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Drying off the berries on a phenomenal amount of slowly turning pink paper towels, we set them aside as we stood on either side of the counter.
David quickly tossed them into the garbage before I had a chance of reusing them.
“Wasn’t sure which kind you’d need.” He pointed to the three small bags of flour and read out the ingredient list as I pulled the bag of white flour toward me. It was petite-sized; it wouldn’t last a month in our house.
“Food processor?” I searched. David shook his head. “No problem, I’ll freeze up some forks. Those would be?”
“Drawer beside the fridge. Third space from the left.”
And what a drawer. I didn’t know they made organizers with so many spots. Dessert forks, dinner forks, small spoons, large spoons, knives, and spots for the can opener, several other items I wasn’t sure of their purpose, but they each had a place in his perfectly arranged drawer.
After throwing a couple of forks into the freezer, I grabbed the measuring cups off the counter and unhooked the bottom one. “You’ve never made a pie before, right?”
“No.”
“Then I think it’s high time you got messy and learned.” I winked. “Best way to learn is by doing.”
“That’s why you’re here though. I’ll watch you mix it all together.” He pulled up a stool and sat at the counter.
“I ain’t no Henny Penny.”
“Hey,” he scoffed and leaned on the counter, narrowing the distance between us. “I helped pick berries.”
“Yes, you did.” And how much fun was that? Who knew? “However, you’re going to dig in, and I’m going to show you how much fun baking can be.”
“Do you bake a lot?”
“Sometimes Vera and I will make muffins, but as a rule, I’ll whip them together while she’s in school or at camp. She has dietary restrictions, so I’m a wee bit of a worrier when it comes to her food.”
“I’ll send you home with a bucket of berries then.”
“Oh, no. You don’t have to do that.”
“They’ll go bad here.”
I shook my head. “Freeze them on a parchment-lined cookie sheet and put them into a Ziploc when they’re frozen.”
“Really?”
I set the measuring cup down. “Seriously? You didn’t know that?”
“I’ve never had to do this.”
Yeah, he didn’t strike me as a guy who knew his way around a kitchen, not in his own home anyway, and overseeing what his staff were doing wasn’t the same.
“Well then, it’s high time you learned.”
I grabbed an apron off the back of the pantry door and walked over to him, fastening it to his body. Slowly tying the straps together while checking out the build of his shoulders and inhaling the light cologne fragrance. For good measure, I tapped his back when I was done, and released my breath.
“All done?” There was a playfulness on the tip of his tongue which was going to be my undoing if I didn’t watch myself.
“Yup.” Calming the race of my quickened heartbeat, I walked back over to my side. “Add your dry ingredients into a sieve first. Do you have one of those?”
“Yes,” he said and pointed to the pantry.
I opened the well-organized space, shocked at the labeling and detail. All cans were facing label side out, and all boxes were divided into proper groups of pasta, cereal, and crackers. Mine, by contrast, was wherever there was room, that’s where it went. Finding the metal sieve was an easy task, and I stepped back out with it in my hand.
“Where did you learn to be so—”
