Learning to Fly

Chapter - 8

                "So..." Carly was ransacking cupboards in the plush kitchen of the Carter chalet, Millie was sat cross legged on the work surface watching her. "Where would the flour be?"

Millie giggled and pointed to a cupboard across from her.

                "Here?" Carly chuckled, "really?"

Opening the nominated cupboard door, Millie laughed as Carly let out a whoop of satisfaction, "Now why would the flour be above the fridge?"

Millie shrugged, not really knowing why it was there, but loving the fact that she knew more than Carly.

                "So it's definitely cookies we're making?"

Millie nodded, "I love cookies!"

This was the fourth session that Carly had spent with the little girl. So far there had been no real developments, thought Carly was unable to believe that she'd not noticed the air of sadness that seemed to follow Millie everywhere.

Each day she spoke to the therapist back in New York, and each time all he could really say was not to force the topic, and if she did mention it, he'd given her various techniques to help draw more information from her. She was then meant to report it all back to him. The theory was, that sharing anything about the last six months, and in specific the days surrounding her mother's death was a positive thing.

So here was Carly trying to think of things that would either make Millie happy, or possibly be familiar, reminding her of times with her mother. Paul had provided a long list of things that mother and daughter had previously enjoyed, and each day Carly would make suggestions of what to do, from said list.

Yesterday had been jigsaw puzzle day, the time before she'd given Millie carte blanche with her makeup kit - or rather Camilla's as she had so little and her own face. It meant that when Paul had come home that day she'd looked like an Aunt Sally doll. But Carly had long since resigned herself to the fact that there would never be anything between them. The fact that he was paying her to be with his daughter, made an employee out of her, and  had put the final nail in that coffin.

Still being made up like a pantomime dame didn't make her feel very attractive!

Baking was apparently a real mother and daughter thing, and fortunately, Paul had ensured Carly that all the ingredients she would require were in the kitchen, so cookies were the name of the game.

                "You don't do it like that!"

Carly's wandering mind was penetrated by the four year old's voice, and she zoomed back to the here and now.

                "What this isn't how you mix cookie dough?" Carly offered her the spoon, "do you want to lead the way?"

Millie nodded and took the spoon, working the dough vigorously, but ineffectively.

                "You're a real chef!" Carly laughed.

Millie smiled at her, "my Mom taught me!"

Carly gulped, here it was. 'The In', the next few seconds were vital, or so she'd been coached.

                "Ah! And mothers know best!"

Millie nodded as she stirred. "We need cutters!"

Moment gone! Carly sighed as she loaded the cookies into the oven. Millie was still sat cross legged on the counter, she'd barely moved during the whole procedure, and it was only as Carly started to clean up that she spotted tears on the little girl's face.