Page 42 of One Little Chance
“Prom was over. I could mess up my dress then!” I defended myself.
“Two peas in a pod, these two.” My mom’s eyes twinkled as she took a sip of her apple cider.
I was thankful for this past outlined in gold, but I was even more thankful for how it led me straight to this future I was stepping into.
Chapter 19
DECEMBER 1ST, 2023
Me
Jordan, send me your Christmas wishlist?
Jordan
Literally I’m so stupidly happy lately, I can’t think of a single thing
just more of what I have now
which means I really just want all the Sophie I can get
Me
that can be arranged
To kick off December, my classroom made gingerbread houses. The kids were giggling and ecstatic which made it seem like a great idea, but they were also messy and hyper, which left me coming back home bone tired. My back was achy. My feet were sore.
The sun set earlier now, so the sky was black outside my window as I watched Jordan’s truck roll up outside my house.
“How was gingerbread house day?” Jordan asked as he kissed me hello on the cheek while I checked on my crockpot chili, the spicy tomato scent filling the kitchen.
“Logan said it was the best day ever.” I grinned. Logan was quiet and reserved, and it felt good to see him so giddy about something. “So it feels like a success.”
Jordan walked over to my dining room table, eyeing the remaining gingerbread kit. “What’ve we got here?”
“We had one kit left over,” I said, placing a wooden spoon on the spoon rest. “Wanna make it?”
Jordan leaned against the oak table, arms crossed over his chest. “Is it flammable?”
“Flammable?” I asked, confused.
Jordan chuckled, and I realized what he was getting at.
“It’s not goingin the ovenbecausethe gingerbread is prebaked.” I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t have to worry about any kitchen fires.”
“Hey, hey, you can never be too safe!” Jordan smiled at me, pleased with himself.
“After all the houses I made today, I’m pretty much a pro.” I popped my shoulders proudly.
Jordan broke into the cardboard box, pulling out the pieces of gingerbread and bags of gumdrops, candy canes, and frosting, laying them out on the table. I put on a Nat King Cole Christmas album, and the two of us got to work.
“I learned that frosting makes the best glue,” I explained as I leaned over the table smearing frosting on the edges of the gingerbread.
Jordan watched me as he kicked back in a dining room chair, a smile tugging at his lips. He tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear.
I stood up and purveyed the walls of the gingerbread house. Jordan was just watching me. Had been the whole time.
“Jordan Silk, you are no help.”
