“If you can’t see it, then no. I guess there isn’t. All done,” she said with a flourish as she handed my spatula back to me. Her cake was crumb coated to perfection. Just the thinnest layer of icing to keep the thicker layer from picking up any scraps.
“You’re hired,” I called out as she walked back down the hall toward the bathroom.
“Can’t wait to start,” she hollered back.
I cleaned up the kitchen and packed the cakes and icing to store in Mom’s large fridge in the garage. It was next to the freezer where Dad stored meats in the winter. I was going to have to invest in some more fridge space for my apartment.
Back in the kitchen, Mom began prepping for her lasagna. I was almost jealous I wouldn’t be here to eat it.
The girls were busy coloring at the kitchen table as my dad and Nate came through the mudroom, with Aspen trailing behind them. Her eyes were glued to Nate’s ass like a bug drawn to a bright blue light. Not that I could blame her. He had a great ass, and when he turned around and leaned on the kitchen island, I saw how well the denim formed around the curves.
Normally, I’d call Aspen out for her perusal, but I let it slide. I got to see it up close and feel the muscles with my own hands.
Aspen and I had a weird relationship. We never really got along, though I tried. But I was the overly girly girl, while Aspen grew up as the tomboy who enjoyed farming with my dad.
I’d never told her, but I was always jealous of the time she got to spend with him. I used to think it was because she was the baby, but as I got older, I realized it was because she was the only one who showed any interest in what he was doing.
“Hey, Aspen,” I called out, catching her off guard. When she turned around, her eyes were the size of saucers. “Would you want to help me teach Molly and Eloise how to play Go Fish?”
Her shock gave way to a beaming smile as she agreed and offered to grab the deck of cards. I helped the girls stow away their crayons and coloring books. By the time Aspen returned, the table was clear and ready for a match.
It took a bit of trial and error, but by the fourth round, the girls figured out the game. Thirty minutes later, they’d turned into card sharks before our very eyes. I’d never been prouder.
“I think they’re sneaking cards under the table. Look, she has eight matches already. We just started this round!” Aspen exclaimed. The girls hadn’t been sneaking cards under the table, but they’d been holding onto cards from previous games. I caught them doing it the last round.
“Just play the game, Aspen. They’re four, almost five years old.”
She harrumphed but went on playing.
“We turn five in August. Dad says we can have a big party,” Molly informed us.
“Oh, that sounds fun. What kind of party would you like?” I asked.
“Tabitha had a petting zoo at her house when she turned five. I want a petting zoo like that. She even had horses.”
Aspen and I stared at each other. I didn’t realize birthday parties had become so elaborate. Were clowns not a thing anymore?
“Well, that certainly sounds like fun.”
Nate joined us in the kitchen a few moments later and gathered the girls up to head back to the old farmhouse. I followed their lead.
I took a quick shower to get all the flour and icing out of my hair—an occupational hazard. I’d never gone to a showing, so I wasn’t sure if there was a certain way I needed to dress. I opted for a seersucker knee-length skirt with a matching top. It exposed a band of my waist along the top of the skirt.
There was some time to kill while I waited for Nate, so I took the time to blow dry and curl the ends of my hair. After a few swipes of mascara, I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the room's corner.
I cleaned up nicely, though I did look like I was going on a yacht cruise. But I thought I looked pretty.
This is not a date, I had to keep reminding myself, but my mother’s words were bouncing back and forth in my head.
I waited downstairs with the twins as they continued coloring their pictures they started at my parents’ house. They asked to sit out on the deck, and I lounged on a chair, soaking in the late-afternoon sun.
Rory stepped out onto the deck a few minutes later with her best friend, Franny, in tow. I greeted them both and told the girls I’d be right back. Franny offered to sit with them while my sister and I went back into the house. As a kindergarten teacher, she was in her element amongst the crayons and sheets of paper.
“Thanks again for doing this.”
“It’s no sweat. We’re going to have a fun time. Those girls are so sweet.”
I went on to tell her all the things I learned they liked over the last week. She laughed when I told her all about our 1990s-themed slumber party the night before.
