From the corner of my eye, I watch for Josie’s reaction. Her brows lift, and I have no doubt she nipped that situation in the bud.
“I wanted to do whoops and poops,” Jay grumbles.
“Because you’re a child and like saying poop,” Abby shoots back.
“Abs,” Josie warns. “Jay, tell us how your day was. If you want to say whoop and poop, feel free.”
Jay makes a face at Abby, sticking out his tongue. “My whoop was lunch. It was peanut butter fudge day. Didn’t have a poop.” He cracks a smile, and Abby rolls her eyes to the ceiling.
“What about you?” Josie asks, turning to look at me. “How was your day?”
I tilt my head back and forth. “Pretty good day. A couple weeks ago Austin asked if I’d take over the studio’s accounting to help Penny out. I’ve spent the week updating some systems and spreadsheets. My day got even better when I saw those two math tests, though,” I say, looking first to Abby then to Jay.
When I dare to look at Josie, her mouth is slightly parted, brows cinched. “You’re working at the studio?”
I explain what Austin told me about Penny and her music. Josie falls quiet, those silvery blues regarding me.
“Mom, you haven’t done your day,” Jay says, bringing Josie from wherever her thoughts had gone.
“What?”
“Your day. Was it good?”
“Oh, right. My day.” Josie sighs. “Well, my students were off-the-chain wild. You’d think teenagers would be marginally calmer than children the day before the start of break, but you’d also be wrong.” Josie picks up a tube of icing, and one wall of their house.
“Get any gifts?” Abby asks, waggling her brows.
“You already know I did, or you wouldn’t be asking me that, child. Yes, Will Killian brought me a Christmas present.”
Abby makes a fake retching sound. Clearly I’m missing something. The look I’m wearing must say as much, because Abby makes a face and says, “All the guys have crushes on Mom. They call her a MILF.”
I wheeze out a laugh before I can stop myself.
“What’s a MILF?” Jay asks, wheels turning in his brain.
Everyone freezes mid-decorating, each of us glancing around at each other. Jay’s brows are narrowed in confusion.
“Mom in Lumpy Form,” Josie responds, each word spoken slowly, like she’s coming up with them on the spot. Jay’s face scrunches, and it’s obvious he’s unsure whether to believe her. But then he shrugs and turns back to decorating.
We fall quiet, smearing icing and placing gumdrop decorations on our houses. Every so often, from the corner of my eye, I spot Jay sliding pieces of the candy decor to Smudge who sits at his feet. Murmurings can be heard from Josie and Jay, plotting out their house.
Abby paints windows on with the icing as I place the candy in neat little rows on the roof. Our house is shaping up to be niceand tidy, everything equally spaced. Abby must think so, too, because she bends her finger and measures with her knuckle to check the spacing of each window.
“Did you know the distance of that knuckle is about an inch?” Abby asks when she catches me watching her.
“I did not know that,” I say.
Abby nods and resumes measuring. This kid has so much of me in her.
Gingerbread houses complete, Abby sets our tidy house on the counter. Then, with a dramatic flourish, Josie places hers and Jays next to ours. Either their kit came with supplies ours was missing, or Josie is a gingerbread house building genius.
While ours looks like a traditional house, Josie and Jay have constructed The Shire fromThe Hobbit, complete with a grass roof and round door. Mouth agape, I look back and forth from the house to Josie and Jay, both wearing matching smirks.
Josie gives Jay a high five and runs a victory lap around the kitchen, Smudge hot on her heels, chasing her like this is the best game he’s played in a while.
“Is she always like this when she wins?” I lean in to murmur in Abby’s ear.
Abby looks up and gives me a long suffering look. “Mm-hmm. Try not to encourage her. She’ll tire out eventually.”
