One stick of butter, softened. Stir.
Too sticky. More flour.
Three-quarters of a cup of chocolate chips. Sigh heavily. Bite your lip. Don’t cry…. Blue chocolate chips. Keep stirring.
Paul laid a hand gently on his wife’s shoulder. “Sally,” he said again. Slowly she fell still, weighed down by the silence.
For a moment she breathed before resuming her baking. “Just one more batch,” she intoned, tears in her eyes. “Just one more. They have to be fresh. One more, and he’ll be home. One more.”
Paul folded her into his arms as she collapsed into sobs. “Where is he?” she demanded, but the fight was long gone from her voice. “Where is he?”
“Annabeth and the others are on their way to California.”
“But he called! He called and said he was on a quest and th