He threw her a look. “Stop it. Stop being perfect right this minute or I’ll…I’ll…”
“Kiss me again?” she asked hopefully.
“Yeah. That’ll happen.”
She settled into her seat, unable to stop smiling.
Red took charge of their small mid-week family dinner, and Gracie couldn’t be more grateful for her grandfather’s skilled touch when it came to comfort food. Tonight, he’d made a cast-iron pot of chili, taken some down to the lodge, and kept a portion for the three of them to enjoy.
Gracie sat at the round kitchen table, her head still at Sugarfall, with New Year’s Eve just a few days away. They were almost done eating, and Benny and Red were deep in conversation about the upcoming dog talent show, chatting about whistles and tricks and what treats and toys Santa should bring.
“I don’t know, Grandpa,” Benny mused, sliding a spoon around his chili. “I like the idea of Santa, but it’s New Year’s Eve. Maybe we should think bigger.”
Red’s eyes flashed. “Things never go good when you suggest that, Benny-bean.”
“But Santa’s so anticlimactic.”
“Anti…” Red snorted. “You were paying attention when we did that crossword puzzle, weren’t you?”
Benny just grinned. “Am I right? We need Santa to do something more exciting. Got any ideas, Mom?”
“Something fun from the bakery?” she suggested. “We could bring New Year’s Eve popcorn balls for the kids.”
“Popcorn’s awesome, but only fun if we make it,” Benny said, then sat up as an idea occurred.
“We have a popcorn machine out in the back of the garage,” Red said, chuckling as though just thinking about that thing made him laugh.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Gracie said. “It’s a hundred years old and won’t work without propane and…prayer.”
“The Cornucopia? Not quite a hundred years old, but it works,” her father said defensively, turning to Benny. “My father, your great-great-grandfather, Owen Starling, built that machine for the first Summit County Fair out in Coalville when I was younger than you.”
“Really?” Benny’s eyes grew wide. He was always fascinated by the family history.
“Yes, sir. He used an old wheelbarrow as the base, put a brass kettle under glass, added a copper spout, and if you put a bowl just so”—he held out an imaginary container—“it’ll catch the corn as it pops.”
“Cool!” Benny exclaimed.
“Daddy called it Starling’s Superior Snacks. He ran a booth at that fair every August until Cora and I took over years later.” He looked off into the distance, lost in a memory. “I loved that contraption.”
“Let’s bring it to the contest!” Benny said, bouncing with excitement. “We could make popcorn for everyone and I bet I can figure out a way to tie it into Newton’s laws.”
“Or just fake it,” Red said on a laugh. “Who’s gonna know but you?”
He rolled his eyes. “Olivia.”
“Whoa, hold up there, boys,” Gracie said, stopping this popcorn train before it got any further down the tracks. “We can’t?—”
She looked down at the table when her phone buzzed. She’d left one of her top bakers at Sugarfall to work on two cakes, so she flipped the phone, hoping there wasn’t a problem at the shop.
At the sight of Sam Sutton’s name on the screen, her heart dropped.
Of course he was calling to cancel. Of course he’d made a promise he wouldn’t keep. Of course Benny would be disappointed.
“Sorry,” she muttered, standing up to take the call and get the bad news without Benny having to hear. “I have to…talk for a second.” She added a cautionary finger, ready to steer them away from the popcorn machine, but she was probably about to crush Benny in another way. So she tempered her warning. “Be sure you two know what you’re doing with that thing.”
Benny and Red exchanged a secret smile, which was never good.
But neither was a call from Benny’s father about to deliver a dose of disappointment.
