The Word Game Page 4

  “Monster cookies, Lyla?” She dropped a kiss onto her granddaughter’s head.

  “Can we? Please?”

  “Katherine, let’s get all the ingredients out, shall we?” Ida clapped her hands and then went to grab an apron out of the drawer. Things could get messy, but messy was okay when it was created with love.

  “While the women work, how about we challenge your brothers to a new game on that fancy machine you have.” Gordon steered Elijah out of the kitchen and back into the living room. “The winner gets extra cookies fresh from the oven.”

  Ida turned her attention back to the kitchen where the girls were gathering supplies out of the pantry.

  “Sounds like we’re going to need to make a lot,” Lyla said as she grabbed a large mixing bowl and wooden spoons.

  “Should we make extra for you to take home?”

  At her question, Lyla shook her head. “Mom won’t let me eat them if I do.”

  “What about your dad then?”

  Lyla nodded. “He’ll let me eat them.” A wide smile grew on her face. “Let’s just not tell Mom, okay?”

  She was a bit surprised at Lyla’s duplicity. Not tell her mom? Since when had Lyla ever gone against Alyson?

  “Or we can just make sure we eat them all before your mom comes and picks you up. That way you’re not lying or anything,” Katy said. She paused in opening the lids on the sugar and flour containers.

  Lyla’s lips thinned, but she didn’t say a word.

  The silence between the two girls was palpable as Ida had them follow the recipe she’d been taught as a young child. Katy had wanted to use the mixer, but Ida wouldn’t allow it. The best cookies were the ones made completely from scratch—and that included having to hand mix them.

  “Shall I tell you a story of the first time I remember making cookies with my own Oma?”

  The girls perked up at this, smiles gracing their faces. They always loved her stories, whether it was from when she was a child on a farm in Germany or stories of their moms when they were young girls.

  “Did you make monster cookies too?” Lyla asked.

  Ida shook her head. “The cookies I made are called Engelsaugen. Do you know what that means?”

  Both girls shook their heads.

  “‘Angel eyes.’ They were my father’s favorite cookie ever, and out of all my sisters, I made them the best.”

  “Do you still make them?” Katy asked.

  Ida pretended to be shocked. “Still make them? Of course I do. You eat them every Christmas, my dear little girl.”

  “Can you teach me how to make them this year, Oma?”

  Ida stilled. The last time Lyla had called her Oma had been . . . years ago.

  She gave Lyla a hug. “Of course I will, darling girl. We’ll make the best Engelsaugen cookies ever.” Anything to place a smile on this girl’s face and to make her laugh.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ALYSON

  “Good morning, beautiful,” Scott whispered in Alyson’s ear. “Breakfast smells amazing.” He nuzzled her neck, while she swatted him away.

  “If you don’t want your breakfast burned, then you should let me finish.” She quickly kissed his cheek before checking on the omelet she was making.

  She was excited to pick up Lyla this morning and hear all about the sleepover, but she wanted to enjoy the morning with Scott before he left for work. It had been a long time since it had just been the two of them, and she wanted to savor each moment.

  “Last night was fun. We should do it more often.” Scott poured himself a coffee and leaned against the counter.

  “It was. Everyone we talked to seemed to enjoy themselves, which was great.”

  “Do you think Lyla had fun?” Scott asked. There was a look in his eye, a twinkling, as if he knew she was trying hard not to bring their daughter up.

  “I hope so.” She flipped the omelet onto a plate, cutting it in half and transferring part of it onto a smaller plate. She added turkey bacon to the plates, and then handed Scott his.

  “Seriously? No real bacon?” He pouted for a moment before taking a slice and biting into it. “It doesn’t even taste like bacon,” he muttered, taking his plate and coffee over to the breakfast bar.

  “Thanks for breakfast, Aly. You’re welcome, Scott,” Alyson said quietly.

  “Thank you for breakfast, my dear sweet wife.” Scott got the hint.

  “You’re welcome, my dear handsome husband.” She teased him before sitting beside him.

  “What do you think about maybe going away one weekend? Just the two of us?” Scott asked.

  “Where?”

  He shrugged. “Paul was telling me about that bed-and-breakfast place he’s taking Rachel. I thought we could do something similar.”

  Alyson ate her omelet and didn’t say anything right away. She felt torn. Yes, it would be nice to get away. It was something they used to do all the time before Lyla was born . . . but it meant leaving Lyla, and she wasn’t sure about that.

  “She never called, so I assume that’s a good thing, right?” It was as if Scott knew what she was thinking.

  “I hope so, but she’s still a bit young . . .”

  “Just think about it, okay? I miss us . . . when we can just be a couple, not parents or anything else. Don’t you miss it too?”

  She took a sip of her coffee and frowned. “But we are parents, Scott. It’s not like we can just ignore that part of our lives whenever we feel like it. We both knew our lives would change once we had Lyla.”

  “You know what I mean,” Scott said. He ate the remainder of his breakfast in silence.

  What was she supposed to do? Say yes, that she’d love to go away without knowing more information? When? Where? For how long—one night or two? What about his work and Lyla’s dance and swim schedule? Of course, she would love to go away, but it wasn’t always possible. Was it fair of him to sulk just because she didn’t give a resounding yes?

  “How long do you think you’ll be today?” she asked after he’d pushed his plate away. She got up and filled his thermos with coffee and then another with water.

  “I hope to be home midafternoon. I’ll get the framing finished today, so we can send a crew in to mud and tape on Monday.” He grabbed the thermoses and hooked them onto one of his workbags. “What’s the plan for today with Lyla?”

  Alyson began to clean things up. “She’s making cookies with mom this morning, and then I’ll pick her up for dance.”

  “There’s dance today? After her recital yesterday?” He stopped. “Why not give the kids a day off?”

  “It won’t be a full practice, just something fun to reward the kids for yesterday and stuff.” She’d questioned the same thing, especially after the kids had had a late night with the sleepover, but Myah convinced her that it would be a good outlet for the tired kids.

  She hoped she was right.

  “Well, if she’s not too tired tonight, why don’t we all go out? Dinner and a movie or maybe a movie and dessert after?”

  “So another late night? Do you plan on being home all day tomorrow to deal with her grumpiness?” Scott was all about the fun, but unfortunately, she was the one who had to deal with the consequences.

  “I’ll leave it up to you, then. You know best, I suppose.” There was something in his tone that put her on edge.

  “What’s the issue?” She asked.

  He just shrugged and grabbed his bags. “Nothing. I’ll see you tonight.”

  He left, while she stood there trying to figure out what set him off. She hated when he walked away from her like that. If he had a problem with her, he should tell her, talk it out, deal with it. Face it head on and get it out of the way now rather than let it fester, which is what he was going to do.

  She poured herself another cup of coffee. So where did that leave her? Sh
e didn’t want a late night for Lyla. She was probably already going to be little miss grumpy pants.

  She reached for her phone and typed a message to Scott.

  Let’s order in, Lyla’s choice, and watch a movie at home. You can run out and get ice cream after dinner maybe? Or make our own sundaes?

  It meant more sugar, which really wouldn’t help matters, but it would still be a fun night, right? Give and take—isn’t that what marriage and parenting were all about?

  See, she could relax, stop being so stringent, and have fun.

  She called her sister’s house, to prove to herself she could be fun.

  “Hi, Mom.” Lyla answered. Her voice was chipper and happy, and any misgivings Alyson had had about her daughter’s first sleepover disappeared.

  “Hey, honey. How’s it going so far? Did you have a good time last night?”

  “Oma is baking cookies with us. Chocolate chip. And she said I can bring some home—is that okay? I thought Daddy might like some.”

  Alyson couldn’t help but be surprised by the term Oma. Lyla never called her grandmother anything but Grandma.

  “I’m sure your dad would like some. Make sure to make enough, and we can do ice cream sandwiches for dessert tonight.” See . . . fun. She could do it.

  “Really?” The surprise in her daughter’s voice irked her. Well, okay, maybe it was warranted, since she rarely allowed her daughter to have sugar.

  Maybe instead of ice cream they could do frozen yogurt. If she started it now, she could make up a homemade batch, which would be a lot healthier than the store-bought kind.

  “Really. Have fun making cookies with Grandma, and I’ll see you in an hour, okay?” That would give her enough time to make the creamy mixture, clean up, and get over there before dance practice.

  Within the hour, Alyson had made a batch of vanilla frozen yogurt that was now setting up in the freezer. She’d cleaned her kitchen from breakfast and did a load of laundry. After dance practice, she could relax a little with Lyla and find out how last night went without distraction.

  When she arrived at Tricia’s, she rang the doorbell before walking in and followed the delicious aroma of freshly baked cookies. Ida was in her glory with her grandchildren surrounding her. Her apron was dirty, the kitchen a disaster, but she was smiling and talking to the kids . . . in German?

  Lyla sat at the kitchen table and was adding cookies to a storage container. “Hi, Mom. How many cookies do you think we’ll need for tonight? Oma let me make the first batch, since I have to leave first.”

  “Oma did, did she?” Alyson stressed the German word for grandmother and raised an eyebrow at her mother.

  Ida just shrugged. “Es ist Zeit, sie die Muttersprache zu lernen.”

  “They already know their mother language—it’s English.” Lyla had never expressed any interest in learning German, and if she were honest, Alyson would prefer to keep it that way. She had no interest in her heritage. It had been shoved down her throat time and time again during her childhood, until Alyson had grown up hating being told to be a good German girl. What was wrong with just being a good girl?

  “Where’s Tricia?” Alyson expected her sister to be right in the mix of things.

  When Ida didn’t answer immediately, Alyson turned to her daughter, suddenly suspicious.

  “She went out for coffee with Keera’s mom.” It was Katy who finally offered up the information.

  Alyson sighed but kept all thoughts to herself. One look from her mother confirmed that Ida knew how she felt.

  “Ready to go, Lyla?” They had at least forty-five minutes before class started, but she didn’t really want to stick around. “Thanks for the cookies, Mom.” She took the container full of cookies from her daughter, then grabbed her bags while Lyla put her shoes and coat on.

  “Sure you need to run so soon? She has time before her class, doesn’t she?” Ida followed them out into the hallway.

  “How long has Tricia been gone?”

  Ida shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, as if she didn’t care how Alyson felt about Lyla being here without Tricia present.

  “See you on Sunday, Mom.” Alyson readjusted her grip on the bag she carried and attempted to smile.

  “So . . . how was it last night?” she asked Lyla once they were in the car and driving down the road.

  “It was fine.” Her daughter stared out the window. “Can we get some lunch before practice? Maybe a smoothie?”

  It was fine? “That sounds good. We can stop at the little café across from the dance studio—you like their smoothies, right?”

  Lyla nodded and continued to stare out the window.

  Perhaps she was just tired. Lyla was an introvert, much like herself, and being with so many people for that long probably overwhelmed her. So Alyson gave her daughter some space. They sat in silence at the café while Lyla sipped at her strawberry-banana smoothie and Alyson drank a carrot juice and ate one of their specialty items—a house-made protein bar made with coconut oil.

  Lyla seemed to perk up halfway through her smoothie, and she began to talk about the recital, asking questions about the routine and what Alyson’s favorite part had been.

  After buying a coffee to go, together they walked across the street to the dance studio at the back of the theater. Alyson was impressed with how Myah had managed to turn one of the larger rooms into a real studio. Alyson wondered what would happen with the theater if Myah and Eddie divorced. It would be sad to lose something that had become so integral to their community.

  While Lyla went to change into her dance clothes, Alyson settled into the seat nearest the girls who had already arrived and were stretching on the mats. Alyson sipped her hot coffee and checked the time. Myah was late. Again. This was the fifth time since September, and from the looks of the other mothers around her, she wasn’t the only one who noticed.

  “Wonder what the excuse will be this time.” Melinda Brown leaned over and stage-whispered into her ear. “If her husband wasn’t so expensive, half the moms in here would have signed their girls up for his class. Hell, half the moms would have signed themselves up too.”

  Alyson pretended she didn’t hear that last part. Sure, Eddie Mendez had looks to sweep any woman off her feet, but he also had the character of a slug.

  When Alyson caught the nods of agreement from the other women around them, she reached for her phone and sent her sister a text.

  Where’s Myah? She’s not at class.

  “Someone should say something.” Melinda nudged Alyson in the arm.

  “Feel free,” Alyson said quietly as she waited for her sister to respond.

  No idea. She left here twenty minutes ago. She told Eddie she wanted a divorce and wasn’t doing too good this morning, her sister replied.

  So they were getting a divorce. That would be hard on Myah.

  Think she’ll show up? Maybe Myah mentioned something to Tricia.

  “But you’re friends with her.” Melinda wouldn’t let the subject go.

  “I’m not the one with the issue though, Melinda. You are. Or someone else should say something if it bothers them so much. Honestly—I wouldn’t stress over today. It’s just a fun class—Myah already told us that.” While she was a little bothered Myah hadn’t shown up yet, she wasn’t going to admit that, especially not to Melinda.

  “Fun class or not, we deserve her full attention. I mean, the kids deserve it. God knows I wouldn’t mind sleeping in a few mornings a week. I get why the kids have dance lessons in the morning on the weekends, but do we really need to come to yoga lessons during the week?” Melinda grumbled.

  Melinda complained about the early morning practices every other week it seemed. But seriously, she didn’t have to sign her daughter up for the new yoga classes Myah offered if she didn’t like mornings. Alyson turned slightly in her chair and crossed her legs bef
ore giving Lyla a small wave. Lyla waved back, a timid smile on her face.

  No idea. Tricia had finally responded.

  Alyson put her phone away and watched her daughter interact with the other girls.

  “Hey.” Melinda nudged her in the arm again. “Maryanne is having a sleepover next weekend, and we were wondering if Lyla would want to come? It’ll just be other girls from dance and a few from their classroom.”

  Another sleepover so soon?

  “Who else will be there exactly?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual girls.” She began to name off most of the girls in the dance class. “And their friends from school, of course. Sarah, Alicia, Rose, and of course, Katy.” Melinda smiled.

  “Does Maryanne go to a lot of sleepovers?” Alyson asked.

  Melinda nodded. “She loves them. She mentioned Lyla isn’t at many, so I’m not sure if it’s just her crazy schedule or if she’s not into sleepovers, but I thought we’d give it a try at least. I hope she’ll come—she’ll have so much fun.”

  “Let me ask her.” Since she really had no idea how last night went, she wasn’t sure if Lyla would want to do more overnight parties. Her first reaction was to say no, but she knew Scott wouldn’t be happy if she didn’t at least mention it to Lyla first.

  “Is she still in swimming? How is that going?” Melinda persisted in creating small talk, and despite her mind being on other issues, Alyson turned to her so she didn’t come across as rude.

  “It’s good and she loves it. Is Maryanne interested in joining again?”

  “It’s too expensive. I don’t know how you can afford that plus dance. Don’t they realize we’re not made out of money?”

  Alyson nodded. It was expensive, but she and Scott had known that going in and decided it was worth it. “Are there other groups that don’t cost as much, if it’s something she wants to do?”

  Melinda shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t have the time for it. Besides, I don’t think we should keep kids so active. Let them learn to do things on their own instead of always being in scheduled activities. Whatever happened to downtime?”