“Whoa, one step at a time, lady.” He waved his hand slowly.
I ignored him and reached for the small bowl of cream cheese I’d whipped earlier, the scent of vanilla and honey curling softly in the air. The kitchen still smelled like herbs and woodsmoke and something faintly sweet, and for the first time in days, it didn’t feel like the calm before something terrible.
It just felt like a kitchen in my cozy cottage because I’d nearly mastered compartmentalizing in my midlife.
“Fill,” I said, giving a gentle flick of my wand.
The cream cheese lifted in the air and folded itself neatly into the center of the dough.
Twobble made a small, strangled noise.
“Are you okay?” I asked without looking at him.
“I don’t trust it,” he said immediately.
“That sounds like ayouproblem.” I grinned wider. “Not ameproblem.”
He wiggled his green finger next to me. “I’ve been burned before. Not physically, metaphorically.”
“Actually, if memory serves, you’ve been burned because you stuck your face in the oven.”
“I was inspecting!” He frowned and whipped his slender hands to his tiny hips. Today, he wore nothing more than a too-long shirt and a patchwork vest.
“You were eating directly from the oven.”
“I was tasting for quality!” He shrugged. “Why take it out if it’s not ready?”
I snorted despite myself and waved my wand again. “Foldensia.”
The edges of the dough curled inward, sealing the cream cheese inside like a proper pastry. It even gave a little twist at the top, like it was proud of itself.
I stared at it.
“You see that?” I whispered.
Twobble leaned so close that his nose nearly touched it.
“I see it,” he whispered back. “And I don’t believe it.”
“It looks… right.”
He nodded, flashing a grin. “It looks suspiciously right.”
I didn’t even care. I lifted my wand with a grin that felt a little too big for my face. “Bake.”
A soft warmth spread across the mat in a steady, golden glow, wrapping around the pastry like sunlight.
Seconds passed.
Then more seconds.
We watched the pastry rise slowly, as it turned a light golden color. My stomach rumbled at the sight.
The lavender scent deepened, blending with the cream cheese and honey until the whole kitchen smelled like Stella’s tea shop.
I lowered my wand, eyes wide. “Twobble.”
“I’m looking,” he said, just as wide-eyed.
