Birdie by M.C. Carr

eyes glued to my ass as I bent into her fridge to retrieve them.
    I set the loot gingerly on Tim’s counter when I get back. “There. Esther’s donation to her own gift.”
    Birdie flashes me a smile. “Thank you, Hero.”
    I help Birdie finish the recipe, surprised at how much fun it is. She shows me the steps and explains the differences between cake batter and cookie batter. “With cake, you can just throw everything in. It makes a thinner batter, see? With cookies, you have to work with your wet and dry ingredients separately, and then mix them.”
    I insist she show me, not because I don’t understand but because I’m licking the cake batter off the spoon and it’s delicious but not so much I’m willing to stick around and eat it with Esther. “Show me and you can give the cake to Esther and I’ll take the cookies with me.”
    She rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she sighs, but I can tell she doesn’t mind.
    “Show me the peppermint thingys,” I tell her and she purses her lips.
    “That’s a secret recipe. I’ll show you how to make chocolate cookies because I have extra cocoa on hand.”
    “Awwww, but I really like the peppermint ones. They’re gone already.”
    Her eyes turn stern. “No.” It’s so abrupt that I’m taken aback. The light mood is pulled from the air. Her face softens a little as she realizes how harsh that came out. “I’m sorry, it’s just…everyone always poked at my mom for that recipe and she refused to give it to anyone. Not even my older sister. I’m the only one she ever shared it with. When I say secret…it really is secret. Our secret.”
    I let it go. “Okay, show me how to make the chocolate cookies and I’ll take those.”
    “You can take half.”
    “Hey! I’m helping to make them.”
    “Quit complaining and grab more flour out of the cupboard. Oh, and we’ll need two more eggs.” Birdie’s smile is devilish.
     

Birdie
     
     
    Tim wolfs down a chocolate cookie and I pour some more lemonade. The coffee table’s hideous scratches are covered with a table cloth I picked up at the general store across the street from the library.  Next to the plate of cookies are some small sandwiches with turkey, Swiss cheese, and a honey mustard spread cut into squares with the crusts removed. Wesley, Tim, and I sit around the table on the sectional each with a copy of Shield Protector in our laps.
    I clear my throat.
    “Thank you all for coming this afternoon,” I begin. Wesley snickers and Tim rolls his eyes.
    “By ‘all’ you mean the two of us, right?” Tim asks. “Just us two?”
    I shoot him a glare. “You said you would behave just as a customer would,” I warn him and he backs off, raising his hands in surrender.
    “You’re right,” he agrees, then elbows Wes in the ribs. Wes rubs the spot sorely, but shuts up.
    When I proposed the idea of starting a book club at the bookstore, Miss Shirley green-lighted it and by green-light I mean she responded with “Whatever, kid” and turned back to her book. I instantly roped Tim and Wes into my dry run of leading a book discussion.
    “So let’s start with what you loved about the book or what you hated about the book.”
    Despite the teasing, it doesn’t take long before Tim and Wes are embroiled in a passionate debate over whether the shipping lord knew he was going to die or whether he was blinded by his faith in his brother. I sip my lemonade and smile at the two of them, offering my opinion when one of them stops in his tirade to draw a breath.
    By the time we’re done, Tim swears he’s never doing a book discussion again and swiping a Coke from the fridge.
    “Okay, but the next book is Dawn’s Revenge ,” I say as I clean up the leftovers.
    Tim pauses, his Coke halfway to his mouth. “Book two in the Shield Protector series?”
    “Hmmm hmmm.” My mouth is curved in a smile.
    Tim shrugs and fidgets. “Maybe I could do one more,” he says offhand and Wesley throws a grin at him. Wes’s phone