Chapter Twelve #2
“You probably have your own, also.” It was a kind prompt for sharing, she was sure.
Ally shook her head. “Not really. My family was a bit different from others. But I think it’s time we get started on that baking.
I know you don’t want to spend an entire Saturday on such a thing.
” She stood up and began clearing their empty glasses.
Jillie stood and followed her example. Matt let the subject drop and soon Ally was handing them each an apron from the pantry.
“I found these, and I think they’re great. And what a coincidence, they have your names on them,” she said with a grin as she handed a pink and white one with ruffled trim to Jillie, and a navy and white checked one to Matt.
“Another of Tori’s ideas. She had these done up for when we cook out or whatever over here in the spring and summer. I don’t think she would mind in the least if you used hers.”
“Dad, we need to get Ally an apron of her own, too.”
Matt looked at his daughter and Ally was about to say something when he spoke.
“That’s a good idea. We’ll have to do that.” Why hadn’t he played it off and rerouted the child’s thinking so that she didn’t express her ideas before he spoke? It was a nice idea but then again, she wouldn’t be here long enough to ever wear it. That dimmed the moment until he spoke again.
“Ready when you are, Chef. How hard can it be to bust out a few cookies?”
*
Ally had to fight back several smiles and bite off a few laughs over the next three hours.
The sheriff had found out how hard a ‘few cookies’ could really turn out to be.
For the first batch she had given him simple instructions to follow, but they’d ended up being very crispy instead of the soft, chewy morsels they were supposed to turn into.
In fact, crispy was a compliment to the blackened misshaped blobs on the cookie sheet.
Whereas Jillie’s were coming along nicely, the sheriff gave it a good second try.
“Perhaps instead of salt, you use the sugar instead?” Ally gave her diplomatic assessment as Jillie spit out her bite of cookie from his second batch into the garbage.
“Why don’t I mix the batter and the doughs, you place them on the pans and roll out the dough on the others for me? We’ll have an assembly line.”
Matt looked at her, then he looked down at his apron.
“Why is it that you stay so pristine as you cook and even Jillie only has a little patch of flour and a butter swipe on her apron? Whereas I’m hard-pressed to find a spot that isn’t covered with some ingredient on my apron.
It looks like I rolled myself in the flour instead of the dough. ”
“Well,” Ally considered, her words meant to be constructive, “they say that the mark of a truly great chef in the making, is that he really looks like he gets into his food. That would be apt in your case.”
Jillie burst out laughing. Ally bit the inside of her cheek to hold back. Matt looked at them both.
“You both would crack the first minute in an interrogation—if it took that long. Nice try, but I think the saying goes that when a chef is larger in size it means that the food is good enough for even him to eat. Or some such notion. But I appreciate the effort to spare my feelings.”
“Good idea that you become my sous chef in the baking department,” Ally capitulated.
“Which is a fancy way of saying, Dad,” Jillie had to add, “that you get to be on sink duty.”
“That I can do.”
Ally shook her head. “That comes after you take the cookie cutters and make four dozen turkeys and four dozen maple leaves out of this sugar cookie dough I have waiting right here. Then I’ll keep an eye on it in the ovens and begin on the pastry dough recipe to give to Tillie for the rolls for Sunday at the café while you get started on the dirty pans. Sounds like a good plan.”
The phone rang and he smiled. “Saved by the bell—if I’m needed in my office.” His conversation was short and sweet.
“Let me guess, Dad, you have to go to the office.”
“Nope.” Matt shook his head and dropped the cell back into his shirt pocket.
“You, Miss Smarty-Pants, are going with your aunt, who is on her way to pick you up, to go have the fitting at Verna’s shop for your costume for the play.
Miss Verna needs to move your appointment up and Aunt Tori is taking you since she knows I’m elbow-deep in flour. ”
After a moment of thinking, he asked, “How did she know that?”
“Guess she knows you pretty well and made an educated guess when you mentioned you were helping make cookies,” Ally replied with a simple smile.
Jillian laughed, while untying her apron. “She got you on that one, Dad.”
“You need to wait on the porch for your aunt, so she doesn’t have to get out of the car in her condition.”
“Yes, sir. Bye and thanks a bunch for doing the cookies and all,” Jillie said and gave Ally a quick hug before she headed down the hall and outside.
“I can’t believe my daughter did that,” Matt said with a shake of his head.
“I’m sorry.” Ally felt unsure what to say. “She’s just a sweet girl and she likes to hug people and—”
“I can’t believe that she totally skipped me. What about my hug? Just because I’m standing here in a mess being the butt of jokes for my cookie-making skills and all. It has nothing to do with her hugging you.”
Ally felt more at ease. She gave him a rueful smile. “I see. It’s the male ego thing.”
He gave her a long look then walked around the corner of the wide island work area. She looked at him with a silent question. His hand rose and one fast finger slid down her nose, leaving a white line of flour in its wake. “You look better sharing in some of the messiness.”
Ally was at first speechless. Then something overtook her.
She raised her hand and with two fingers planted a trail of flour mixed with a bit of cookie dough across his cheek.
Then there was a dawning sensation of what she had just done…
about the same time his gaze darkened to jade and dropped to her mouth.
Was there any air in the room? Would he?
He wouldn’t dare…or would he? And then she had her answer when his lips brushed hers…
once. Then twice. And then he stepped back.
Perhaps just as shocked as she was? They both looked at each other in silence.
“You had some cookie dough on the corner of your mouth.”
“Thank you.” Then there she went again…the little devil inside herself that couldn’t stay hidden. She took a step and went up on tiptoe and her lips brushed his cheek. Then she stepped back. “Sorry, but you had some dough on your cheek.”
A small gleam appeared in his eyes and a corner of his mouth lifted at some unknown thought. “Maybe we better just use paper towels next time…or the rest of the dough might get used up.” Then he winked and she felt her cheeks grow too warm.
The timer on the oven went off like a loud clanging church bell in her brain’s way of thinking. Ally jumped back and grabbed for a potholder. “Must save the cookies.”
That sounded ridiculous to her the moment the words left her mouth. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of looking at him anytime soon. So, she kept busy on the other side of the kitchen. He did the same.
What had she gotten herself into by a sudden little mischievous prank? She knew better. Or did she?