She watched through the oven window as the cookies flattened, but to her horror the balls melted together, coating the pan and forming one giant cookie.
Fuck.
She had no idea when school ended but thought there’d be enough time to make another batch. This time she would roll the dough into smaller balls and space them apart so they wouldn’t touch.
A knock sounded at the door, prompting Poppy to bark.
Is school already out?
She opened the door to find Clayton on the other side, carrying a basket like Little Red Riding Hood.
“I guess this makes me the big bad wolf,” she said, glancing behind him. “Where are the girls?”
“They went to change out of their school clothes,” he said. “They’re riding their bikes down here.”
“What’s in the basket?” She stood on her tiptoes and peeked inside.
“Momma made her famous chocolate chip cookies.”
“Clayton!” she cried.
“What?” he asked, his eyes widening.
She motioned for him to enter and pointed to the mess in the kitchen. “I baked cookies for the girls, but the first batch didn’t turn out.”
“Didn’t turn out?” Clayton inspected the cookie sheet cooling on the rack. “Looks like they got real friendly in the oven.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”
“Haven’t you made cookies before?”
“No, actually, I haven’t.” She attempted to lift the giant cookie with a spatula but it shattered into a million pieces.
Clayton chuckled, the deep sound grating against her last nerve. He plucked a broken piece off the tray and popped it into his mouth. “Not bad, actually. Could use a little less . . . burn.”
“Shut up, Clayton.”
“Look here,” he said, yanking the dish towel from the basket. “Nobody’s going to know the difference. We pass these off as yours, and it’ll be our little secret.”
Jamie wasn’t in the habit of lying to small children, but she wouldn’t have time to make a new batch. Anyway, it was his idea to lie to them, and she was just going along with it.
“You put up the picture,” Clayton said, pointing at the fridge.
She’d secured the girls’ drawing with anashville soundsmagnet, one that had already been on the fridge. “Yes, I did.”
The front door swung open and the girls dashed inside.
“Hi, Miss Jamie!” Charlotte said, breathing heavily. “We rode here super fast!”
“Girls,” Clayton said, holding out the basket. “Miss Jamie baked you cookies—chocolate chip, your favorite.”
They each grabbed a cookie and took a bite.
“Wow!” Emily said with chocolate stuck to her top lip. “These are better than Granny’s.”
Clayton grinned and nodded. “Now, don’t go telling her that.”
“Where’s Poppy?” Charlotte asked, reaching her hand inside the basket again.
