Page 37 of Recipe for Rivals

And then I had cookies to decorate.

Once the homework was finished, Ben was in his uniform with his shoes and water in a bag, Alice had packed exactly three toys—one Barbie and two Minions, one of which was mercilessly covered in Band-aids—Gigi arrived. It only took a few minutes to get the tornado of children and their belongings out the door. Gigi didn’t look the least overwhelmed. Was it her unflappable nature that lent itself to running a diner for so many years, or had the diner given her this unruffled calm?

It was no matter. Closing the door and faced with a mess left behind by the kids, I breathed out my relief. The house was quiet and they wouldn’t be back for hours. Time to decorate some cookies.

Bent over the counter,holding a large piping bag of dark gray royal icing, I squeezed shadow outlines on a few of the moon’s craters. I’d opted to avoid buying new cookie cutters and did the same planets, astronauts, and rocket ships we had last year. All of them were now outlined and flooded, and I’d moved onto the details I was able to do before the first layer of icing hardened.

The door swung open and Alice raced inside holding her pink monkey, her eyes wide. “Ben’s hurt.”

“What?” I dropped the bag of icing on the counter and hurried toward the door in time to jump out of the way, avoiding a collision with Dusty, who held my son in his arms. My stomach turned over.

Together, they filled the doorway. Dusty must have seen the panic covering my face, because he was quick to speak. “Twisted his ankle in a hole in the grass.” He shook his head. “This is why I prefer to practice at the school.”

Ben’s face was pinched, his brown eyes squinting.

“Where should I put him?” Dusty asked.

Since we didn’t have a sofa yet, or any other furniture really, I motioned to the bedroom he shared with Alice. “His mattress is in there.”

Gigi came through the door and closed it behind herself. “He’s dirty, Nova. Maybe put him on the kitchen chair—” She looked around and grimaced at the lack of kitchen chairs. “Maybe a bar stool?”

“Bring him to the bathroom,” I decided. “I can change his clothes in there.” I walked ahead and put the toilet seat down, picking up a towel from the floor and kicking aside Alice’s discarded pajamas. I didn’t love Dusty being in here and seeing the mess, but he followed me in and lowered Ben slowly to the toilet seat.

Looking at the bathroom through his eyes, though, all I could see was evidence of children and a tired mom. Blue toothpaste dotted the sink bowl and water spots covered the mirror. Toys littered the tub floor and the bathmat was bunched up against the wall.

It took everything in me not to straighten the room more.

Dusty looked from Ben to me, then jerked his head to the side a little like he wanted to speak to me in the hall.

I crouched in front of my son first. “I’ll grab PJs and a bag of ice. Just sit tight for a minute.”

“Okay.” His blond hair was darkened with sweat and sticking out on top. His eyes were red and his cheeks were streaked with dried tears. “Mom, it hurts.”

I pulled his shoulders in for a squeeze and felt his arms tighten around me. “I’ll be quick,” I said, kissing the top of his head.

Dusty was waiting right outside the door. “I don’t think it’s a bad sprain. Probably just rolled it.”

“Are you a paramedic too?” I asked, hoping he had medical training.

He gave me a half smile. “No, just a basic EMT. Billy’s dad is a doctor, and I asked him to take a look before we left practice. He told me to let you know you don’t need to bring Ben in for an X-Ray unless he can’t walk on it in the morning.”

My shoulders deflated, carrying a heavy breath. That was money I didn’t want to spend and an injury I didn’t want Ben to suffer. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He hesitated, then a glint flashed in his eyes. It felt like the moment he chose to forge ahead. “Gigi was going to carry him home, but I thought I might as well show Ben exactly what firemen are good for.”

My eyebrows lifted of their own accord. “You’re never going to change his mind about that, you know.”

His head fell a little to the side, acurious line forming above his eyebrows. “Why not?”

I started toward the bedroom to get Ben’s pajamas and tossed over my shoulder, “Because Ben’s hero is a cop.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

I smirked, walking away. “My dad.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

DUSTY