by Nancy Naigle
She pulled out another length and paused, waiting for confirmation from Joy.
“More,” Joy said.
“Even more?” Molly looked like she was taking all the candy out of an unattended trick-or-treat bowl. With nearly two feet of wax paper scrolled across the counter, Joy finally gave her the okay sign.
“Careful,” Joy reminded her.
Molly tilted the box and tugged.
“Perfect.” Joy plopped the big mass of dough out of the mixing bowl and right down on the paper. “Help me squish. We’re going to make one long skinny caterpillar.”
She and Molly squeezed, stretched, and tugged the mound into one long cylinder that went from one end of the wax paper to the other.
“Now, lift your end and I’ll lift mine. We’ll position it right at the edge of the paper. Okay?”
Molly picked up her end, and they made the maneuver.
Then Joy rolled the paper around the dough like one giant slice-and-bake cookie roll.
“One down,” Joy said.
“That was fun.”
“Yep. Maybe you can come spend the night when we bake for the big Crystal Christmas Cookie Crawl.” The words had just flowed right out of her mouth, surprising her as much as it had Molly, who looked absolutely delighted by the idea.
They made one more batch of cookie dough together and then took a break to eat dinner. Joy warmed up the fried chicken and macaroni and cheese while Molly set the table, singing quietly as she did,
Hey diddle, diddle, the plate is in the middle,
the cow jumped over the moon.
The fork is on the left,
the knife is on the right,
on the inside of the spoon.
She repeated the melody as she arranged the other place setting, then turned with pride.
“It looks beautiful.” Joy set the warmed food on the table and took a seat, gesturing to Molly to take the other. “Do you like the drumstick?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Joy’s heart filled with love for this sweet little girl. What she’d give to be able to take a quick video of this behavior to send to Margie as an example of what her children should know. There was no comparison.
“How was your day at school today?” Joy asked.
“It was good. I love my school. Everyone is really nice and we learn a lot of stuff too. Plus, we got to make those ornaments today. That was the most fun.”
“That’s good.”
“Sometimes we get to bring in snacks. Bobby’s mom brought us cupcakes today. They were little ones, so we didn’t even make a mess.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Yep.” Molly took another bite of her chicken. “I like making stuff with you. You’re nice.”
“Thank you. I think you’re nice too.” Joy dragged her last bite of chicken through the cheese sauce on her plate. “You all done?”
“Yes.”
Joy cleared the dishes, and Molly held open the dishwasher for Joy.
“We’re a good team.” Joy wiped her hands on the dish towel, and then started measuring out another batch of cookie dough. “You ready?”
Molly climbed up on the chair in front of the counter and held the measuring cup of flour over the mixing bowl. “Ready when you are!”
When Joy put the last cookie dough log in the freezer, she pulled out the first one they’d made and cut it in half. “Ready to make some cookies now? These are my very favorite kind.”
Molly’s eyes danced.
Joy set the preheat on the oven and got two cookie sheets out from the pantry.
“Okay, the trick to these cookies is that they shouldn’t be too thick. So we’re going to just take a little ball of dough and then kind of turn it into a log and flatten and curve it to look like the moon.” Joy plucked a small ball of dough and worked it in her hands into the shape she’d always remembered Aunt Ruby making. “Think you can do it?”
“Let me try,” Molly said.
Joy handed her a ball of dough. Molly worked it into a shape.
“Good, now just put it on the baking sheet. We want to leave some room around them, so not too close.”
“Right there?” Molly asked as she dropped her cookie on the baking sheet.
“Perfect. We should be able to get twelve on this sheet. Want to count with me?”
“Sure.” Molly counted out one and two for the ones they’d already put on the sheet, counting aloud as they each dropped their finished shapes onto the pan one by one.
“Twelve!” Molly said just as the buzzer went off on the oven.
They slid the first pan of cookies into the oven and Joy set the timer, then made the next twelve while she put Molly in charge of sifting confectioners’ sugar to roll the warm cookies in.
Powdered sugar wafted into the air like fog. Joy pushed the sleeves of her blue sweater up. The warm oven had made the kitchen more comfortable, chasing the chill right out of there.
The timer buzzed. “They’re ready.”
Joy grabbed the cotton loom pot holders from the drawer and slid the pan out onto the top of the stove.
“They smell good,” Molly said.
Joy inhaled the sugary smell. “Yes, they do.” She slid the second tray into the oven. “Let’s make another batch, and then those should be cool enough to put in the confectioners’ sugar.”
They balled and shaped the next twelve onto a sheet of parchment; then Joy held the warm baking sheet while Molly negotiated the big spatula to carefully remove each cookie and set it into the pan of confectioners’ sugar.
They’d moved only three cookies when the smoke alarm went off.
It was so loud that Molly dropped the spatula and put her hands over her ears.
Joy swung around and put the baking sheet on the table as she ran for the oven. Poking at the buttons on the oven, she turned it off, then tossed the hand towel from her shoulder to Molly. “Here. Fan this in the air near the smoke alarm.”
Molly swung the towel like a seasoned Pittsburgh Steeler fan as Joy dived in to rescue the cookies, but there’d be no rescuing these. They were burnt to a way-too-dark-brown crisp. Smoke streamed from the twelve charred nuggets as Joy carried the baking sheet out the back door to the trash bin.
Molly the Bunny lifted up on her hind legs, sniffing the air.
“No feedback from the funny farm,” Joy warned as she pushed through the screen door, opened the lid of the trash bin, and slammed the pan against it.
The bunny fell to all fours and hopped to the back corner of the cage.
“Everything okay?” Ben came running around the corner and slid to a stop when he saw her.
A flush raced up her cheeks. Why was it she always seemed to be telling this guy she could handle everything, and yet he was right there every time catastrophe struck? “I swear I am not always in trouble.”
“I’m beginning to get a complex.”
“Me too. I was joking when I said you were bad luck before, but now I’m really beginning to wonder. Were you supposed to come over tonight? Did I forget something?”
“No. I was checking the water for the trees. They take in a lot the first couple of days. I was over at the barn and heard the smoke alarm.”
“Baking mishap. We might have been having too much fun. The first batch came out perfect.”
“‘We’? Is Ruby home?”
“No. I’ve got a little helper.”
“Stove might run hot. Mom’s does. To the tune of about twenty-five degrees. It’s not all that uncommon.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I could check it for you.”
“I—”
“I know. You can do it yourself, but if I do it, I have a reason to get one of the still-warm perfect cookies you just mentioned.”
“Come on in.”
He followed her inside, where Molly still stood in the middle of the kitchen, flagging that dish towel as she’d been told. “You can stop now,” Joy said. “Thanks, Molly.”
&n
bsp; “Hi, Molly. I’m Ben.” He leaned forward slightly, getting closer to her level. “I’m Ruby and Joy’s friend.”
“Me too,” she said, brushing her sugared hands on her pants and then extending her hand to shake his.
Ben extended his hand and Molly shook it. He looked impressed. “How old are you?”
“I’m seven.”
“I bet you’re a big help in the kitchen.” He leaned over and stage whispered, “Looks like she needs some help.”
Joy pulled back, her brow arching. “Do I need to remind you the first batch was fine?”
Ben tapped Molly on the nose, causing her to giggle. “I’m going to check the oven so there won’t be any excuses to burn the next batch.”
“Good, because that was hard work, chasing the smoke out.” Molly rubbed her arm dramatically.
“I don’t think we have a thermometer,” Joy admitted.
“No need for one. I have a little trick up my sleeve,” Ben said.
“Of course you do. Else why would Ruby call you Handy Andy?”
Molly giggled, and Ben cut his eyes in Joy’s direction.
“You can dish out some digs in fun too. I like that in a gal.” He crossed the room. “Do you have any sugar?”
Molly and Joy burst into a fit of giggles. The entire kitchen was practically dusted in confectioners’ sugar.
Ben followed their glances toward the kitchen counter and swept a finger through the mess. Then he slowly turned and smudged three dots across Molly’s forehead and one right on the tip of her nose.
“Hey!” Molly said, raising her hands to her hips, then bursting into another fit of giggles.
“What?” Ben tried to look innocent, but Molly wasn’t buying it.
“You put flour on me.”
“No,” Ben said. “That’s not flour. That’s Christmas cookie flour and when you dot that on your skin during the holidays, then it turns into magic snowflake wishes.” He pointed to the dots. “See. All different. Just like snowflakes. But magic!”
Molly’s eyes popped big and then narrowed. “Really?”
“Really. My mom always used to give us snowflake wishes when we made holiday cookies for the community tree.”
“The tree at the hospital?” Molly balanced on tiptoes, eyes wide and looking very impressed.
Joy leaned against the counter. “What’s the community tree?”
“My mom started it years ago. She started out as a candy striper and then worked at the hospital once she earned her nursing degree. One of the first years she was there a group of them planted a live Christmas tree in the island outside the emergency room entrance. Mom said it was a pitiful thing. The next year she had this idea to convince folks to decorate it with homemade ornaments to make it look more festive. It’s become tradition. Families bake and decorate cookies with their family name on them and hang them on the tree. Some people make regular cookies, others make birdseed-and-suet-type concoctions in cookie shapes. Basically, it’s a little nature buffet for the local birds, and it’s fun, a place for neighbors to catch up.”
“Sounds like a neat idea.”
“Can we do that?” Molly asked.
“Sure. We could do that one morning before you go to school.”
“We’re a good team,” Molly said to Ben.
“If you’re going to be a team, then I think Joy could probably use some magic Christmas snowflake wishes too. What do you think, Molly?”
“Yes! Maybe we won’t mess up any more cookies if we have extra snowflake wishes!”
He swept two fingers from each hand through the sugary mess and gave Joy a double line of sugar stripes on each cheek. “That should make for four magical wishes. Hopefully enough for every kind of cookie you’re baking,” he said.
“Here.” Joy grabbed her phone and handed it to Ben. “Take our picture. We’ll send it to Ruby. She’ll be delighted to know we’re making baking progress.”
Molly and Joy struck a pose, and Ben clicked off a couple of pictures. “She’ll love them. Now, about that sugar. I need plain granulated sugar.”
“That I’ve got.” Joy picked up a tall ceramic canister from the counter and set it in front of Ben.
“Great.” Ben set the oven to 350 degrees. While the oven came back up to temperature, he placed a tablespoon of sugar in the middle of a cookie sheet.
“This is how you’re going to test my oven? That sugar will burn and stink up the whole kitchen even worse.”
“Trust me.”
“That’s what they all say.”
The preheat tone sounded, and Ben slid the tray into the oven, then set the timer for fifteen minutes.
“So, while we wait, tell me about this baking you two are up to. This looks like a serious amount of work.”
“Ruby asked me to prepare the dough for all the Crystal Christmas Cookie Crawl cookies, so I thought Molly and I would get started on some of that tonight. We decided to test my personal favorites.”
“The burnt ones?”
She gave him a playful glare. “Sand tarts, funny man.”
“My dad’s mom used to make those. Haven’t had those in years.”
“Well, if I can keep from burning the next batch, maybe I can hook you up with a few.”
The timer buzzed, and Ben opened the oven door. “Okay, see what we’ve got here?”
Joy and Molly peered into the oven.
“Melted sugar?” Joy said. “No surprise there.”
“Oh, but it is. Sugar should not melt at three hundred fifty degrees. It should, however, melt at three seventy-five. That tells us that this oven is running at least twenty-five degrees hot. Something Ruby probably knows by heart.”
“Thanks, Ben. That ought to save some more kitchen disasters, and that’s good news for us, isn’t it, Molly?”
“It sure is.”
“Unfortunately, we’re out of time tonight. I’ll put this last batch in, but it’s time for you to head to bed, young lady.”
“Okay,” she said without even an argument. “Will you tuck me in?”
“Sure.”
Ben said, “I’ll pop this tray of cookies in while y’all get ready for bed.”
“Thanks. Should be eleven minutes if the temperature is right.”
“Oh, it will be right on.”
“I know, I know. Trust me.”
He shrugged, and Joy and Molly headed upstairs.
Joy turned on the hall light and helped Molly get changed into her nightgown.
“I’m going to leave the hall light on for you.” Joy pulled the sheet up around Molly’s chin. “I hope you sleep good tonight.”
“Thank you, Joy. I had so much fun. It was extra-super fun. Even with the fire.”
“Me too, but it wasn’t exactly a fire. Just a little well done. And our secret, right?”
Molly zipped her fingers to her lips and turned an invisible key, then bounced her head in agreement.
“Cool.”
“I’ll peek in before I go to sleep, but if you need anything, you just let me know.”
As Joy left the room, Molly turned on her side away from the door and snuggled into the covers, pulling the bear into a hug.
A smile crept across Joy’s face. One that seemed to come all the way from her heart as she watched the young figure curl under the covers. Joy had to agree. It was a pretty special night.
In the kitchen, Ben was just pulling the cookies out of the oven. “Perfect.”
“They do look perfect. Thank you so much. How’d you even know to check that?”
“I told you that I like to fix things.”
“You’re good at it. I guess the nickname fits.”
“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t use it. I try to humor Ruby, but it drives me crazy.”
“Probably why she calls you that. She has a weird sense of humor sometimes.”
“She’s a neat lady.”
“The best.”
“Molly’s a good kid.”
“She is.
Thank goodness, because I really don’t know anything about kids. I kind of inherited her after Ruby’s fall.”
“You were doing fine.”
“Really?” That compliment meant more to her than she’d have expected. “Thank you. Molly’s made it easy.”
“She’s sweet, but I can see it. You’re a natural.”
Todd had always gone on and on about how she wouldn’t make a good mother because she worked so much, but until now, she’d never really considered it. “Thanks. Like you said, she’s a good kid. Fun to be around.”
“You’re more fun than I expected you to be.”
Joy readied herself to argue, then figured he kind of had a point. Every time they’d interacted, it was a disaster or a disagreement. Why would he think otherwise? “I could say the same about you.”
“Since there’s no damage here, this turned out to be a pretty nice way to end an otherwise problematic day. Even if you did move the largest Christmas tree too close to the goats’ pen. Hate to have to be the one to tell you that they ate the whole back side of it.”
“Funny.”
He raised his hand, pledging. “Not kidding.”
“They ate the tree? Like, bite-chew-swallow ate the thing?”
“Just like that. Right down to the white of the skeleton. Not a piece of pine bark left.”
“I swear I’m a walking disaster these days.” She ran her hand through her hair. “I can’t believe this.”
“We can make it work. In fact, I always tell Ruby that those fat trees are too big for the front room, but she insists. This might work in our favor. We can push it back another foot into the corner and really fill up the front with ornaments and lights.”
“And this means you’ll get your way.”
“A small win.”
“Hey, with Ruby, that’s a big deal.”
“I like the way you think.” He leaned in so close, she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. And it felt nice. The scent of pine rose from his jacket. And mixed with the sugary cookies, it was sexier than the finest cologne.
She stepped back and sucked in one last breath of him. “Well, I know how that is.” She kept her distance. “Um, thanks for your help tonight. With everything. With Molly too. I really felt in over my head, but when her mom stopped by and asked for my help, I couldn’t say no.”
“Looked like you knew what you were doing.”