Page 55 of Count Your Lucky Stars
Margot laughed and shut the freezer. “Understatement.”
Cat sneezed in Margot’s direction. Olivia laughed before setting her hands on her hips, running through the recipe in her head.
Butter, sugar, eggs... shoot. Before leaving for the store, she’d grabbed the butter out to soften, but had forgotten about the eggs. “Could you grab two eggs for me?”
Margot nodded and ducked her head inside the fridge.
Vanilla extract, flour, cocoa powder, white chocolate chunks, salt, baking soda... Olivia gathered the ingredients one by one, placing them on the counter, separated into wet and dry. Margot set the eggs down on the counter, using the sticks as a barricade so the eggs wouldn’t roll.
All she needed now was a bowl, a rubber spatula, and—“Where do you keep your mixer?”
Margot stared. “My what?”
“You know?” Olivia spun her finger in a circle. “Your hand mixer.”
“Oh, right.” Margot scratched her jaw. “Um. Let’s see...” She crouched down and rifled through the cabinet beside the stove. Something fell, clattering loudly, metal on metal. Margot grunted and fell back on her butt against the kitchen floor, wearing a triumphant grin. Cradled against her stomach was a KitchenAid stand mixer, scuffed from age. Likely a hand-me-down, but still, absolutely a step up from a hand mixer. “Will this do?”
“Thanks. You want to cream the butter and sugar for me?”
Margot looked at Olivia like she’d lost her mind. “Me? You’re trustingmein the kitchen? Me, who almost burned down your kitchen boiling water?”
Olivia flushed at the memory of Margot leaving a pot of pasta water boiling on the stove that memorable spring break. How she’d forgotten about it, how they’d both gotten distracted. How the pot had boiled dry and the smoke detector had beeped shrilly, the caustic smell of the burning plastic pot handle drifting up the stairs to Olivia’s room, sending them both scurrying into the kitchen half-dressed. “I’m sure your culinary skills have undergonesomeamount of improvement over the last eleven years.”
“Don’t be so sure, Liv. I think you’re underestimating my ability to survive on packaged foods and takeout.”
Olivia tucked her hair behind her ears and shrugged. “It’s butter and sugar. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Margot shrugged and reached for the KitchenAid’s power cord. “Famous last words.”
Olivia reached inside the cabinet for a bowl and began measuring out the dry ingredients from memory. Margot, struggling with the wrapper on the butter, noticed. “You don’t follow a recipe?”
Olivia shook her head, leveling off a cup of sifted flour with the back of a butter knife. “They’re my go-to cookie. I could probably make them in my sleep.”
“Brad’s an idiot,” Margot grumbled, frowning at the KitchenAid in concentration, studying the buttons. As soon as she flipped the on switch, butter spewed at high speed, splattering the kitchen backsplash. She shut it off and frowned. “Huh.”
Olivia laughed. “Speed switch?”
Margot turned bright red.
This time, the mixer was much smoother, whipping the softened butter instead of obliterating it.
“You were saying.” Olivia dumped the cup of flour into the bowl and grabbed the baking soda. “Something about Brad being an idiot?”
Margot’s eyes flittered to Olivia’s and back to the bowl where the KitchenAid was turning the butter and sugar into one homogeneous mixture. “What? Does the statementBrad’s an idiotreally require further explanation?”
Olivia pressed her lips together, trying in vain not to laugh. “Add this.”
She nudged the bowl of dry ingredients toward Margot.
Margot reached for the bowl and tilted it, too much, too fast. A cloud of cocoa powder poofed in the air, making her cough.
“Margot.”
“Sorry!” She reached for the speed switch and flicked it the wrong direction because the mixer made a loud whirring noise, whipping a violent splatter of chocolate dough around the room. A thick glob of it landed against Olivia’s cheek and she shrieked, ducking for cover.
Margot swore loudly and powered the mixer off altogether.
Laughter bubbled up behind the tight press of Olivia’s lips, bursting out in a sharp snicker.
