Samantha Teller || A Tig Trager Love Story

27 Baking

The following afternoon, Ava and I were getting ready to make some cookies. Tig was supposed to be home in a few minutes so we were getting everything together and listening to some French music.

"Hello my loves," Tig said as he walked into the room.

"Daddy, we're making cookies," Ava said. I looked at Tig as he stared back at me shocked. We hadn't talked about this, but I knew it was inevitable. Her father hadn't been great, or even good, so I knew that eventually she'd see Tig as her dad.

"Hell yeah we are," he said.

"Ava, ne répète pas après lui(don't repeat after him)," I said. She just nodded as Tig picked her up and sat her on the counter.

"Excuse me, do I not get to understand anything in my own home?" He asked, causing Ava to giggle. She was nearing four years old and I couldn't believe it had been that long since I had her. It felt like just yesterday I held her for the first time.

"Devrions-nous le laisser (should we let him)?" I asked as Ava and I both laughed at him.

"Oui Mama(yes)," she said.

"Fine," I said with a fake groan of annoyance. "I told her not to repeat after you. Someone's gotta make sure our princess doesn't act like you."

"I take offense to that," he said.

"As you should," I said with a giggle as I stepped away from him quickly causing him to follow me and wrap his arms around my waist.

"I love you," he said, kissing my cheek.

"I love you too," I said, smiling as I stepped out of his hug and headed to where Ava was eating the chocolate chips for the cookies.

"Good thing I bought a second bag munchkin," I said.

"Share with me before she takes them away," Tig said, sneaking his hand into the bag.

"Manners Daddy," she said.

"Please," he said dramatically.

"Good job Ava," I said, kissing her head.

"She is definitely your daughter," Tig said, his hand resting on my hip.

I grabbed some of the ingredients as I looked at my mother's recipe. I used to make these all the time, but Ava's father hadn't been fond of American food so I only made them a couple times when he was away. Ava loved chocolate chip cookies though.

"What are we listening too?" Tig asked.

"Papaoutai," Ava said.

"It was a big hit in France a couple years back," I said.

"It's good," he said. "I don't know what they're saying, but it's good."

"Ava, what does it mean?" I asked, looking at her as her hand froze in the chocolate chips again.

"Where are you dad," she said.

"Yes," I said, taking the bag from her.

"But Mama," she said.

"Keep eating chocolate chips and you're not getting any cookies," I said.

She pouted a little bit the song changed to one from Wicked and she wiggled her way off the counter to dance.

"She's something else," Tig said, watching her as he took a seat on the counter.

"That she is," I said.

I finally had everything in the bowl and I looked over my shoulder at my daughter.

"Want to mix?"

"Yes please," she said. I grabbed a step stool and helped her up onto it so she could mix the cookies. Tig watched as I helped Ava finish the cookie dough.

Tig stuck his finger in and ate a glob of the raw dough.

"Babe," I said.

"'S good," he said. I rolled my eyes and laughed at him as I grabbed a small ice cream scoop and let Ava scoop the dough out.

"Can we take some cookies to Grandma and my uncles?" Ava asked. I looked up at Tig through my lashes.

"I'll call grandma," I said. Tig shook his head as he grabbed his phone and walked out.

"You can visit the garage but you can't work," he said softly as Ava finished up.

"Sure," I said. "We can take them tomorrow."

I placed the cookies in the oven as Ava washed up and dragged Tig to play with her as I made dinner.