“My kids should be here soon,” I say.“I’m so glad you and Quinn could make it.”
“Sadly, my husband’s stuck at work.That happens a lot.”She brushes her hands together as if to clean them off.From what?I have no idea.“What exactly are we doing?”Mrs.Shanahan arches an eyebrow.“Painting treats, no?”
Jack rolls his eyes.“I told you, Mam.They cut and color the cookies.It’s going to be great fun.”
She compresses her lips.
Trish starts to fume.“I’m Vanessa’s mother,” she says.
“Mother-in-law,” I clarify.“She’s my late husband Jason’s mother.She lives with us here.”
“I’ve heard working mothers usually leave the care of their children to others.”Mrs.Shanahan tsks.
“Oh, Vanessa very much cares for her own children in addition to working.I’m here because it’s the happiest place in the world for me, close to my beautiful grandchildren.”
“How nice for you.”Mrs.Shanahan smiles.
And then my kids finally pull up outside, and they come at us like a hurricane of backpacks, jackets, and chattering.“—the cookies without the legs and arms.They always break or overbake.”I can’t tell whether Bryce is sharing his wisdom or arguing with Trina.
“That’s stupid,” Trina says.“Mom would never overbake them.”
Arguing, of course.
“Besides,” Trina says.“The ones with the arms and legs are the best ones, like the Santa Claus cookies, or the stars.”
“Stars don’t have arms or legs, dummy,” Trace says.
Mrs.Shanahan looks appalled.
“We don’t say dummy,” I say.
“No,youdon’t say dummy,” Trace says with a grin.“We say it all the time, because it’s better than saying?—”
“That’s enough,” I say.“Go wash your hands so we can start making some cookies.”
Trish is already preheating the oven.“They’re in high school.Of course they’re energetic.”Her muttering is cute, like Trace and Bryce need to be defended.
“Alright.”I gesture at the variety of cookie cutters while Trish starts pulling the dough and the paints out of the fridge.Trina’s already grabbing the kitchen paintbrushes out of the pantry.“You can pick any cookie cutters you want, but the thicker the dough and the bigger the shape, the longer they take to cook.I usually roll out the dough so they’re consistent in thickness, and we try to cluster the shapes in similarly sized baking pans.”
Trish points at the pans on the counter by the sink.
“You can pick a partner and share a pan, or you can do your own pan and just know you’ll have to wait patiently for your turn at baking.”
“I call Twina,” Rory says.“She and I will make the pwettiest cookies.”
“With lots of sprinkles,” Trina says.“Right?”
“And the colored sugar,” Rory says, but it sounds like ‘cowuhd sugah.’Poor thing is really trying.You can tell her speech classes have been helpful.I’ve noticed improvement in her s-es in just the few months I’ve been here.
“On the far side, we have the painting station, then the little decorations are on the side closest to the oven.Once it bings, we’ll be ready to start baking.”
“And what are we doing with all these cookies when we’re done?”Mrs.Shanahan asks.
“Eating them,” Ryan says.“Duh.”
She smiles.
“We often choose some to fill plates for our friends,” I say.“So of course you’re all welcome to take some home as well.”
