“Daddy gets a special treat too?” Rebecca asked.
Andrew’s eyes whipped down to mine, and I felt my cheeks flush. The way he looked at me, I knew exactly what was on his mind. I didn’t mind it one bit.
“He does,” I said with a grin.
I bent down to the display case and pulled out a fresh piece of red velvet cake.
“Do I get sprinkles?” Andrew asked.
“Sure.”
“The pink, please.”
“You want pink sprinkles?” Rebecca asked.
“Boys can have pink sprinkles. Just like you can have green ones,” he said.
The sentiment melted my heart. He really was a good father. He would be a great father to the child I gave him.
“How much do I owe you?” he asked as I shook out the sprinkles.
“Nothing. It’s on me,” I said. “Special treat remember?”
“No, Heather. Let me pay you. How much?”
“Andrew, it’s fine. First-time customers and all.”
“I’m not letting you absorb this cost.”
“Well, it’s not your decision,” I said.
I watched him pull out a twenty-dollar bill and stick it into my tip jar.
“There,” he said. “A tip for the gracious woman.”
I rolled my eyes as a smile crossed my face.
He smiled back and I was lost for a moment, until the most gut-sickening sound alive erupted, an ear-piercing squeak followed by a massive clunk.
“Oh no.”
“What was that?” Andrew asked.
“Give me a second,” I said.
I walked back into the kitchen and headed straight for the oven. I’d heard that sound once before with the piece of shit, and it had cost me almost two-thousand dollars to fix it. I turned on the oven light and crouched down to look in, watching as the red light slowly faded away.
“No, no, no,” I said to myself.
“Heather? Is everything okay?” Andrew asked.
“I’m fine. I’m good. You guys enjoy your—ouch!”
I shook my burned hand out as the oven door came toppling open. Great. Not only was the oven broken, but the mechanism to keep the damn thing closed was broken as well.
“Here,” Andrew said as he grabbed a wet rag. “Let me see that.”
I watched as he took my hand delicately; wrapping the reddened, hot skin in a cool washcloth. I looked up into his face and watched him concentrate while treating me as if I were a delicate valuable. His eyes lifted to mine as he tucked the washcloth underneath itself, reassuring me it would stay once he let go.