Page 42 of Christmas Treasures

“I couldn’t agree more,” Charlie said.

The Slice was nearlyempty when they arrived. Nina was there, cleaning up tables from what must have been a lunch rush.

“Who have we here?” Nina asked, smiling at Bianca.

“This is Bianca,” Max said. “She’s come to live with me.”

“I see.” Nina nodded, cool as could be. “Welcome to Sugarville Grove, little one.”

After introductions, Nina scurried off to take a call in the office, leaving the three of them to explore.

Charlie led them through to the open kitchen area. The stainless steel counters gleamed, wiped clean but still bearing traces of the lunch rush. Flour dusted the edges of the prep table, and several tubs of dough rested under damp towels.

“This is where I roll the dough,” Charlie said in Italian. She lifted the towel from one to reveal the pillowy, pale mass beneath. Glancing over at Max, she caught him studying her, head tilted to the side. “What?” She switched from Italian to English to speak with Max.

“You look beautiful, that’s all.”

Charlie flushed and looked away, continuing in Italian. “And over there is the oven.” She grabbed a long-handled metal tool and approached the brick oven, skillfully raking the orange embers. Charlie added a few small logs from a stack nearby, and within moments, sparks jumped and new flames began to lick at the wood. “It needs to be hot enough to cook our pizza.”

Bianca clapped her hands as the fire flamed.

“Want to make a pizza together?” Charlie asked in Italian.

“Yes, yes,” Bianca said in English. She was doing so well trying out English words. Charlie had no doubt the little one would be fluent before long. Children learned new skills so much more easily than adults.

“Let me get you an apron.” Charlie grabbed one from a hook and helped Bianca put it on, tying it at the back. It was much too big for her, but it would keep her clean. She then led the child over to the sink, holding her up so she could wash her hands. Charlie set her down and scrubbed her own. “We’re going to make something special—the Sugarville Supreme. It was my father’s recipe.”

Bianca asked something in Italian, and Charlie answered back.

“She asked if my papa made pizza,” Charlie told Max over her shoulder as she moved to retrieve a ball of dough. “I told her yes—he was Italian, just like she is. And he taught me everything.”

“And now we get to enjoy his recipe,” Max said, rubbing his hands together. “Lucky us.”

“He would love knowing I’m carrying on his tradition. I hope he can see us.” Charlie placed the dough on the floured counter and guided Bianca’s small hands. “Like this, gentle but firm. We stretch it, we don’t toss it—that’s just for movies.”

“Hollywood lied to me?” Max gasped in mock horror, eliciting a giggle from Bianca.

“Hollywood. Is movies,” Bianca said in her thick accent.

“That’s right,” Max said.

Together they worked the dough into a circle, Charlie’s hands occasionally covering Bianca’s to guide her movements. The girl’s face was intent with concentration, the tip of her tongue peeking out between her lips.

“Now we add the sauce,” Charlie said, sliding a bowl of fragrant red sauce closer. “Not too much, not too little.”

Bianca dipped a ladle into the sauce, her movements careful as she spread it in concentric circles across the dough, leaving a border around the edge.

“Perfect. Now the cheese.” Charlie guided her to sprinkle handfuls of shredded mozzarella across the sauce. “This cheese is special—made right here in Vermont.”

“Special like the pizza maker,” Max said, his eyes meeting Charlie’s over Bianca’s head.

“Ah, so youdounderstand most of what we’re saying.” Charlie’s cheeks flamed. He knew how to look at her just right, with that flirtatious gleam in his eyes. Max Hayes knew how to charm a woman. Darn him.

“Not all, but a lot. So don’t say anything bad about me,” Max said.

“That would be impossible,” Charlie said. “There’s nothing to say.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you think so.”

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