Once that’s finished, I start my dry ingredients, peeking back at Brady as I stir. He looks up as if I’ve called his name, and winks.
I turn my attention back to my task, afraid his winking will make me spill my flour. Next up I add brown sugar to my brown butter and stir. Once it’s combined, I add the remaining wet ingredients, then add that to the dry, and stir. Finally, it’s time for the butterscotch morsels.
But they’re not on the counter. After a quick look in the pantry, I don’t see them in there either.
“What the hell?” I murmur, standing in the pantry doorway and looking out at the rest of the kitchen. Brady looks up, swivels his head to look for me, then finally locates me.
“How’s it going over there?”
I shake my head slowly, still looking around. They were here before I went to get Brady from his cabin. I took them out of the pantry and set them on the counter myself. “It appears I’m missing an ingredient.”
“Can you substitute something?”
“They won’t be butterscotch without the butterscotch.” My chest deflates a little. It would’ve been nice if these had gone off without a hitch.
Grandma walks into the kitchen, her little red toolbox in her hands. “Something sure smells good.” She pats Brady on the back and walks over to the glass mixing bowl, peering down. With a devilish grin, she pulls a utensil from a drawer and spoons a bite of batter into her mouth. “Raw egg can’t hurt me,” she announces.
“Grandma, do you know what happened to the butterscotch morsels I had out on the counter?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Those things were so old, they may have been older than me. I threw them away.”
I nod, disappointed, but also a tiny bit relieved to know I won’t be making anybody sick with a badly outdated ingredient.
“I was surprised to come in here earlier and see all the baking stuff on the counter.” Her spoon makes a loud, clanging sound as she tosses it in the sink.
“There’s a thing for Lonesome Day. A baking competition that I’m entering. It’s not a big deal—”
Grandma’s eyes flash. “I know about that competition, and don’t you dumb it down. It’s a big deal. I’m proud of you.”
I smile at her, but I feel bad. I came here to help with Sweet Escape. If I win the competition, I’d be leaving her in a lurch.
“Thanks, Grandma, but I don’t have to enter. I haven’t officially put my name in the hat yet. I know I said I’d help you here and that will be my priority.”
Grandma waves her hand around as if shooing away my words. “Don’t be ridiculous. What do you think I do the rest of the year when you’re not here?”
“Hire a part-time college kid?”
“Exactly. And I can do that again.”
I look to Brady and he shrugs and lifts his hands, telling me he’s staying out of this one.
“Smart guy,” Grandma says to him. “Are you Addison’s baking assistant? What’s that called? A sous chef?”
“Something like that,” I say, and at the same time, Brady shakes his head.
“I don’t go near baking or cooking. Addison asked me to keep her company while she worked.”
Grandma looks from me to Brady, and it’s not hard to guess what she’s thinking. She can be so transparent when she wants to be. I know she wants me to move on. I just don’t know how to take that first step.
“Can I have your Jeep keys, Grandma? I need to run to the store.”
Brady pushes back his chair and stands. “I’ll drive, if you don’t mind? I might forget how to if I don’t practice every once in a while.”
I smile at his joke and Grandma pulls her keys off the hook she keeps inside a cabinet. She tosses them to Brady.
“I’ll back it out and meet you out front,” he says to me.
I’m untying my apron when Grandma speaks. “I say you should go for it.”
