The screen door slammed with the sound of small feet running toward them. “Stop right there young lady. Shoes off. You and Samuel wash your hands before you come in here.”
The kids turned toward the washroom without argument.
Zoe stopped her muttering and chuckled. “Ohhh, the Mom voice. You do that really well.”
“It’s in the guide that comes from the hospital. Mom voice and Mom look are in the second chapter.”
“What’s in the first?”
“Mom worry and Mom smothering.”
Zoe leaned against the counter while the cookies finished baking. “It’s been hard, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah. You’re smart to wait. Not that I planned it.”
“The good things in life are never planned,” Zoe said. “I didn’t plan on being a chef. It just happened.”
“It didn’t just happen. You made it happen. You left this town before I did with half a scholarship and a beat-up pickup truck.”
Zoe waved her off. “Still didn’t plan it. Not all of it.”
“Would you do any of it differently?” Melanie asked.
Her friend stared at the wall. “Well . . . no. I guess not.”
That didn’t sound convincing.
“Are you happy?”
Zoe tore her gaze away, turned toward the stove. “Yeah . . . yeah, I am.”
That didn’t sound convincing either.
As the cookies emerged from the oven, Hope and Samuel fled into the kitchen. Their eager faces still dirty after poor attempts at cleaning them, their hands dripping with water.
While Melanie poured milk for the kids, the screen door slammed shut again. “Someone other than Miss Gina is cooking.”
Mel’s heart did a quick jump in her chest before Wyatt rounded the corner. The easy smile on his lips had her biting hers. He wore the blue jeans she was used to seeing on his narrow waist. He had on a pullover shirt and a tool belt loose over his hips.
“Aunt Zoe made cookies,” Hope announced, her lips smacking over the cinnamon snickerdoodles.
“Are they any good?” Wyatt asked with a wink.
Zoe scoffed and pretended offense.
When Wyatt reached for one, Melanie opened her mouth and her mother’s voice came out. “Wash your hands.”
Wyatt snapped his hand back and grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her cheeks heated. “Sorry. Habit.”
Wyatt sauntered out of the kitchen and he could hear the sound of running water from the downstairs bathroom.
Melanie turned away from the kids and found Zoe watching her. “What?”
“He’s cute,” she said under her breath.
“Stop.”
“Why?”
Footsteps stopped their conversation and Melanie pushed Zoe away.
“Mmm. Luke said you were a good cook,” Wyatt said.
“He did, did he?”
“Zoe can turn macaroni and cheese into a delicacy fit for kings,” Melanie praised her friend.
“I don’t know about that.”
“A direct quote from one of the judges of Warring Chefs.”
“A quote used once they found out I grew up in a double-wide. It was a joke.”
“It’s the truth.” Melanie turned back to Wyatt, his face full of another cookie. “She won her first Fourth of July chili cook-off when we were twelve. In high school, when we needed a new pole vault pit for the track team, Zoe cooked a three-course meal and sold tickets as a fundraiser. Once word got out about her culinary talents, people started driving in from forty miles away and paid forty bucks a plate.”
“That’s impressive,” Wyatt said. “You should stick around. We could use another pole vault pit.”
“We?” Melanie asked.
“I help coach at the high school,” he said.
“Really? Zoe, Jo, and I were all on the track team.”
Wyatt wiped cookie crumbs off his chin. Out of habit, Melanie handed him a napkin.
“I think I remember Jo mentioning that.”
“Yeah, Jo was a sprinter, Zoe here did the mile, and I was the vaulter.”
“Hence the pole vault pit,” Zoe added.
Hope and Samuel scrambled off the kitchen stools. “We’re going back outside.”
“Go on.”
“I keep trying to get our sheriff to coach. Lord knows she keeps bringing me kids.”
Zoe and Melanie started to laugh.
“The apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” Zoe said.
“What do you mean?”
“Sheriff Ward, her dad . . . he did that all the time. Someone got caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing . . . he gave them an option. Join track or handcuffs.”
Wyatt glanced between the two of them. “And what did you two get caught doing?”
Melanie and Zoe exchanged glances.
“It wasn’t us. We were there supporting our friend,” Zoe offered.
It took a few seconds for Wyatt to catch on. “Jo?”
Melanie snapped her lips together. “I’ll never tell.”
Zoe lifted her little finger in the air, and Mel took hold with hers. The not-so-secret handshake of sorts still held.
“It’s a daily education with you in town,” he said.
Zoe pushed away from the counter and opened the fridge. “You kids get out of here. I have stuff to do.”
“Stuff?” Melanie asked.
“Yeah . . . I need to remind Miss Gina how this is done.” Zoe waved them away. “When is she coming back?”
“Dinner. She suggested I invite you over.”
Zoe snorted. “I bet. Sneaky bitch.”