Page 325 of The Maxwell Brothers
"Oh, good. I was afraid I sort of ambushed her.”
"She makes an amazing apple tart."
"Hmm, that would have been a great idea. I don't have apples, but we’ll bake plenty of other things today."
"I'm glad I came here," Paisley said. "It was my uncle Declan's idea. He said something about you being able to make everyone light up."
"He said that about me, huh?"
I was giddy with happiness, grateful I had such an impact on him. I filled two baskets with supplies, putting the lighter items in Paisley’s, and we returned to the front.
I had butter and eggs in the fridge, and my measuring cups were already out on the counter. Gran was nodding appreciatively at the scale.
“Can I measure the ingredients?” she asked.
“Sure. Let me take out the flour and the cocoa. We’re making brownies, chocolate chip cookies, cupcakes, and a coffee cake.”
She lit up. “Sounds like a plan, girl. Do you have any apples? I make a mean apple tart.”
“Paisley already told me about your tart, but unfortunately I don’t.”
“Doesn’t matter. We have enough to do. Where do we start?”
She already seemed to be happier. Baking was magic like that. Even when your world spun around, something about baking centered you. Whether it was because you were following the steps or just the physical act itself, in the end, you had a perfect product. I wished more people took it up as a hobby.
I explained the order of the steps and how much we needed of each ingredient, then started the oven so it was ready when we were.
I chuckled when I noticed that Gran measured everything twice.
"What?" she asked.
“Declan wanted me to double-measure everything too when we baked brownies.”
She blinked several times, looking at Paisley and then back at me.
"My grandson baked brownies?"
"Um… yes," I said, feeling like I was under a magnifying glass. "He had a hard day, and I thought it would help relax him. I think it did."
"How did they turn out?" Paisley asked.
I blushed at the memory.Oh goodness.I couldn't tell them that we never managed to finish them.
"He did well," was all I said.
"You're good for my grandson," Gran murmured.
"Thanks," I said. "So, did he learn his measuring practice from you?"
"Possibly," Gran said. "He was always conscientious, even as a kid. Always making sure everything was perfect, just the way he wanted. He’s a perfectionist. And I thought because he was the oldest, he also tried to control the others, who seemed intent on giving everyone white hair. The group needed someone to be levelheaded and in charge, and he took that role without even noticing.” She paused with such love in her eyes that it made me happy too. “Declan tells me that you miss your family.”
"I do," I said, pressing a hand to my chest. I felt an ache there just talking about them. "They’re great, and I miss them terribly, but I knew I had to move to the city for my bakery. Our small town already has two, and that’s more than enough. Its population is just shy of 1500. So here I am."
"You're a determined woman. I like that about you.”
“You kick ass," Paisley said.
Gran narrowed her eyes at her granddaughter. "Young lady, do I have to start a swear jar for you already? You areten. Your uncles all started when they were twelve."
