Page 52 of Tommy

“Why don’t you spend it with your family?” I asked. He never spoke about them, so I hoped this wasn’t a can of worms.

“Raised by my grandma, she died when I was nineteen. Never had a relationship with my mom. She wasn’t the type of person I needed in my life,” he said. “She was a single mom, but she didn’t want to be a mom, so I never put that on her. And it’s why even now, I wouldn’t even call her that.”

“Sorry to—”

“No,” he said, his tone stern then his soft smile broke it. “It’s not something you need to feel sorry for. I processed all that already. You know, the recipes I use are my grandma’s,” he said. “And you know what we haven’t done yet. Which surprises me because you said you wanted them when you first moved in here from the cabin.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“Chocolate chip cookies, I think you said something about them,” he said.

It was entirely possible. I knew I’d mentioned cake. “We can make cookies today then.”

“As soon as we’ve finished with our morning, I think there’s nothing better I’d like to do with you.”

Hardin was the perfect Daddy. I didn’t have experience with many Daddies, but I knew perfect when I felt it, and he singlehandedly pulled me out of a strange place. A place I was getting ready to bury myself in like I knew how to very well. He wasn’t going to let me, at least not without a fight first.

Cookies seemed to solve everything, and also being told that all my worries and fears were easily solved because he was going to take them into his hands and he was going to be the one who solved them.

20. HARDIN

There was nothing worse than seeing someone you cared for upset. I didn’t know what to do about it because he hadn’t told me what was really going on. From all the information he’d given me and also the way Mick had talked about him, I knew had something going on mentally, so when I saw him suddenly look dejected, I had to take it into my own hands as a Daddy who had been a little rusty to the kink, but was more than willing to do what it took to see a smile.

Tommy had made a lot of his feelings clear, even if they were behind a lot of other things, like his want to stay with me for as long as possible, and also his comments about how he felt like he could work so much better here rather than his apartment. I should’ve taken the hints earlier and asked him to stay, but I didn’t want to come on too strong, I was still having a hard time for the emotional expression of it all.

Cooking was my love language, and after we finished the morning round with all the animals, I showed him just what my love language meant to me. The recipe cards I used were still in my grandmother’s handwriting, and now they were protected behind plastic wallets after I left a coffee stain on the back of one. The coffee cake recipe ironically.

Tommy wasn’t in a onesie for the first time, it was safer not to be especially with how he seemed to slip around everywhere in them.

“There’s only one rule, other than washing your hands. And that rule is, there is no limit to the amount of chocolate chips you need,” I started with. “My grandma said you feel that with your heart.”

“And I would agree,” he said. “But I also need to know if you have things to decorate them with and also cutters.”

“Of course.” They were buried in the depths of the cupboards. I never used them, but there was an entire box of metal cutters in all different shapes. They weren’t all my collection. I liked to stick with the circles, a nice, uniform shape, but those were already in one of the drawers from the being used to cut circles in pastry for pot pies.

As I gathered all the ingredients, Tommy rummaged through the box of cookie cutter shapes. He found many festive shapes hiding in there, and I knew there were plenty.

“Where do you get all these from?” he asked.

“June, mostly,” I said. “She knows I like to cook and stuff. And I’ve been known to donate cookies to the town events. Although I always make sure June tells them they were made by someone else.”

Tommy laughed, sitting on the floor with the box between his legs. “That sounds like you’re going through a lot just for people not to know how nice you really are,” he said. “I bet the people in town are nice.”

“They might just be, but I’m happy to live here without too much interference from them,” I said. “And before you say it, I don’t really mind being left alone to my own devices.”

“If you want to be alone, I can—”

“Don’t you dare,” I said, knowing he was about to tease me with the idea of letting him leave. “You’re staying right where you are. In fact, remind me, once the cookies are in the oven, I’ll call Mick and tell him about the change of plans.” I should’ve done it earlier this morning, but we both got carried away with the cookies and I just wanted to make him happy.

Cookies were one of the easiest things to make, and understand. I vividly recalled my grandma with her wooden spoon in hand, beating all the ingredients together, and if I dared try scoop a finger into the batter, she’d whack my hand away, but then let me eat the batter once the cookies were all cutand laid out on the baking tray. She taught me more about the way to a person’s smile than anyone else—it was food.

Together, we mixed one large bowl of cookie dough. We took it in turns, he would use all his power and get red in the face, then hand it off to me to finish. Once it was all combined, I dusted a little flour on the counter and rolled the dough out into a sheet of a quarter inch thick.

“I have a lot of shapes,” Tommy said, holding all of them up on individual fingers. “We don’t have to use them all, but I—”

“We absolutely do, if you want them, we’ll use them,” I said. “You made sure to wash them with warm soapy water, right?”

“I have to wash them?”

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