Page 25 of Recipe for Rivals
I blinked. “I live in Texas now.”
“I know. You can ship them, can’t you? How much would you charge for five dozen?”
My mind spun. I couldn’t ship her sixty cookies. I hadn’t even made cookies since that science fair, so I was probably rusty. “They’ll end up a box of crumbs.”
Trish’s laugh grated against me. “I researched it, Nova. I’ll send you the article on how to pack them. But we’ll pay you before they arrive anyway, so you don’t need to worry about losing all that money if it doesn’t work. Is three hundred enough?”
Dollars? I almost choked.
“That’s for the cookies, shipping costs and postage fees,” she said.
I could use three hundred dollars, easily. After paying the fees for this flag football endeavor, my bank account was dangerously low. But when would I have the time? After the kids were asleep?
“Nova?”
“Sorry, I was trying to figure out if I could fit it in. When do you need them by?”
“Next Friday. We can overnight them so they stay fresh. Let me know what the postage comes to, and I’ll reimburse you if it’s extra.”
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Fantastic!” Trish made a kissy noise. “Lovely. Thanks, Nova. We’ll chat later.”
We hung up the phone right as my car lit up from Ben opening the door. “Who was that?” he asked.
“Trish. She wants cookies for the science fair. I’m going to make some and mail them to her.”
“Rockets and astronauts like you did last year?” he asked, sounding excited.
“Maybe some beakers or DNA, too. What do you think?”
“I liked the rockets.”
Of course he did. “Hop in the back,” I said to Alice, who obeyed with a world-weary sigh.
“Everyone’s going to Gigi’s for milkshakes,” Ben said quietly, buckling his seatbelt.
My hand hovered over the gear selector. “They do this every practice?”
“No, just on Fridays.”
Mentally, I calculated how much money I’d already spent registering for the team and buying the necessary shoes, socks, and athletic shorts. Bring in milkshakes once a week, and whatever else they were going to throw at us, and I didn’t know if my bank account would survive the rest of the season.
“I don’t know, babe.”
“We don’t have to get ice cream,” he said hurriedly. “Or we can all share one.”
That sounded worse. The fact that he knew it was probably money keeping us away made my stomach hurt.
A knock on my window made me jump, screeching in surprise. When I rolled down the window to Dusty’s laughing face, I tossed him a wry smile.
“We’re all heading to Gigi’s for milkshakes,” he said, his voice rich and slow. “She does kid sizes for a dollar on weekends, but I’m guessing you already knew that.”
I didn’t, and it made a difference. I could manage two dollars. “She doesn’t have me work evenings, so I wasn’t aware. Thanks.”
He waited a second before his attention shifted to Brody walking a bike past my car. “Toss that in my truck,” he told Brody. “I’ll drive you to Gigi’s.”
“That’s okay.”