Chapter 15 #2
“It’s not a problem. In fact, this is exactly what I needed today,” Andrea replied, staring up into his warm brown eyes.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a day where I could bake without any expectations or goals.
And I honestly can’t remember the last time I decorated Christmas cookies just for the fun of it.
By the time we get to the middle of December, I kind of wish to never see another Christmas cookie again, and I’m not even the one who has to decorate them these days,” she added with a laugh.
“So, trust me, there’s nowhere I’d rather be. ”
Wes kissed her again, pulling back quickly to avoid getting caught by Emma. Andrea wasn’t sure what he had told his daughter about their relationship—if that’s what it could be called, anyway—but she wanted to respect whatever boundary he’d set.
They headed inside and found Emma filling a large plastic bowl at the sink, while Crumpet ran around the kitchen sniffing at the baseboards and cupboards. “I thought he might like a drink,” Emma said before placing the bowl carefully on the floor by a back door that led to a small fenced-in yard.
Andrea smiled. “That was very thoughtful of you.”
“See?” Emma said, directing this to her father. “I know what dogs need! I could take care of one.”
Wes held up a hand even as he smiled. “Just enjoy Crumpet for today,” he said in a measured tone. “And let’s work on getting these cookies started. I haven’t had breakfast yet and I am starving!”
Andrea started to unpack the bags and looked over her shoulder at Emma, as the girl tried to coax Crumpet to the water.
“I wasn’t quite sure what kind you wanted to make,” Andrea explained as she set various ingredients across the counter.
The kitchen was cozy, with warm wooden cabinets, a butcher-block island, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air.
“Sugar cookies are obviously the classic, but we could get adventurous and make butter cookies, shortbread, or even gingerbread.”
Emma’s eyes got bigger with each variety listed. “Do we have time to make them all?”
Wes chuckled. “I don’t think so. Let’s pick one, for starters. You were talking about sugar cookies last night, Em.”
“Okay.” Emma rolled up the sleeves of her pajamas and went to wash her hands with the dedication of a surgeon scrubbing up for a procedure.
Wes caught Andrea’s eye and they shared a quiet smile before Andrea shifted gears into baking mode. “All right, Miss Emma, I’ve got a job for you—” she began, setting out the recipe and instructions for the girl.
The two of them made a good team, with Wes largely observing and swooping in to clear things away as they were no longer needed, keeping tabs on dirty dishes and supplies.
Though he did indulge Emma when she enlisted him to be the official master of the rolling pin, using the logic that he had the biggest arms, and therefore was best equipped for the job.
And Andrea certainly didn’t mind watching him work.
Despite Crumpet’s antics and begging efforts, they managed to get the first batch of shaped cookies in the oven by noon and started working on the decorations.
“That looks pretty good!” Andrea said as she set aside a large bowl of white icing. “Now, let’s decide on some colors!”
Emma grinned as Andrea handed over the container filled with small food coloring jars. Each jar was labeled with the color’s name, ratios of base colors, and a small box with the approximate color, like a paint sample chip.
Wes chuckled as Emma began a one-sided debate with herself, studying the colors and the shapes of cookie cutters on the counter. “We need the red, of course,” she said, plucking a tiny jar and setting it to one side. “And blue. But which one?”
Andrea caught Wes’s eye over his daughter’s head and smiled.
The kitchen was warm and fragrant with the fresh pine of the Christmas tree in the adjacent room and the smell of the cookies starting to bake.
A basket of pine cones sat on the eat-in kitchen table.
Emma’s art adorned both doors of the side-by-side fridge.
Boots and shoes sat in a neat row by the back door.
Pegs held coats and scarves and mittens in a rainbow of colors.
It was all such a contrast to her neat and orderly life in Los Angeles, but she found that she didn’t mind one bit.
It took some time, but as the oven timer chirped, indicating the first batch of cookies was done, Emma had decided on her initial selections, and Andrea started mixing bits of food coloring into separate bowls of the base white, explaining the process to Emma as she determined how much of each color needed to be added to achieve the proper shade.
Emma, for all her energy, was intently focused on Andrea’s every word and motion, eager to try for herself.
She was a quick study and took direction easily, as Andrea helped her achieve the exact right shade of pink.
Wes retrieved the tray from the oven and let out an appreciative whistle, before declaring the cookies the perfect shade of golden brown.
“You’re really good at this!” Emma told her as they admired the rose-petal shade of pink frosting. “You should do a cookie cookbook.”
“Maybe someday. For now, I’m still finishing one about cupcakes. And to tell you the truth, I’m having a little trouble with the final few recipes.” She smiled and looked down at the girl, a new idea emerging. “What would you do if you could make almost any kind of cupcake?”
The question seemed to delight the young girl, who immediately screwed up her face in consternation, her eyes glittering with possibilities. After a moment, she tilted her head to one side and declared, “What about a banana split cupcake!”
Wes chuckled. “There’s an old-fashioned soda fountain in town, and when Emma gets a good report card, we celebrate by sharing a banana split.”
Emma nodded vigorously. “But it doesn’t have cake! And I think that’s what it’s missing.”
Andrea nodded, already considering the idea.
Bananas and cherries would be simple enough.
But the pineapple? She wasn’t sure how she could incorporate all of the elements into a cohesive dessert the size of a cupcake.
“I think it’s a great idea!” she told the girl, not wanting to dampen her creativity.
In fact, she’d seen other bakers use ice cream cones in lieu of traditional cupcake wrappers, and while she hadn’t tried it herself, they did make for a cute presentation. And they photographed incredibly well.
“Or what about a Shirley Temple cupcake? That’s my favorite drink,” Emma said before tapping a finger against her small rosebud lips. “What if there was a way to make the frosting fizzy?”
Wes chuckled and placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of fizzy frosting before.”
“Now, let’s check these cookies out.” He handed Emma a spatula. “I’m assuming you would like to do the honors?”
It wasn’t really a question, as Andrea quickly learned.
Wes informed her that Emma was the official pancake flipper on Sunday mornings, and the girl showed excellent technique as she dispatched the cookies from the baking sheet and placed them on the wire rack.
The cupcake conversation was set to the side as they began decorating their first batch of cookies, with Emma already deciding which one she would give to the various friends she would be seeing at the sleepover later that afternoon.
The mention of the sleepover—and more so the girl’s impending absence—reminded Andrea of the night ahead. It wouldn’t get her any closer to hitting the submit button on her manuscript, but she was ignoring that part for the time being. Mostly.
They decorated nearly three dozen cookies, and were waiting on the fourth and final batch to finish baking when Emma’s phone buzzed against the counter and played a song Andrea recognized but couldn’t quite place. Emma jolted to grab the phone from the far end of the counter.
“It’s Renee!” she said, holding up the screen. “She probably wants to talk about the sleepover. I’ll be back, okay?”
Wes nodded, and the girl darted out of the room.
Once Emma was out of earshot, Wes came over and placed a hand on Andrea’s hip, drawing her toward him, glancing down the hall to make sure Emma hadn’t doubled back.
“Thanks for doing this,” he said, tracing his thumb across her cheekbone, swiping away a faint trace of powdered sugar.
“She’s having an absolute blast. I can tell this means a lot to her. ”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me, you know?
” Andrea replied with a smile. She wanted him to kiss her, but knew it was best not to press her luck.
She also knew that if they started, it would be almost impossible to stop, and therefore likely best left for after Emma was gone.
“I’m happy to be here. Emma is so smart and curious. She’s an absolute delight.”
“That she is.” Wes chuckled.
“Are you still planning to come over after you drop her off with her friends?”
Wes’s eyes darkened. “Only if you’re sure. I know you’re really busy, and this has already taken up so much of your day, so I didn’t want to—”
Andrea grabbed the front of his flannel shirt. “I’m sure!” she replied, grinning widely. “Please distract me.”
Wes leaned down and kissed her, and she melted into him, the world fading for a moment, until the sound of thundering feet on the stairs overhead made them break apart.
In her haste to put some space between them, Andrea inadvertently clipped one of the small mixing bowls with her elbow, sending it teetering over the edge of the counter.
On instinct, Andrea flicked out her hand as the bowl fell, losing a tendril of magic. The spell caught the bowl in mid-air before she realized her mistake. Panic spiked in her brain and she yanked the magic back to herself, with a reflex, like touching a hot pan.
But it was too late.
Wes was staring at her, wide eyed.
He’d definitely seen the spell.
Andrea froze in place as the bowl hit the floor and splattered blue frosting across the tiled floor.
Time moved in slow motion as Wes blinked, then followed the bowl as it rolled and bumped into the cupboards, before his eyes snapped back up to meet hers. “Andrea, are you—”
Emma burst into the room, her blue eyes wild as she stared at Andrea, her mouth open. “You’re a witch!”