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“And Skye slapped her,” Mrs. Evans growls.
“I would have slapped her, too,” the other woman mumbles under her breath.
The bell rings and the children come rushing outside. I wave to Skye who’s skipping outside holding hands with another little girl.
Mrs. Evans marches to them and rips the two apart before dragging her daughter away. What the hell?
“It’s about timeMrs.Evans got her comeuppance,” the other woman mumbles before grinning at me. “I’m Cherry by the way.”
“Love Hill,” I say as we shake hands.
“Welcome to the jungle,” she says before sauntering off to claim her child.
Huh. Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can be a better woman.
Skye runs over to me. “Nanny Love!”
“Skye Bragg. How was your school day?”
“It was fun!” she begins and doesn’t stop chattering away until we arrive at Damon’s house.
“How do you feel about decorating Christmas cookies?” I ask as I help her out of her snow gear.
We won’t be baking the cookies. Baking and I are still not besties. I bought some cookies from Moon instead. Besides, decorating is the best part.
“How do we decorate?”
“I have different colored frosting and sprinkles.” Frosting I also bought from Moon. Being a better person doesn’t suddenly make me Holly the Homemaker.
“Cookies!”
I herd Skye into the kitchen where I’ve laid out the supplies. She jumps onto her step and immediately sticks her finger into the red frosting. I shackle her hand before she can suck the frosting off her finger.
“If you want to help decorate, you can’t eat the frosting,” I berate as I wash her hand.
“But I wants to try.”
“You want to try,” I correct.
“Yes!”
I give up on correcting her poor grammar. She’s too excited to listen to me now anyway.
“Let me show you how to spread the frosting on a cookie.” I place some red frosting on my knife and spread it across a cookie. “See? Easy peasy.” Thank goodness. Otherwise, I couldn’t do it.
“My turn.”
I hand her the knife. She digs it into the bowl of red frosting and adds at least half of the bowl to the knife.
“You don’t want to put too much frosting on one cookie.”
“Frosting is yummy,” she proclaims before throwing the glob onto a cookie.
“But now you can’t put sprinkles on it because there’s too much frosting.”
“Why not?”
I indicate the mountain of frosting on the cookie. “They’ll fall off.”
