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C H A P T E R T H R E E
"Larkie is the sauce supposed to be bubbling?"
She turns around from the step stool she's standing on and gives me a weary look.
I put down the grater I was using to shred parmesan and walk over to her. "When the sauce starts to bubble," I say and extend my arm to lower the heat. "It means the heat's too high." I smile at her as the bubbles slow down. "There."
"Thanks," she grins up at me. "Here taste it," she removes the spatula she was using to stir and holds it up. I open my mouth and the creamy delight of alfredo warms it. Her face is hopeful, "Good?"
"Delicious," I smack a kiss on her cheek and she giggles trying to push me away. I pull away grinning.
"And you bread boy?" I raise a brow at Ethan who was busy rolling dough. "Everything good?"
He looks up at me with floured cheeks. "Great! I finished rolling them. Can I brush on the butter now? "
"Sure" I nod. "Need any help?"
He shakes his head and hops off his own stool to the fridge. I walk over to the stove and pull off the pasta cooker before draining the water off in the sink.
"Incoming," I tell Adeline and she moves away to give me some room to pour the pasta into the saucepan. I put the heat on low. "Mix it around for a minute and then cover it so it doesn't go cold while the breadsticks finish."
I look to Ethan. "You done?" He nods. "Alright let's put them in the oven." He hops off the stool and I grab the baking pan and gently put it in the oven. Making sure the timers set for twelve minutes, I turn around and clap my hands.
"Now we gotta clean up the kitchen."
Adeline grumbles. "I don't like this part."
"Me neither," I agree. "You go set the table k?"
She goes to grab the plates with a huff while Ethan wipes the flour-covered table and I gather all the dirty utensils and pans.
A creak from the front door indicates Sam's arrival and his loud steps make their way into the kitchen.
"How was practice?" I ask as he steps inside. I had made it my goal to set each of the kids into an extracurricular. They all got to choose what they wanted and then we would have a "first trial" to see if they liked it. If they did, they would continue in it. For Adeline it was ballet. Ethan's was soccer. And Sam's was lacrosse.
"It was good," he says. "We've got an upcoming competition in about two weeks. It's with the Mccarthy school, the rich twats."
"Sam" I warn.
He huffs. "The nice and oh so kind rich kids."
I roll my eyes at his sarcasm and he continues. "We win, we get into the semifinals. We win semifinals and we get into the finals. We win the finals and then we get to go home with a hefty-looking trophy."
