Читать книгу Christmas Trio B - Debbie Macomber - Страница 35

Chapter Four

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Lead me not into temptation. I can find the way myself. —J. R. Finley

“I thought we’d bake cookies today,” Holly said on Saturday morning as Gabe sat at the kitchen counter eating his breakfast cereal. When he didn’t think she was looking, he picked up the bowl and slurped what was left of his milk.

“Cookies?” Gabe said, frowning. “Can’t we just buy them?”

“We could,” Holly answered, “but I figured it would be fun to bake them ourselves.”

Gabe didn’t seem convinced. “Dad and I always got ours at the store. We never had to work to get them.”

“But it’s fun,” Holly insisted, unwilling to give up quite so easily. “You can roll out the dough. I even have special cookie cutters. After the cookies are baked and they’ve cooled down, we can frost and decorate them.” She’d hoped this Christmas tradition would appeal to Gabe.

He slid down from his chair and carried his bowl to the dishwasher. “Can I go on the computer?”

“Sure.” Holly made an effort to hide her disappointment. She’d really hoped the two of them would bond while they were baking Christmas cookies. Later, she intended to go into the office and put up decorations—with Gabe’s help. She wanted that to be fun for him, too.

Gabe moved to the alcove between the kitchen and small living room with its sofa and television. Holly was astonished at how adept the eight-year-old was on the computer. While he logged on, she brought out the eggs and flour and the rest of the ingredients for sugar cookies and set them on the kitchen counter.

Gabe obviously didn’t realize she could see the computer screen from her position. She was pleased that he was writing his father a note.

From: “Gabe Larson”<gabelarson@msm.com>

To: “Lieutenant Mickey Larson” <larsonmichael@goarmy.com>

Sent: December 11

Subject: Cookies

Hi, Dad,

Guess what? Aunt Holly wants me to bake cookies. Doesn’t she know I’m a BOY? Boys don’t bake cookies. It’s bad enough that I have to put the toilet seat down for her. I hope you get home soon because I’m afraid she’s going to turn me into a girl!

Gabe

Holly tried to conceal her smile. “Would you like to go into the city this afternoon?” she asked as she added the butter she’d cubed to the sugar in the mixing bowl.

Gabe turned around to look at her. “You aren’t going to make me go shopping, are you?”

“No. I’ll take you to my office. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Yes,” he said halfheartedly.

“I have to put up a few decorations. You can help me.”

“Okay.” Again he showed a decided lack of enthusiasm.

“The Rockefeller Center Christmas tree is up,” she told him next.

Now, that caught his interest. “Can we go ice-skating?”

“Ah …” Holly had never gone skating. “Maybe another time, okay?”

Gabe shrugged. “Okay. I bet Billy and his dad will take me.”

The kid had no idea how much that comment irritated her. However, Holly knew she had to be an adult about it. She hadn’t phoned Bill to discuss the fact that his son and her nephew were friends. She would, though, in order to arrange a playdate for the two boys.

“I thought we’d leave after lunch,” she said, resuming their original conversation.

“Okay.” Gabe returned to the computer and was soon involved in a game featuring beasts in some alien kingdom. Whatever it was held his attention for the next ten minutes.

Using the electric mixer, Holly blended the sugar, butter and eggs and was about to add the dry ingredients when Gabe climbed up on the stool beside her.

“I’ve never seen anyone make cookies before,” he said.

“You can watch if you want.” She made an effort to sound matter-of-fact, not revealing how pleased she was at his interest.

“When we go into the city, would it be all right if we went to Finley’s?” he asked.

Holly looked up. “I suppose so. Any particular reason?”

He stared at her as if it should be obvious. “I want to see Telly. He can do all kinds of tricks and stuff, and maybe Mrs. Miracle will be there.” “Oh.”

“Mrs. Miracle said I could stop by anytime I want and she’d let me work the controls. She said they don’t normally let kids play with the toys but she’d make an exception.” He drew in a deep breath. “What’s an ‘exception’?”

“It means she’ll allow you to do it even though other people can’t.”

“That’s what I thought.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on the counter, nodding solemnly at this evidence of his elevated status—at least in Mrs. Miracle’s view.

As soon as the dough was mixed, Holly covered it with plastic wrap and put it inside the refrigerator to chill. When she’d finished, she cleaned off the kitchen counter. “You want to lick the beaters?” she asked.

Gabe straightened and looked skeptically at the mixer. “You can do that?”

“Sure. That’s one of the best parts of baking cookies.”

“Okay.”

She handed him one beater and took the second herself.

Gabe’s eyes widened after his first lick. “Hey, this tastes good.”

“Told you,” she said with a smug smile.

“Why can’t we just eat the dough? Why ruin cookies by baking ‘em?”

“Well, they’re not cookies unless you bake them.” “Oh.”

Her response seemed to satisfy him.

“I’m going to roll the dough out in a few minutes. Would you help me decide which cookie cutters to use?”

“I guess.” Gabe didn’t display a lot of enthusiasm at the request.

Holly stood on tiptoe to take down the plastic bag she kept on the upper kitchen shelf. “Your grandma Larson gave these to me last year. When your dad and I were your age, we used to make sugar cookies.”

Gabe sat up straighter. “You mean my dad baked cookies?”

“Every Christmas. After we decorated them, we chose special people to give them to.”

Gabe was always interested in learning facts about Mickey. Every night he asked Holly to tell him a story about his father as a boy. She’d run out of stories, but it didn’t matter; Gabe liked hearing them again and again.

“You gave the cookies to special people? Like who?”

“Well …” Holly had to think about that. “Once I brought a plate of cookies to my Sunday school teacher and one year—” she paused and smiled “—I was twelve and had a crush on a boy in my class, so I brought the cookies to school for him.”

“Who’d my dad give the cookies to?”

“I don’t remember. You’ll have to ask him.”

“I will.” Gabe propped his chin on one hand. “Can I take a plate of cookies to Mrs. Miracle?”

Holly was about to tell him that would be a wonderful idea, then hesitated. “The problem is, if I baked the cookies and decorated them, they’d be from me and not from you.”

Gabe frowned. “I could help with cutting them out and stuff. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t want any of my friends to think I’m a sissy.”

She crossed her heart. “I promise not to say a word.”

“Okay, then, I’ll do it.” Gabe dug into the bag of cookie cutters and made his selections, removing the Christmas tree, the star and several others. Then, as if a thought had suddenly struck him, he pointed at her apron. “I don’t have to put on one of those, do I?”

“You don’t like my apron?”

“They’re okay for girls, but not boys.”

“You don’t have to wear one if you’d rather not.”

He shook his head adamantly.

“But you might get flour on your clothes, and your friends would guess you were baking.” This was a clever argument, if she did say so herself.

Gabe nibbled on his lower lip, apparently undecided. “Then I’ll change clothes. I’m not wearing any girlie apron.”

“That’s fine,” Holly said, grinning.

The rest of the morning was spent baking and decorating cookies. Once he got started, Gabe appeared to enjoy himself. He frosted the Christmas tree with green icing and sprinkled red sugar over it.

Then, with a sideways glance at Holly, he promptly ate the cookie. She let him assume she hadn’t noticed.

“Who are you giving your cookies to?” Gabe asked.

Actually, Holly hadn’t thought about it. “I’m not sure.” A heartbeat later, the decision was made. “Jake.”

“The man in the toy department at Finley’s?”

Holly nodded. “He did something kind for me on Friday. He bought my coffee.”

Gabe cocked his head. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Oh, no. But he’s very nice and I want to repay him.” She got two plastic plates and, together, they arranged the cookies. Holly bundled each plate in green-tinted cellophane wrap and added silver bows for a festive look.

“You ready to head into town?” she asked.

Gabe raced into his bedroom for his coat, hat and mittens. “I’m ready.”

“Me, too.” The truth was, Holly felt excited about seeing Jake again. Of course, there was always the possibility that he wouldn’t be working today—but she had to admit she hoped he was. Her reaction surprised her; since Bill had broken off their relationship she’d been reluctant to even consider dating someone new.

Meeting Jake had been an unexpected bonus. He’d been so—She stopped abruptly. Here she was, doing it again. Jake had paid for her coffee. He was obviously a generous man … or he might’ve been in a rush to get back to the store. Either way, he’d been kind to her. But that didn’t mean he was attracted to her. In reality it meant nada. Zilch. Zip. Gazing down at the plate of cookies, Holly felt she might be pushing this too far.

“Aunt Holly?”

She looked at her nephew, who was staring quizzically at her. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Oh, sorry … No, nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking maybe I should give these cookies to someone else.”

“How come?”

“I … I don’t know.”

“Give them to Jake,” Gabe said without a second’s doubt. “Didn’t you say he bought your coffee?”

“He did.” Gabe was right. The cookies were simply a way of thanking him. That was all. She was returning a kindness. With her quandary settled, they walked over to the subway station.

When they arrived at Finley’s, the streets and the store were even more crowded than they’d been the night before. Again Holly kept a close eye on her nephew. She’d made a contingency plan—if they did happen to get separated, they were to meet in the toy department by the robots.

They rode up on the escalator, after braving the cosmetics aisles, with staff handing out perfume samples. Gabe held his nose, but Holly was delighted to accept several tiny vials of perfume. When they finally reached the toy department, it was far busier than it had been the previous evening. Both Gabe and Holly studied the display of robots. There did seem to be fewer of the large boxes, but Jake had assured her there’d be plenty left by the time she received her Christmas bonus. She sincerely hoped that was true.

The moment Gabe saw Mrs. Miracle, he rushed to her side. “We made you sugar cookies,” he said, giving her the plate.

“Oh, my, these are lovely.” The grandmotherly woman smiled. “They look good enough to eat.”

“You are supposed to eat them,” Gabe said with a giggle.

“And I will.” She bent down and hugged the boy. “Thank you so much.”

Gabe whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, but I helped Aunt Holly make them.”

Holly was standing close enough to hear him and exchanged a smile with Mrs. Miracle.

“You should be proud of that,” Mrs. Miracle said as she led him toward the Intellytron display, holding the plate of cookies aloft. “Lots of men cook. You should have your aunt Holly turn on the Food Network so you see for yourself.”

“Men bake cookies?”

“Oh, my, yes,” she told him. “Now that you’re here, why don’t we go and show these other children how to work this special robot. You can be my assistant.”

“Can I?” Wide-eyed, Gabe looked at Holly for permission.

She nodded, and Mrs. Miracle and Gabe went to the other side of the toy department. Holly noticed that Jake was busy with customers, so she wandered down a randomly chosen aisle, examining the Barbie dolls and all their accoutrements. She felt a bit foolish carrying a plate of decorated cookies.

As soon as he was free, Jake made a beeline toward her. “Hi,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“Hi.” Looking away, she tried to explain the reason for her visit. “Gabe wanted to check out his robot again. After that, we’re going to my office and then Rockefeller Center to see the Christmas tree … but we decided to come here first.” The words tumbled out so quickly she wondered if he’d understood a thing she’d said.

He glanced at the cookies.

“These are for you,” she said, shoving the plate in his direction. “Sugar cookies. In appreciation for my latte.”

“Homemade sugar cookies,” he murmured as if he’d never seen anything like them before.

He continued to stare at the plate for an awkward moment. Holly was afraid she’d committed a social faux pas.

“My mother used to bake sugar cookies every Christmas,” Jake finally said. His eyes narrowed, and the memory seemed to bring him pain.

Holly had the absurd notion that she should apologize.

“I remember the star and the bell.” He spoke in a low voice, as though transported through the years. “Oh, and look, that one’s a reindeer, and of course the Christmas tree with the little cinnamon candies as ornaments.”

“Gabe actually decorated that one,” she said.

He looked up and his smile banished all doubt. “Thank you, Holly.”

“You’re welcome, Jake.”

“Excuse me.” A woman spoke from behind Holly. “Is there someone here who could show me the electronic games?”

Jake seemed reluctant to leave her, and Holly was loath to see him go. “I’ll be happy to help you,” he said. He set the cookies behind the counter and escorted the woman to another section of the department.

Holly moved to the area where Gabe and Mrs. Miracle were demonstrating Intellytron. A small crowd had gathered, and Gabe’s face shone with happiness as he put the robot through its paces. In all the weeks her nephew had lived with her, she’d never seen him so excited, so fully engaged. She knew Gabe wanted this toy for Christmas; what Holly hadn’t understood until this very second was just how much it meant to him.

Regardless of the cost, Holly intended to get her nephew that robot.

Christmas Trio B

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