“You need anything before I go?” I linger in the doorway.
“I’m good. Go play hero.”
“Hardly heroic. It’s just baking.” I laugh, stepping away from her room. “Love you!”
In the kitchen, I find a shopping bag and start filling it with everything I need to make my favourite cookies, the ones Mum used to make when I was a kid. I grab the recipe card from the box in my pantry, a big baking tray, some vanilla extract, icing sugar, cornflour, and a big container of sprinkles. Hopefully, Maevyn has everything else we’ll need.
I make my way next door, and after knocking a few times, I’m greeted by Aurora with a streak of flour over her shoulder and a silent cry for help in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she gasps, then pushes the door open and pulls me inside.
“I wasn’t expecting it to be so…” The words die on my tongue as I take in the disaster area that was formerly their kitchen. “Bad.”
“Okay, I think it was the baking soda. I definitely didn’t read this as teaspoons.” Maevyn walks out of the pantry, staring at a piece of paper in her hand.
She has fuzzy socks pulled up her calves and tiny shorts just peeking out from under a button-up shirt that falls off one shoulder. Dishevelled has never looked so good. In fact, on her, it looks downright sexy.
“Need some help?” I drop my bag onto the barstool and not the benchtop covered in flour.
Maevyn’s gaze flies to mine. “West? What—ah—what are you doing here?”
“Face it, Mum. We need help,” Aurora says, sitting on the other barstool.
Maevyn takes a moment to look at the space around us, surveying the mess that stretches over every surface of theirkitchen. I see the second she realises she’s in over her head, then she looks at me with a resigned sigh. “Turns out, I may have overestimated my baking abilities.”
“Again,” Aurora mutters beside me.
“Okay.” I clap my hands together. “First things first. Aurora, you go through the list in the bag and make sure we’ve got everything, and I’ll start cleaning the kitchen.”
Aurora starts searching through my bag, then dashes into their walk-in pantry.
“What do I do?” Maevyn asks, soft and sweet and unlike anything I’ve ever heard from her. I’m used to the fierce feminine side of her, not the vulnerable mum, and dammit, it just makes me want to know who she really is underneath all the layers she seems to hide behind.
I put my hands on either side of her shoulders, dropping down slightly to look directly into her eyes. “You clean the benchtop, and I’ll do the dishes.”
She nods, and I start to pull away, but then she grips my forearm. Her warm palm holds me in place as she looks at me from under long, dark lashes.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Don’t mention it.” My thumb rubs over her shoulder, where her shirt has slipped down, granting me access to the stars inked on the soft skin there.
“We’ve got everything,” Aurora says brightly, breaking the moment as she comes over to us, ingredients piled high in her arms.
I step over to the sink and start filling it with hot, soapy water so we’ve got clean mixing bowls and measuring cups, while Aurora and Maevyn get to work on clearing the island bench. At some point, Aurora cues up a playlist, filling the kitchen with song after song that they both laugh and sing along to. Both of them are terribly off-key, but still, something nestles comfortablyin my chest as I watch them. Like I’m right at home in their presence.
I stand between the two of them once we’re ready to start. They each take a bowl, and we measure out two batches of my mum’s fairy bread cookie recipe. Aurora is so much like her mum; show her the ropes and then step aside so she can do it herself. She still checks with me at every step to make sure she’s doing it right, but she’s definitely got that drive in her to learn as much as she can to be able to do things independently. I wonder if it stems from them being on their own. Maevyn said she hasn’t had any help in raising her from day one. I hate thinking of all the tough times she may have endured alone along the way, but at the same time, her strength and bravery are so damn hot.
Aurora tells me all about school, her new best friend, Ever, and the short film project they were just assigned. She earned her scholarship through the drama program, which is her favourite subject along with English.Definitelynot sport.
Maevyn, on the other hand, needs a lot more guidance with assembling her cookie dough, not that I mind.
“So, I’m not just dumping this all in at once?” Maevyn asks, looking between the bowl of wet ingredients under the mixer and the bowl of dry ones in her hand.
I move to stand behind her, my hand covering hers where it hovers over the first bowl, the other on the mixer handle.
“You’re going to slowly sift this in.” I shake our hands together, letting the mixed flour fall into the bowl. “Then mix them together.”
I grab the bowl off the mixer base and hand her a wooden spoon. Covering her hand with mine, we stir all the ingredients together until they slowly fold into one.
