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Show Inside Out, 38 Chapter 9: Andli Leslie was making cookies. She hadn't heard me enter the house because she was so busy, humming and mixing. Chocolate chip-Paul's favorite. She spoiled that boy. I stood just outside the door frame and watched her. She was wearing pink cashmere under her apron and she looked gorgeous, as always. A regular Betty Crocker, she danced around the kitchen, glowing. There was no doubt about it: she obviously loved this motherhood stuff. I must have made a noise because Leslie looked up in alarm, then smiled when she saw it was me. "Andli! Come on in! How was school? Do you want to taste the dough?" "I should probably get to the library," I said. "No, no," she said, pulling out a chair. "Come sit down for a second." I shuffled in, leaving my backpack in the hallway, and sat down. The old 1950's table with its chrome edging had been my grandmother's. It was perfect for Leslie and her apron. "Paul has been a little sad because he's having a hard time making friends here. So I convinced him to bring some friends home with him today. Isn't that cool?" she said. "I'm thinking that seven-year-old kids would be impressed by warm cookies-don't you think so?" Yeah. Last year, I had made lots of cookies for Paul and his little friends. He had had a hard time last year in Park City. A kid in his first grade class had bullied him. Did Leslie even know that about him? |