I hung at the edge of the room, listening as Billy talked to the boys, not sure what I was supposed to be doing. I assumed Carson was still in the kitchen, but I didn’t feel comfortable wandering around the house on my own. Danny looked up at me and smiled. “Hey, Ezra, thanks for coming over. You wanna give me a hand getting everything set up?”
“Tell me what you need me to do.” I pushed up my sleeves and squirted my hands with the bottle of sanitizer sitting on a TV tray at the entrance to the dining room.
“I thought you could take a look at the icing bags and tell us if they’re right or not.” He sucked his bottom lip between his cheek as if he was embarrassed about something. He’d always been the quietest of the brothers, but it made no sense that he was nervous when I was the outsider. “We don’t use them much, but I thought you might prefer them since it’s how you decorate at the bakery. But then Blake said something about it being too thick, and now I’m worried I messed it up.”
I placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. That he’d thought of me and what I’d prefer was touching. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Is there more frosting anywhere?”
“Yeah, we go through an insane amount, so we made a bunch this morning,” he explained.
I peeled back the plastic on the bowl of white, gave it a good stir, and scooped some onto the knife. “It’s a bit thick. That’s good for spreading, but trying to pipe with this consistency will give you an RSI before long.”
“Huh, I guess that makes sense.” He finished filling the last little container of jimmies and set the storage box aside. “If you want to show me what you need, we can get it fixed.”
And that was how I wound up giving Danny an impromptu lesson about the different consistencies and what each was for. He portioned out fresh bowls of frosting and got to work coloring them. Blake joined us and pulled out more disposable bags while I thinned the icing to the perfect texture. “We can still use what you already have done. Those will be fine for adding details to the frosted cookies. I’m going to make some smaller bags at what’s called medium peak. That’s what I prefer for outlining cookies. Then, I’ll thin it out a bit more, and that’s what I’ll use for flooding the cookies.”
By this point, I had the attention of everyone in the house. They’d gathered around for my lesson on the more advanced fundamentals of cookie decoration. The feeling of so many eyes on me as I worked made me a bit queasy. I was acutely aware when Carson’s mom moved closer, watching intently as I tested the thickness of the icing to make sure it was ready for the first bags.
I turned to Carson. “Could you get me a glass or a cup?”
“Sure.” He quickly turned toward the cupboards, then turned back. “What type do you need?”
“Something tall and a standard-size opening. I’m going to use it for holding the bags open.” To the rest of the family, I said, “When you’re filling, it’s easier to use a cup instead of trying to hold it open. The bag will stay cleaner, and it’s less frustrating.”
There were murmurs about how much sense that made. I preened, loving how they hung on every word I said. Teaching wasn’t as scary as I’d expected it to be. Then again, I wasn’t sure the Langsford family was capable of intimidating anyone once they’d welcomed you into their house. Even the big, scary brothers were soft and squishy in their mom’s presence.
Carson returned, handing me the glass. I shivered when his hand rested on my shoulder before slowly sliding down my back. I glanced over my shoulder and smiled, silently thanking him for the reassurance and for including me in their day.
Eleanor waited until I’d finished bagging the white and thinning it for the flood consistency before telling her men it was time to get to work. That was the first time I realized she was the only female in the building. It was strange to me, but she seemed to love being the queen of the castle. And it was obvious the men all knew she was in charge. They scattered, Danny getting to work rolling out dough, Blake standing near the oven, ready to bake as soon as each pan was filled, and everyone else, with the exception of Carson, made their way to the dining room.
“Sorry about that,” he apologized as he pulled the top of the next bag over the top of the glass like I’d demonstrated. “I know that was probably uncomfortable as hell for you, but they loved learning about what you do. If you get sick of answering questions, feel free to tell my brothers to buzz off. They’re competitive as hell, and I wouldn’t doubt it if they all decide they’re master artists by lunchtime.”
“It’s okay,” I reassured him. And I was surprised to realize it really was. “When you invited me to join your family, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I don’t always do well around people I don’t know, so it was nice to have a way to break the ice.”
He slipped an arm around my back and drew me closer to him. “I like the way you fit in with everyone.”
I rested my head against his shoulder. “Me too.”
I’d always been the outcast in my family. Even before I’d announced I was going to college out of state, majoring in English instead of something useful, as my dad put it. Long before I’d moved home and figured out what I wanted to do with my life because I was over the college scene but didn’t have the necessary letters behind my name to do something in my field. I’d never fit in with them because I questioned rather than having blind faith.
But here, I felt as though my words had value.
The morning flew by. As Carson had warned, everyone wanted to learn how to decorate using my methods rather than simply slapping frosting on the cookies and drowning them in decorations. The results were…well, it was safe to say my position at the bakery wouldn’t be in danger from them any time soon.
“Boys, we’re done with baking the cut-outs, so I’m going to get to work on lunch,” Eleanor called out shortly after noon. I was probably the only person who was upset to hear she’d cut out the last batch of dough. I’d been hoping to spend some time in the kitchen getting to know her better, but the brothers and their families had kept me busy.
Lunch was every bit as chaotic as I’d expected. With the dining room table still covered in dried bits of frosting, sugar, and sprinkles, the only place to eat was in the living room. Blake sat on the couch with Danny on the floor in front of him. Billy took one of the chairs, and Michael sat in front of him. The boys huddled in the corner and chatted animatedly about how much fun they were having. When I looked around for a place to sit, I spotted Carson on the couch. He spread his legs a bit wider in invitation.
He leaned forward when I sat with my back against the front of the couch. “Are you having fun? If you want, I can run you home before we get back to work.”
“Are you kidding me? This is awesome.” I turned to face him, resting a hand on his knee. “I’m honored to be a part of your family’s tradition. They’re not nearly as intimidating as you said they’d be.”
“Hey now, what’s that supposed to mean?” Randall, Carson’s dad, protested. “You been telling tales about us?”
“Just about how insane you and Mom are about Christmas,” Carson admitted with a hint of challenge. “And if you try telling me you’re not, I’ll call you a damned liar to your face.”
My chest tightened and I held my breath as I waited for Randall’s rebuke. If I’d ever dared to speak to my dad that way, he’d have given me a tongue lashing I wouldn’t forget whether we had company or not. Instead, Randall held up his hands and started laughing. “I suppose it might seem that way, but someday, you’ll fall in love, and maybe then you’ll understand what it’s like to do whatever it takes to put a smile on that special someone’s face.”
“Pretty sure that ship’s getting ready to sail,” Danny muttered under his breath. There was something odd about the way Blake squeezed his shoulder and glared down at him. Danny turned to look at his husband. “I didn’t say anything everyone else wasn’t thinking, Da?—”
