Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Then he was there, and I got a whiff of the most delicious smell known to woman. “What should I do?” he asked.
There was no avoiding looking at him. Zoe aimed her innocent eyes at me as well. “Could you open that bag of chocolate chips?” I said, praying he couldn’t hear my thumping heart.
He picked up the bag that had only been a few inches from his hand. “This one?”
I nodded, fearing I couldn’t speak without sounding out of breath. Only I realized I had to tell him what to do with it. “Once you have it opened, pour about half the bag into this bowl.” I handed Zoe the spatula and stood straight. They needed this time more than either of them knew. Plus, I needed a second to catch my breath. “Now, Zoe, stir them in.”
It might not turn out to be the best chocolate chip cookies they’d ever had, but it was a memory both would have for a lifetime. The pair started giggling, and I took a step back.
James, Mitchell’s dad, appeared. He came over and softly said, “My wife secretly wished for a daughter, but it wasn’t in the cards for us after Mitch. She would have loved a granddaughter to spoil rotten.”
There was pain in his eyes, and I felt it too. I missed my mother deeply. I hoped she would be proud of the woman I’d become. I put a hand on his shoulder in silent condolence.
“You should help,” I told him. To the group, I said, “Next step is to scoop little balls of dough and put them on the cookie sheet.” I indicated the one I’d lined with parchment paper. I handed Zoe the tiny scooper made for this purpose.
We had Mitchell’s mother to thank for the cooking tools. Mitchell’s brother, Nate, had kept all the kitchen utensils, pots and pans that were in good condition.
I walked over to preheat the oven as the little family worked together. If I’d had my phone, I would have taken a video of the moment. The scene reminded me of times with my parents. Though I didn’t cry when I thought of them anymore, that didn’t mean I missed them any less.
I was lost in my head, and it was Zoe who dragged me out. “We’re ready,” she announced.
Sure enough, they filled the cookie sheet with perfectly imperfect balls of dough. “You do the honors,” I said to Mitchell, and prayed I wouldn’t blush like some love-struck teenager. “It will only take about ten minutes.” I set the timer.
After, I walked outside as Zoe peppered her father with questions. I needed air to collect myself. Surely I couldn’t be that affected by one man.
For those who hadn’t seen a Montana skyline, they were missing a view. Out on the porch, I had an unobstructed view of mountains, including the one I’d grown up on. There was nothing more beautiful in life.
There were times I wanted to go back to that simple life. Although it had been enough for my parents, Mom had wanted more for me.
“Hey.”
Startled, I put a hand to my neck and turned to find Mitchell standing far too close. Was that desire in his eyes? Then it was gone.
“The timer went off. They don’t look done, though.”
Get your head in the game, girl, I told myself. “Yeah, that’s okay. They are ready. We don’t want to overcook them.” I rushed past him to get the cookies out of the oven. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if we messed up the first batch. There was more dough. But I wanted this moment to be perfect for father and daughter.
James and his granddaughter watched as I haphazardly put on an oven mitt to get the cookies out of the oven before it was too late. I set them down and went to grab the cooling rack I’d set to the side.
“We will give them a couple minutes and then we will transfer them to the cooling rack,” I instructed.
“Why do we do that?” Zoe asked.
“If we leave them on the baking sheet, it’s hot and will continue to cook them. We don’t want that.”
“Who taught you this?” she asked.
“My mom,” I said, though we hadn’t cooked them in an oven like this. I’d forgotten the little girl’s mother was missing as she looked down. “I’m sure you and your mom will bake lots of cookies when she gets back. You can show her how.” I guessed she and her mom hadn’t baked cookies together, as she hadn’t known what to do and hadn’t mentioned doing it before.
It worked as Zoe brightened. “Yes. I can make her cookies when she gets home.” She looked up at her dad. “She will be home soon, right?”
Her hopeful gaze could melt the heart of any person. “I’m working really hard to make sure that happens,” he said to her.