Chapter 14
The recipe was literally Greek to her. Emma looked at it blankly and then at the little girl bouncing on the stool next to her.
“I don’t suppose you know what this says?”
“Yep,” Abigail bounced excitedly. “It says cookies!” The little girl’s English was excellent thanks to her father’s diligent instruction. Unfortunately, she didn’t know how to read yet- in either language.
Emma gave her a smile. In the last couple of days, the household had gradually settled into something like a truce. Abigail was fiercely loyal to Gretchen but had agreed to stay with Emma for the day after a promise of a swim in the pool and cookies. Nikos had driven Gretchen to town to shop and see to her mother. This was Emma’s opportunity to make some headway with the child.
“I think we might need some help from Google,” Emma said and headed toward the library.
“Who’s Google? Gretchen knows how to read. You’re stupid,” Abigail informed her with typical 4-year-old aplomb.
You’re lucky you’re cute, Emma thought as she powered up the laptop. For half a second, she thought of calling her grandmother. Then, she remembered and felt the pang of loss all over again. Her family was alive and well in Indiana. I’m the one who’s dead, Emma thought sadly before she refocused on the task at hand.
Google was indeed helpful in locating a few million cookie recipes. Abigail insisted on peanut butter since it was her father’s favorite food. Armed with a recipe, Emma herded Abigail back to the kitchen. Together, they measured and mixed even though Abigail ate more than she put in the bowl. Ultimately, they sat at the table with a plate of warm cookies and ice cold glasses of milk.
They were toasting their success when Gretchen and Nikos walked in. Gretchen uttered a shocked cry of surprise before launching into a steady stream of angry Greek. Nikos stood looking from the kitchen to the small breakfast nook where they sat. Emma followed his gaze and was surprised to see how much of a mess they had made. She had been so intent on the project and keeping track of Abigail that she hadn’t noticed.
Flour coated every surface like dust in an abandoned house. There were globs of peanut butter on the counter, and the sink was piled with dishes. Emma and Abigail were no better. Abigail had peanut butter in her pigtails, and Emma’s clothes were streaked with flour.
Abigail squealed when she saw her father and ran to give him a cookie, all the while chattering in Greek at the top of her lungs.
“Peanut Butter is your favorite- not mine,” Nikos said with a smile as he scooped her up and allowed her to feed him the cookie. “Delicious all the same,” he added with a kiss on her cheek as he put her down.
“All of this for cookies,” Gretchen asked in amazement as she looked in disbelief around her.
“I’ll clean it up,” Emma rushed to assure her. “I guess we need to practice our cooking skills, Aba,” she said using her nickname that she had given the child.
The little girl gave Emma a smile and surprised her with a quick hug around her leg before she exited the room at warp speed.
Gretchen looked torn between following Abigail and the disaster in the kitchen. “I’ve got this,” Emma said, starting to clear the dishes. Gretchen’s look told her that she very much doubted that Emma had anything, but decided not to make an issue out of it. Silently, she turned and left in pursuit of Abigail.
Nikos saw Emma’s shoulders slump. He went to her and pulled her to him. It had been a tense couple of days with Gretchen and Emma trying to avoid each other. Gretchen left a list of chores for Emma every day that Nikos translated. Emma did them, and then Gretchen redid them, which drove Emma mad. Nikos had finally assigned duties to each of them and said they each reported to him. He was frustrated with the situation but was trying to be patient. Every night, he slipped into her room. For those hours, the world was perfect.
“The cookies are really good,” Nikos offered as she stood there leaning into him. He slid his hand up and down her back in comfort.
“She hates me,” Emma said into his chest.
“No. She just hasn’t given in yet. Greek women are like that,” he stepped back and tipped her chin up to see her face. “Abigail seems to have decided you’re ok. A hug is a big thing for her.”
“Well, it was worth it then. I’ll wear the old dragon down eventually,” Emma replied and realized a split second later the implications of what she had just said. A part of her was beginning to think about a future here.
If Nikos noticed, he said nothing. He only asked, “Do you want help cleaning up,” as he picked up a dish rag.