we’ll have a lot more dinners together.” She spins around and puts the clean dishes from the strainer into the cupboard.
No complaints here. I clear the plate with the speed of a power play.
When I’m finished, I glance down, half tempted to pick up my plate and lick it clean.
It was that good. But I think otherwise, mostly to avoid the motherly glare she’d give me because she taught her son better manners than that.
I set my fork down and push my plate away.
“Now you can have your dessert.” She swaps the plate for the cookie.
Finally. I take a big bite. My teeth sink into the soft, delectable, and unapologetically perfect baked good. While I continue eating my dessert, Mom rinses off the plate before placing it in the bottom rack of the dishwasher.
“You know they make dishwashers where you don’t have to do that,” I say.
“I’m not convinced it would get it clean.”
“You’d be surprised. They have jets that could strip paint.”
“I like my dishwasher the way it is.”
John enters the kitchen. “That’s what I keep telling her as well.” He wraps his arms around my mom.
“If it’s not broken, it doesn’t need replacing.” While reaching behind her, he grabs another cookie from the counter. She spins around and spears him with a look. He shrugs.
I shove the last half of the cookie into my mouth.
Josie climbs onto the stool next to me. “Did you like it?”
“Mmm.” I rub my belly as I chew. “There’s no way you made these. Where’s the cookie container?” I pretend to look around the kitchen.
“I did!” She giggles. “Grandma was my helper.”
“In that case, I’m hiring you for the carnival bakery. You’re on cookie duty for Christmas.”
Her eyes go wide. “That’s a lot of cookies.” She tilts her head. “What’s the Holly Jolly Festival?” She takes a bite of her cookie.
“It’s Mount Holly’s Christmas festival. There are games, food, and Santa,” Mom answers.
Josie turns to me. “Like the carnival?”
“Similar,” I say carefully.
“Who’s Brie McKenna?”
Of course she overheard; she hears everything. “A girl I grew up with.”
“She’s your friend?”
I rub my neck. How do I translate academic nemesis turned firecracker with a vendetta to an eleven-year-old?
“I wouldn’t say friend. We… went to school together.
Since Mount Holly is so small, we saw a lot of each other.
” Josie nods along. I hope she buys what I’m selling her.
In case she doesn’t, I change the subject.
“Unfortunately, only half the things for the house showed up. Is it okay if Josie stays another night or two? Just until everything arrives, and she’s not living out of boxes.
I’m hoping to have the house together before Thanksgiving. ”
“Of course,” my mom says. She’d never complain about spending more time with her granddaughter. I’m sure she feels as if she has years to make up for. A life of professional hockey didn’t grant me too much free time.
“Thanks. Maybe we can have Thanksgiving at my house then.”
“We can certainly host here as well.” My mom leans against the counter.
I wrap an arm around Josie’s shoulder and glance down. “Are you okay with staying with Grandma and Grandpa for a couple more days?”
She nods. “Yes!”
“There’s a craft fair in Twin Falls we can go to,” my mom adds.
Josie springs to attention. “Yay!” She rushes to my mom and wraps her arms around her.
“Alright, I’m going to head home.” I walk to the entryway and slide my feet into my shoes.
My mom follows close behind. “Have you seen anyone else yet?”
“Only Brie. I’ve been a little busy.” A humorless laugh escapes me. “Busy” is an understatement. Organizing a carnival in three weeks is crazy. But I started it, and I need to see this through now.
“I’m sure everyone will be excited to see you.”
I give her a tight-lipped smile and nod. Seeing all my old friends will be great. Another run-in with Brie… that’s still up for debate. I wrap my arms around her shoulders. “Thanks again for watching Josie.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
The cold air hits me as soon as I open the door.
I jam my hands in my pockets as I stride to my truck.
I let it idle for a few minutes before reversing out of the driveway.
Rows and rows of houses pass by. Some already don decorations for Christmas while others remain naked.
Surely after Thanksgiving, the rest of the neighborhood will hop on the holiday bandwagon.
As I approach my house, instead of braking, I step on the gas.
The night’s still young. One drink at the Crooked Reindeer won’t kill me.
My old high school friend Simon owns the place, so it will be good to reminisce with some familiar faces.
Also, perhaps it’s better if I avoid falling asleep with Brie as my last thought.