Page 7 of Season's Schemings
“That’s an ominous response if I ever heard one,Maddie. Is that short for Madison? I want to get it right for the police report.”
“Madelyn. And no police report necessary.” She crinkles her nose. “Unless an epidemic of e-coli spreads through the arena and bodies start dropping like flies. Then I’m most likely to blame. Albeit indirectly.”
My eyebrows shoot up when I see that she’s totally, 100% serious.
I’m still confused as all hell, but I have gleaned one thing for certain: I know her from somewhere,but this is no Puck Bunny, nor a former flame. This girl is… funny. In the weirdest good way possible.
I open my mouth, but then quickly shake my head. “I’m not even going to ask.” Now that I’m (mostly) certain that the girl’s sane, and might actually be a staff member here—and not just an apron thief on top of being a restroom lurker—I hold up my hands. “But I do need to apologize.”
“What for?”
“For running away earlier like a coward.”
She snorts. “I don’t blame you. I’d run too if I was minding my own business, trying to enter a bathroom for a pee, and came across a crazy lady crying at the sinks.”
“Still. I should’ve asked if you were okay.”
She finishes drying her hands and hangs the towel on a hook. “Oh. Well, um… thanks.”
“Are you?”
“Am I what?” She looks at me blankly.
“Okay?”
She seems to consider this for a long moment. “Yes, actually. Yes, I am.”
“Good. Well, I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. Have you been working here a while?” I examine her face, wondering if we’ve been passing each other in hallways for months and I’ve simply made a huge deal in my head about literally nothing.
“First day. I’m Stef’s new assistant. I do food prep, etc. Which I know doesn’t sound ideal given the aforementioned potential e-coli outbreak.”
“It does not.” I chuckle. “But given how many times I’ve walked in on you washing your hands today, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and say congrats on the new job. Despite the maybe mass murders.”
“And don’t forget the crying in the men’s restroom.”
“Quite the eventful first day.” I smile at her.
I could swear her cheeks tinge the slightest bit pink, and she turns away quickly. “Anyway. Can I get you anything?” Maddie-Madelyn frowns suddenly, her green eyes widening. “Assuming I can find it in this massive kitchen… I’m afraid some of Stef’s kitchen orientation is already slipping my mind.”
I give a little snort. “Kitchen orientation, huh?”
“Yup.” Her expression is entirely sincere. “It’s all very official, kitcheny business.”
“Sounds like it. But I am actually on the hunt for a shake or a smoothie… Are there any in the fridge?” She pauses for a moment, looking a little deer-in-the-headlights, and I quickly add, “If not, don’t worry about making anything new, I was hoping to grab something quick on my way to the media room.”
“Hmm, yeah, I think we’re fresh out.” She taps a finger to her chin, and then her expression brightens. “But Ididwhip up some greek yogurt and berry parfaits on Stef’s request, in case anyone wanted dessert later. I can grab you one and sprinkle some nuts and seeds over the top for fat and protein.”
The light in her eyes is all it takes for the penny to finally drop.
“I know where I know you from!” I exclaim. “You’re on that Christmas cookie show!”
My grandma is an absolute fiend for those shows—the ones where people compete in outlandish baking challenges. The holiday themed ones are her favorites, and I used to watch them with her back home, propped up at her butcher block countertop after school. I’d be doing my homework as she cooked dinner, the ancient TV in the corner filling the room with pleasant, sugar-sweet background noise.
Years later and thousands of miles away, I still watch those shows. Usually reruns late at night as I’m drifting off to sleep. Not because they’re boring, but because they’re soothing. Familiar.
They remind me of the people I love that I haven’t seen in way too long.
I look at Maddie triumphantly, glad to have finally figured out my mental puzzle, but I’m surprised to find that the light in her eyes has extinguished. Like someone dumped an entire bucket of water over a single flame.