CHAPTER 8
LAINEY
The sharp knife cuts into the chocolate squares that are my specialty. They’re melted chocolate and molasses then throw in some cookies and candy canes. With the casserole dish on the counter, I carefully divide the portions.
“So proud of you for using the Dash brand of molasses.” Gracie brings her spatula to her heart because she is midway through taking the shaped holiday cookies off the cooling rack on the other side of the kitchen. Bear Dash is a local must. The owner of the hockey team also comes from a family that owns a famous syrup and molasses company.
“I think we are almost ready to do more decorating.” I assess my kitchen that has every type of cookie, bar, and fudge known to mankind. It’s our annual tradition.
I notice Enzo and Gracie with spoons scooping up the remaining cookie dough in the bowl.
“Hey!” I playfully swat him. “There is raw egg in that.”
Splat.
My attention swings to Gracie whose spoon has fallen into the bowl at record speed.
Lines form on my head because this isn’t Gracie; she would eat a whole tub if she could. “What’s up with you? You always eat the chocolate chip dough.”
“You know, I just decided that I’ll focus on the powdered sugar for the puppy chow.” She quickly grabs the plastic bag that holds cereal.
I’m puzzled by her weird demeanor, but when Enzo begins to whine, I refocus on him who hasn’t listened, and I just give in and let him have one more bite before stealing the bowl away.
“It’s not fair,” he complains. “You and Auntie Gracie get to stay up and eat cookies.”
I grab a tin to start distributing all our goods. “We are not eating them…all. And you already decorated a bunch of cookies; we are just going to finish the rest. So please, get ready for bed. You have school tomorrow.”
He groans and begins to stomp away. “Fine.” There is attitude in that voice.
“Don’t forget the elf is watching and reporting to Santa every night,” I remind him with my voice raised as he disappears around the corner.
Gracie chuffs a laugh as she plants herself down on a stool and grabs a bowl of icing to decorate the last of the snowflakes.
“We are almost done. I’ll decorate the polar bear cookies.” I grab one from the pile of dreidel- and stocking-shaped cookies, and instantly my face puzzles as I hold up the shape. “You didn’t”
She smiles slyly at me. “Oh, I did.”
“Seriously? I have young eyes in this home.” I try not to burst out laughing that my friend made a dick-shaped cookie.
“It’s holiday-themed. Maybe Santa is well-endowed. Or maybe your neighbor is.” She smiles cheekily.
Instantly, my entire body sinks. I’m thankful that hockey season means Tyler comes and goes due to the game schedule. I’ve had a little escape. I updated Gracie on what happened as soon as I got home from making a fool of myself.
“I’m such an idiot,” I mutter.
“You were in the moment and emotional. It happens. Kudos to him for putting a stop to it. See, chivalry isn’t dead.” She points the tube of icing at me.
Rolling my eyes, I throw her inappropriate cookie to the side and opt for a more classic-styled shape. “I just can’t believe I did it.”
“Let it go. Maybe he’s forgotten about it. I mean, they’ve had like, what? Away game after away game. His mind might be occupied.”
“Since when did you learn their schedule?” Something is up with her.
She chuffs a laugh. “I… I didn’t… Only guessing.” I give her a few seconds of my confusion as I try to figure it out before letting it go.
To be honest, I’ve only looked at the score of one of Tyler’s games. Mostly, because I’ve been busy. It’s prime craft season at school. We have a lot of December holidays to cover, using different-colored bottles of glitter.
“I think they haven’t had the best of games, lately,” I say.
