“Here’s the phone, Daddy!” J.J. careens into the room, tiny round face frozen in fear, eyes wide. “What’s wrong?”
He is galvanized, the old warhorse, the man who made a deal with a demon, but then played the beast at its own game. Kept his soul, saved his family, and started a new one—but never forgot either. Never stopped loving any of them.
“Nothing is wrong, J.J. Nothing is wrong here. Do you know that? In this town, you are everyone’s favorite little boy?” He picks them both up, his little granddaughter and his big grandson, and squeezes them close, feeling a phantom flutter in his chest, heart still racing in his memories as he made sure that the train carrying his family went somewhere safe, somewhere far, far away from the wicked.
“I’m not everyone’s favorite little boy! Max’s mommy would say Max is her favorite little boy.”
“Ah, yes. Maybe. But you are my favorite little boy—but it is a tie, of course. You must understand that it is a tie.”
“When you both win?”
“And no one has to lose. Like the cookies.” Minegold puts the baby back into her father’s arms and lets the boy sit on the counter, the wide, beautiful counter in a spacious home that has been a safe haven to many. He bends, swoops, whirls, oven mitt on, cookies out, steaming and smelling of citrus, red and golden orange jam bubbling inside the centers.
“Like the cookies.” He slides one strawberry and one apricot onto a small white china plate. “They can both be your favorites. And you can have them both.”
Like his families. He can have them both. One past, one present. More in the future.
But he will never have to say goodbye again, not like that—not if he can help it.
He looks at his son blowing on the hot cookies, and the baby sleeping in his arms, and the little boy daring to poke the golden edges of the sweet triangles on his plate...
They can have their innocence.
Because if the wicked come near us, we will drive them out. We will make them pay.
“Are you going to have a cookie, Grandpa?” J.J. holds out one cookie, and to a three-year-old who has waited patiently from start to finish, there is no greater sacrifice than sharing a warm cookie.
“I would love one, sweetheart.” Mr. Minegold takes the cookie and kisses the mop of brown-black curls.
They taste like joy after all.
Ivy’s Zeppole
Ingredients:
? 1 1/4 cups warm whole milk, about 110°
? 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
? ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
? Pinch of ground nutmeg
? 1 teaspoon active yeast
? 2 ¼ cups AP flour
? ½ teaspoon kosher salt
? 2 large eggs, beaten
? neutral oil for frying (vegetable or canola are my preferences)
?powdered sugar
Method:
? In a medium-sized bowl, whisk together the warm milk, 1 tablespoon of sugar, and yeast until combined. Set it aside for 5 to 7 minutes or until a fluffy, bubbly mass has formed on the top. This is the yeast “blooming.”
