Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
We fell into a rhythm of mixing and pouring, slotting pans of muffins into the oven and starting new batches. We each had our assigned job and, if we didn’t have much skill, we at least helped things get done until she had box after box of finished muffins. She mixed up scones and started on a quiche.
“Since it's inching into fall, I thought I’d do a savory quiche and see how it goes over. Just something with squash and leeks and bacon. What do you think?”
“Bacon? I’m in,” I said.
We took over the chopping of leeks, Ethan learned how to dice the squash and I fried the bacon. By the time we’d beaten the eggs and added some cheese, we had decided on a double batch so we could try it ourselves. When the quiche came out of the oven, bubbling with cheese and smelling of sage and bacon, we were ready to eat. Noah had made coffee, and we had a late-night meal of quiche and muffins.
“That’s it, you can never leave,” Ethan pronounced. “This is incredible.”
“Thank you,” Madison said, her cheeks turning a little pink.
We exclaimed over the meal and helped her pack up the baked goods so she could store them in the shop freezer until they were needed. When she refused our offers to follow her and make sure she got home okay, Noah and I took off. As I was leaving, I decided to turn back and hug her.
“I had a great time. Your muffins are amazing.” I said, kissing the top of her head. She hugged me back and thanked me for my help. It felt so good to hold her, and part of me didn’t want to leave.
9
MADISON
“I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun,” I confessed as I was cleaning up the kitchen. “Is that the lamest thing you’ve ever heard? I mean it makes it sound like I’m ready for bingo at the retirement home.”
“Not at all,” Ethan said. “It was a great night and even better with you here.”
“I appreciate you letting me tag along, and I can’t thank you enough for letting me come use your kitchen. The ovens are amazing.”
“Thanks,” he said. “My magazines always liked them.” I grinned.
“You seemed so intimidating when I met you. I wouldn’t have guessed that you’d be funny. Or, you know, real.”
“Because I seemed like AI? Computer generated forbidding older brother?” he said wryly.
“Exactly. You seemed like one of those scary-smart people who frightens everyone by making jokes like that, about AI and stuff, and we all just stare and try to understand it. But you’re human. It made me feel a thousand times more comfortable.”
I finished loading his dishwasher and started the cycle. “You really don’t mind if I leave this stuff here?”
“You’re right. You should lug home that fifty-pound mixer and bring it back in the morning,” he said.
“Alright, I’ll leave it. So, you guys have always been like that?” I couldn’t help asking. “Like the best of friends?”
“Pretty much. We argue and stuff from time to time, but we’ve always been really lucky to have each other. Most people, I think, aren’t as close to their siblings as we are.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, are your parents still around?”
“Yes and no. They’re alive and well, living in Miami. I retired them after my first big commission and got them a place where it’s warm. They love it. Mom learned to golf. Dad’s writing a book about the Cuban missile crisis or something,” he said. I smiled.
“That’s so sweet,” I said.
‘What about yours?”
“They’re okay I guess.”
“You guess? You don’t see them often?”
“Last time I talked to my mom, I invited her to the opening of my shop. She and her boyfriend had other plans.”
“Opening your own business is a pretty big milestone. I’m sorry they didn’t come.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t really expect her to come. When I turned eighteen right before I graduated high school, she let me know that I would be moving out as soon as school was over in May. I guess she figured she’d put in her time raising me and wanted her own life.”
“That’s harsh,” he said, and the way his brow furrowed told me he didn’t think much of my mom.
“She took care of me when I was little. She wasn’t bad. Just never wanted to be a mom. She got caught out and had me. She was young, and her parents kicked her out. She waited tables and eventually got line work at a factory out in Jersey. I had food and shoes and a winter coat and stuff. We went roller skating on my birthday one time, and she was so good, Ethan. She could go in the middle of the rink. She could spin so fast and everything. It makes me sad to think about it now because I see how carefree and strong she must have been before life got her down. I begged her to teach me.”