Page 26 of Lakeside Little
On the car ride back to the cabin, I clung to Daddy’s gift. I hadn’t expected it. I’d gone with every expectation of grabbing something for myself. His insistence and suggestion of buying it was a surprise.
“You’re not even going to know or taste the goat cheese, I promise,” he said. He’d been talking a lot about the cheese on the drive back. “And I know you’ll have just a little taste because of how good you are, and it’s something I’d like you to do. You know, as a good boy.”
Sometimes, it felt like I was pressured into it because my code word wasgood boy, forcing me into things, and it was always for a good cause, like trying a new food, or creating good habits, like making the bed or washing my face, etc.
“And I’ll be making the pizza dough from scratch,” he said.
“You can do that?”
“It’s definitely something I want to try.”
I stared at him, seeing the excitement on his face. “Can I try as well?”
“I’d love it if you would,” he said. “I bought all the stuff for it already, figured I’d practice while I had the time, and there’s nothing you can’t learn how to do from an online article with instructions.”
I hummed, immediately trying to combat him on that. “What about heart surgery?”
He scoffed. “I’ve seen enoughGrey’s Anatomy; I could absolutely channel my Cristina Yang into doing some heart surgery. You know and say stuff likestatandpush ten of epi, or whatever they say.”
“Oh my god, I loveGrey’s!” I nearly screamed. “How come we haven’t spoken about this before?” I patted on his arm with excitement, trying not to distract him while we were in the car. “Ok, so who is your favorite?”
“Addison,” he said without pause. “Obviously, I’ve watchedPrivate Practicetoo. And if you haven’t, you’re missing out.”
Rolling my eyes, he didn’t know who he was talking to. I was a superfan. “Of course, I have. I named one of the red head dolls Addison after her, unfortunately, she melted on one side because she was on the windowsill and—well, yeah, she did not recover. RIP.”
“RIP, I’m sorry that happened,” he said, which had my soul singing. It was a kind thing to say. He really cared.
Once we were back at the cabins, I took a nap. It was essential I napped after walking around all afternoon and being attacked by all those animals, even if it wasn’t technically considered an attack, I did not like the way some of those goats looked at me. Who even knew their eyes looked like that? Not me!
I woke to Daddy’s soft voice as he nudged me in bed. “You’ve been out for two hours,” he whispered. “I’ve made the dough and let it rest, so we’re ready to do the fun part.”
“Huh?” I grumbled, craning my neck out as he smelled divine. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into my sleepy haven. “I have the fun part right here.”
He smothered my face in kisses. “The real fun is rolling the dough out. At least, that’s what looks the most fun online.”
A large yawn nearly had my jaw unhinge itself. “Yeah, sure. Give me one second.”
I didn’t get my one second. I was forced out of bed like I’d been served an eviction notice, but it was all for the best because I walked right out into the smell of tomato sauce on the hob. I felt like I was in an Italian restaurant. My belly grumbled. As always.
“You did all this while I was napping?” I asked, looking at all the ingredients being used and the stations he’d set up on the kitchen countertops.
“I wanted you involved,” he said. “And I was kind of excited to see if I could actually do this whole dough thing. So, fingers crossed it’s fine.”
My stomach grumbled again, this time even Daddy noticed. “What toppings do we have?”
“Sauce, of course, you can taste that now if you want,” he said. “And then there’s the cheese, which you have to try, or maybe you don’t have to, but it’s good. I do have a tin of pitted black olives, and we can always cook some fish to go on it.” My entire face winced as if I’d just tasted something sour. “I think people do that.”
“People who deserve long prison sentences.”
“What do you usually have?”
“Pepperoni, sometimes honey,” I said, my mouth watering. “It’s actually so good. Near my apartment this pizza places sells hot honey and chicken pizza.” I wiped my mouth, fearing for saliva falling out of the corners.
“We do have honey,” he said. “We also have—” he paused, flicking his tongue between his teeth. “Pineapple. Now, don’t hate on this. It’s good.”
“Oh no,” I whispered.
“What?” he asked. “Are you allergic or something?”
