Page 40 of Reclaimed Dreams
The first piping hot cookies came out of the press, and she transferred them to the baking tray to cool and get a dusting of powdered sugar snow. Stir the cioppino fish stew, add another round of cookies to the press, make the rice, throw fish sticks in the oven for the kids, remove the next cookies, shift cooled ones to a plate on the table, repeat.
Jo was a machine, churning out holiday magic, until a crash from the living room had her sprinting from her post.
As she swung through the antique wooden door she and Dom had refinished together, the sight of the toppled tree and two crying children greeted her.
“It wasn’t my fault!” Gabe protested immediately upon seeing her face.
Fi just continued wailing, and Jo bundled them both into her arms.
“Are you hurt? Are you okay?” After assuring herself that the kids were fine, she asked, “What on earth happened?”
“We was playing reindeers,” Fi murmured through her tears.
“Okay, you were playing reindeer, and…” Jo turned to Gabe, hoping for more details.
“Fi was chasing me, and the cord grabbed my leg and I fell.”
Jo carefully kept her face neutral as her son tried to blame this accident on everything but himself. “Gabriel, I’m not mad, but try that explanation again. I…”
Eyes on the carpet, hands clutched together in front of his little belly, Gabe hauled in a deep breath and began again. “We were playing, and I tripped on the cord, and it pulled the tree down, and I’m sorry, Mama.”
“That’s better. Well, there’s only one thing to do.”
Gabe nodded, but the tears began to fall. “I guess we gotta tell Santa not to bring any presents, cause I was a bad boy.”
“No, that’s not the one thing.” Jo pulled him in closer. “You did the right thing by owning up to what you did and apologizing. The only thing left to do is clean up this mess!”
Jo stood and righted the tree, tightening the base and moving it closer to the wall.
“No more running behind the tree, okay?”
Fi nodded and wiped the snot from her face with the back of her hand.
Jo grabbed a tissue and wiped her down again. “Can I put you two in charge of redecorating?”
Her babies nodded vigorously. As she headed back to the kitchen, she heard Fi directing Gabe.
“No, dat one goes here, at da top!”
With a smile, Jo pushed through the door and froze.
The kitchen was quiet. Too quiet. And the floor was empty. Jo raced to the stove. Nothing burning. She ran to the pantry, one of Enzo’s other favorite spots. Empty. It wasn’t until she heard his little baby giggle that she turned around and looked higher.
There he was, sitting on the kitchen table, covered head to toe in powdered sugar, happily munching on the pizzelles. Apparently, chairs made excellent ladders. She hadn’t realized he was strong enough to climb. Parenting had just leveled up on her, again.
Lifting him from his feast set off wails until she put a half-eaten cookie back in his hand. He’d put quite a dent in the pile she’d made. Time to double that recipe again.
That was how Dom found her: smelling of fresh pine sap, covered in glitter, and holding a sugar-sweet baby on her hip as she made the green beans.
“Hmmm, looks like someone got into my cookies.”
“That would be this little Houdini over here.” Jo grinned and handed him Enzo, before turning back to the stove.
“Looks like he got a little on your face.” Dom set their son on the ground and took Jo’s face in his hands, gently brushing his fingertips over her cheekbones. “So sweet,” he murmured as he raised a hand over their heads, holding up a fake green sprig of holiday fun.
Dom took her lips and took her under. The soup boiled over. The cookies burned. And Jo kissed Dom under the mistletoe. When Jo finally came up for air, Dom put his arm around her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Merry Christmas, babe.”
Enzo clapped and giggled. From his perch on the table. Double-fisting the pizzelles.
