God, there I go again.
My chest tightens.
But then Jasper’s saying something about glaze, and Lev’s asking if he can have three, and Dima’s moving closer to inspect my work, and the moment passes.
I’m okay.
I’m here. I’m baking. I’m surviving.
That’s enough.
I start making the cream cheese frosting. Butter, cream cheese, powdered sugar, vanilla. Simple. Classic. Perfect.
“Can I try the frosting?” Jasper asks.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll eat it all.”
“That’s a valid concern.”
I spread the frosting over the still-warm rolls. It melts slightly, seeping into all the crevices. Perfect.
“Okay,” I say. “Now you can—”
Jasper already has one. Takes a bite. His eyes close.
“Oh, fuck,” he says through a mouthful.
“Language,” Dima mutters.
“No, you don’t understand.” Jasper swallows, takes another bite. “This is… Mary, this is… I’m getting emotional.”
“It’s a cinnamon roll.”
“It’s a religious experience.”
Lev grabs one. Bites. Goes completely still.
“Well?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer. Just keeps eating. Reaches for a second one before he’s finished the first.
I look at Dima. “You want one?”
He moves forward. Takes the smallest one. Bites carefully.
His face doesn’t change. But he nods once. “Good.”
From Dima, that’s a standing ovation.
“See?” Jasper says. “I told you. Legendary.”
I pull one apart, take a bite. The sweetness hits first. Then cinnamon. Then that perfect yeasty bread flavor underneath.
It tastes like home.
