Hallie didn’t want to say hi.
But Penelope took her hand and led her to the canine. Extending her own arm outward, she allowed the dog to sniff her palm. “Hold your hand like dis.”
Hallie followed Penelope’s lead, marveling at the way the sweetgirl was able to ease her anxiety even a tiny bit. Were all three-year-olds capable of showing such compassion? Or was Penelope just special?
Princess Pumpkin pressed her snout into Hallie’s palm. She jerked her hand away. This would take some getting used to. Forcing herself to push past the nerves, she brought her hand forward again, allowing the dog to continue sniffing. Seconds later, the dog’s soft, sandpapery tongue scratched her skin.
Penelope giggled. “She like you.”
Hallie hesitantly patted Pumpkin’s head. The retriever nuzzled into the touch, panting happily as she inched closer.
“You’re not so bad,” Hallie said, growing a little more confident in her strokes.
Penelope reached out to pet Pumpkin’s fur as well. “Her hair is soft. Good for hugging when you sad.”
Hallie smiled at her. “I’m sure it is.”
Finally convinced she wouldn’t be mauled by a rabid dog tonight, she stood, wiping her hands on her pants. “Okay, what would you girls like to do?”After washing the dog slobber off my skin?
Isla ignored her and sprawled onto the couch with her face in a picture book. Hallie would receive no suggestions from that corner. She turned to Penelope.
“Snack time?” the girl asked.
Hallie looked at her watch, realizing it was getting close to dinner time, and she hadn’t asked Christian what he’d planned. “Sure, let’s get you a snack to hold you over while I figure out dinner.”
Heading through the living room, she startled when a small hand slipped into hers. Penelope smiled up at her.I guess we’re holding hands tonight.
Once they’d passed into the kitchen, Hallie’s eyes stretched wide. Had they been robbed? The whole room was a disaster. Breakfast bowls littered the table, with more dishes stacked in the sink and surrounding areas. A pile of clutter took up most of the counter by the back door.
This wouldn’t do.
She helped Penelope into her booster seat, then cleared the table of the leftover dishes, setting them on the counter on top of an electric skillet that had bits of what looked like melted cheese stuck to the black surface. Then she searched the cupboards for a suitable snack. Isla hadn’t followed them into the room, so Hallie didn’t push her. She’d come when hunger struck, right?
In her search of the cupboards, she came across flour and sugar, giving her an idea of how to pass the time with the girls. She set a small bowl of pretzels and a yogurt pouch in front of Penelope, before returning to her task of gathering the ingredients to make her favorite snickerdoodles. She even found a bottle of cream of tartar wedged in the back corner of the spice cabinet. The expiration date was smudged beyond recognition, but the powder still held its white color, and no strange odors rose from it when opening the lid. It would have to do for now.
She gathered all the ingredients in the one counter spot not taken over by dirty dishes. “Would you like to help me make some cookies?”
“Okay!” Penelope bounced in her chair. “Isla! Come make cookies!”
Isla offered no response. Hallie paused in her search through more cupboards for mixing bowls to peek her head into the living room. Her heart hitched to find Isla still on the couch, her arms around Pumpkin.
“Isla?” Hallie slowly made her way toward her. “Are you hungry?”
The girl shook her head, and she traced a finger over the small heart on her thumb. The same icon Hallie had seen on Christian’s hand weeks ago.
Hallie watched her for a moment, the small hiccup indicating Isla’s tears pricking her heart. Again, the urge to hug the child came over her but she took a step back instead. “We’re in the kitchen if you need us. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”
Isla nodded, and Hallie returned to her search for the bowls in the kitchen. Finding two that worked, she placed them on the table since there wasn’t room on the counter. All the while, her thoughts remained on Isla, wishing she could do something to help her.
“First, we need to sift the flour,” Hallie said, opening the bag. “You don’t suppose your dad has a sifter, do you?”
Penelope blinked back at her.
“Probably not, huh? We’ll just do the best we can.” Hallie located some plastic measuring cups and plunged one into the flour. “Here, sweetie. Go ahead and dump that into this bowl.”
Penelope held the measuring cup high in the air before tipping it over and letting the powder fall. The force of the thump caused some of it to poof out onto the counter. She brought her free hand—which was already coated in white—to her mouth to cover her giggle.
“It’s snowing,” she squealed, setting the measuring cup down and swirling her fingers through the flour.
