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“So, I have a deal for you,” he ventured.
“Oh?” Samara raised a suspicious eyebrow, her blue eyes clearly radiating that she thought this was some sort of trick.
“It’s nothing bad. You don’t have to always think the worst,” he rebuked gently, aware he was being extremely hypocritical.
“Okay, fair point.” Samara nodded and deliberately relaxed her face. “So, what’s this deal you want to make?”
“I want you to teach me how to grow bonsai trees.”
“Oh,” Samara said again, this time her eyes widening in surprise like that was the last thing she had expected him to say. “Why do you want to learn that?”
“Because it’s important to you,” he said simply.
Samara smiled. “Okay, I can teach you. We can get you your own tree. An elm maybe, they’re pretty easy to grow, a good one to learn on, and it’s the same one that I grew for my first. Since you're going to be here for a while, I can help you as you learn the basics and we’ll get your tree growing.” Samara’s cheeks had tinted pink and her eyes were glowing as she talked about the hobby she adored. But then abruptly she sobered, the wariness back. “If I’m going to teach you to grow bonsai trees then what do I have to give you?”
“I thought we could make some decorations for Asher’s party.”
“Christmasdecorations?”
“Yes, Christmas decorations,” he said even though he knew she knew that. Michael knew she hated Christmas, he just hadn'trealized she hated it this much until he had walked into her house yesterday and seen that she didn't have a single Christmas decoration anywhere. He wanted to get to the bottom of just why she hated a holiday that almost everyone else loved, but not today. “Your nephew is going to be two. He’s going to be so excited with his birthday and Christmas, I bet he’d love it if his favorite aunt brought decorations to his party.”
“Way to guilt me into saying yes, Mike.” Samara pouted.
“So, is that a yes?”
She sighed, long and deep, but then she nodded. “Yeah, it’s a yes. What are we making?”
“Paper chains and strings of popcorn,” he said with a grin. Clearing away the dishes and setting them in the sink, he then grabbed the sheets of paper he’d cut up in between cooking and the bowls of popcorn he’d prepared earlier. “I thought we could make red and green paper chains, and some gold and silver ones too. Do you want to dye the popcorn different colors or leave it as it is?”
“Whichever you want,” Samara said with an amused smile.
“Let’s color it. I bet Asher would love rainbow popcorn strings to put on his tree. I’ll color the popcorn. Why don’t you start making the paper chains?” He put butter and sugar into a pot and melted it, then added water and vanilla and stirred. Once the mixture was boiling, he turned it down and let it simmer, adding the food coloring once it reached the correct temperature. Pouring it into a bowl of popcorn he stirred until all the pieces were colored and then put the popcorn onto a pan and into the oven to bake for a few minutes.
Before he repeated the process with another color, Michael turned to watch Samara. She was busily taking strip after strip of paper, alternating between red and green, and had already made the chain several feet long. While she wasn't smiling, she looked relaxed and happy to be performing the mindless task, but hedidn't want her to be just going through the motions, he wanted her to be enjoying this.
“Want to help me make the next color?” he asked.
“I’ve never colored popcorn before,” Samara replied, looking up.
“That’s okay, it’s not hard, I’ll show you how.”
“Okay,” Samara said, a little uncertainly as she pushed back from the table and joined him at the stove.
“Put two tablespoons of butter and one cup of sugar in the pot,” he instructed. When she had done that, he said, “Just stir it until the butter melts, then we put in three quarters of a cup of water and half a teaspoon of vanilla extract and bring it to the boil. Then we let it simmer until it reaches 238 degrees.”
“Are we using a candy thermometer like when you make fudge?”
“Yep,” he nodded. “You should make some fudge to take to the party.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said.
“Come on, you makethe bestfudge I have ever tasted.” Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment, but she smiled. Michael wished he could make her smile more often. “As soon as it reaches temperature we add the coloring, then we get it into the bowl with the popcorn and cover it. Then we bake it for a few minutes.”
“It’s boiling,” she announced, already reaching for the thermometer and turning the heat on the stove down to let it simmer.
“It sure is. What color do you want to do this time? I did red already.”
“Then green I guess. They’re the Christmas colors, right?”
