Nothing More (Landon Gibson 1)

suspicion, but she doesn’t say a word.

“Lila.” I bend down to talk to the little girl. “We’re going to decorate a cake. Do you want to come into the kitchen with us?”

Lila looks up at me and grabs her car. “Car,” she chirps, holding the shiny Hot Wheel up to show me.

“Yep. You can take your car with you.” I reach for her hand and she takes mine.

“I’m going to close my eyes for a few more minutes and rest,” Tessa says, lying back down.

I tell her to go back to sleep and I walk Lila into the kitchen. Nora follows.

“Well, hi, beautiful. What’s your name?” Nora asks.

Lila doesn’t look at her, but she says her name and sits down at the table.

“What a beautiful name. Do you like cake?” Nora asks her.

Lila doesn’t answer.

I touch Nora’s arm to get her attention. She turns to me and I hold my hand up to block my mouth from Lila as I speak.

“She’s autistic,” I explain.

Realization dawns on Nora’s face and she nods and sits down next to Lila at the table.

“Cool car,” she says to her.

Lila smiles and rolls the car over Nora’s hand, saying “zoom, zoom.” I take it as her stamp of approval.

“Do you remember how to make the icing?” Nora asks from her seat at the table.

I nod. “Powdered sugar, butter, vanilla, and something else . . .”

I can’t recall the last ingredient even though we had to make the stuff just last night.

“Milk.”

I nod. “Right. Milk. And seventeen drops of food coloring.”

She glares at me. “One or two drops.”

“Okay, so ten drops. I get it.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes. I watch as a sparkle of life comes back to them. “Two drops.”

I walk over to the cabinet and grab the box of food coloring. “Well, if I’m supposed to get this right, I may need supervision. Do you know any bakers?”

Take that, pastry chef.

She shakes her head. “Nope. Sure don’t, sorry.” A playful smile lights up her face.

I sigh dramatically and grab a new bag of powdered sugar from the cabinet.

“That’s too bad. I can’t promise I won’t mess this up.”

Nora watches me with amusement in her eyes. “He’s an awful baker,” she loudly whispers to Lila.

Lila looks at her and smiles.

I wave a big spoon at the two of them. “Hey, don’t go ganging up on me.”

Nora laughs.

I make my way to the fridge and grab the milk and a stick of butter, then I get the mixing bowl out of the dishwasher. I actually do remember how to make the icing.

I think . . .