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Grabbing an oven mitt, I open the oven, waving away a gust of acrid-smelling smoke, and remove the smoking tray of black bricks. I set it down in the sink and then open the window right above it, waving the smoke in its direction. So much for foolproof.
“I’m sorry!” I call out, frantic and frazzled. Abandoning the window, I go over to the smoke alarm, waving the mitt under it to try and clear the smoke. But because I have everything hardwired, my phone rings in my pocket. “Hello?” I answer.
“This is Alarm Monitoring. We received an alert of a fire in your kitchen. Do you need us to send the fire department and police?”
“No, no. It’s just some cookies that I burned.” Again. “Everything is fine.”
“Okay. Have a wonderful night, Dr. Barrows.”
I deflate. “You too.” Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I continue to work on the smoke detector until the thing finally shuts up—I swear it takes hours—and then I race back into the family room. Katy is sitting on the sofa, her ears covered and tears in her eyes. Mrs. Bible is still standing in the middle of the goddamn room, staring at me as if I’m the worst guardian in history.
Then again, she’s not exactly comforting my kid either.
“Katy, my lady.” I scoop her up in my arms and drop us both onto the sofa, tucking her on my lap. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t cry Monday, but Monday I caught the burnt cookies just before the alarm went off.
“It was loud.”
I run my hand down her hair and hug her against my chest. “I know, honey.”
“I didn’t like the beeping noise.”
I nod, rocking her into me as she sniffles. I can only imagine how traumatizing that was for her. The night of the accident was no doubt very loud between the sirens and being in the hospital, where everything beeps and everyone shouts.
“I’ve got you.” I kiss the top of her head, holding her closer. “No more baking cookies.”
“Next time we’ll just buy them.”
I laugh, sitting back and wiping her face. “Fully cooked.”
Her head bobs up and down.
“How about some popcorn instead after Mrs. Bible is finished here?”
“Okay.”
I hear the front door open and then two seconds later, Layla comes sprinting in. She’s wearing black leather pants and a black crop top that dips low in front showing off her cleavage—no bra as always—a good amount of smoky makeup and her hair is down in soft, silky waves. She looks hot and sexy as hell. Like she was out on a date.
My insides plummet into my feet, replaced by a swell of anger rising up from within.
“Hey!” Layla exclaims, treating me to a smile I haven’t seen on her all week. “What on earth happened in here?” She takes a couple whiffs of the air, and then her nose scrunches up.
“We burned the cookies,” Katy answers.
Layla giggles. “Again? I think we’re cookie-baking cursed.” She gives me an indulgent wink and then walks over to Mrs. Bible. “Hi. I’m Layla Fritz.” She reaches out her hand and grimaces when Ms. Bible shakes it. “It’s so nice to meet you. I apologize for not being here when you arrived. It’s been a long week of medical school and working at the hospital and I was just down at my cousin Stella’s new restaurant. Have you been there? The food is amazing.”
The woman blinks about ten thousand times at Layla. “I know your family.”
Layla lights up like Times Square. “Oh really? How wonderful.” Layla touches Mrs. Bible’s arm. “Though I have to say, I’m sadly not surprised considering how many of them work in the medical field.” Layla’s hand covers her chest. “So heartbreaking.” She shakes her head. “You do such important work and we’re so grateful you’re here checking in and making sure Katy is in the best hands possible.”
Layla walks over to me, leaning in and kissing me gently on the lips before she takes the seat beside me and runs her hands down Katy’s back.
“What happened, babe? Why the tears?” Layla whispers against Katy.
“The smoke alarm.”
“Oh.” She flashes me a grim look and then returns to Katy. “I bet that was scary. Glad it’s all done.” She kisses her forehead and stares at Katy with so much light and love in her eyes that it twists me up more.
My mind is spinning. Thrashing. My heart along with it.
