Count Your Lucky Stars •CHAENNIE•

Chapter 12

Roseanne dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen floor and began unpacking them, setting the sugar and cocoa powder down on the counter.

Circling her feet, Cat mewled, ignoring the bowl of dry kibble beside the fridge, demanding wet food instead.

"I'll get it." Jennie slid behind Roseanne and swiped a can of Friskies off the counter. She cracked open the metal pull-top lid and dumped the pâté on a plate. "Come on, you little monster. Time for food."

Roseanne laughed. "Little monster?"

"She is," Jennie said, snagging her Ben & Jerry's and carrying it over to the freezer. "The cat screams like a banshee. I swear, half the time she doesn't meow, she howls."

Jennie wasn't wrong. Cat could reach a screeching pitch Roseanne had never heard prior to adopting her. "She is a little bit of a hellion, isn't she?"

Cat's green eyes flicked up, ears twitching as if she knew she was being talked about. Her tail swished, and she lowered her gaze to the plate, focus returning to her food.

Jennie laughed and shut the freezer. "Understatement."

Cat sneezed in Jennie's direction. Roseanne laughed before setting her hands on her hips, running through the recipe in her head.

Butter, sugar, eggs . . . shoot. Before leaving for the store, she'd grabbed the butter out to soften, but had forgotten about the eggs. "Could you grab two eggs for me?"

Jennie nodded and ducked her head inside the fridge.

Vanilla extract, flour, cocoa powder, white chocolate chunks, salt, baking soda . . . Roseanne gathered the ingredients one by one, placing them on the counter, separated into wet and dry. Jennie set the eggs down on the counter, using the sticks as a barricade so the eggs wouldn't roll.

All she needed now was a bowl, a rubber spatula, and-"Where do you keep your mixer?"

Jennie stared. "My what?"

"You know?" Roseanne spun her finger in a circle. "Your hand mixer."

"Oh, right." Jennie scratched her jaw. "Um. Let's see . . ." She crouched down and rifled through the cabinet beside the stove. Something fell, clattering loudly, metal on metal. Jennie grunted and fell back on her butt against the kitchen floor, wearing a triumphant grin. Cradled against her stomach was a KitchenAid stand mixer, scuffed from age. Likely a hand-me-down, but still, absolutely a step up from a hand mixer. "Will this do?"

"Thanks. You want to cream the butter and sugar for me?"

Jennie looked at Roseanne like she'd lost her mind. "Me? You're trusting me in the kitchen? Me, who almost burned down your kitchen boiling water?"

Roseanne flushed at the memory of Jennie leaving a pot of pasta water boiling on the stove that memorable spring break. How she'd forgotten about it, how they'd both gotten distracted. How the pot had boiled dry and the smoke detector had beeped shrilly, the caustic smell of the burning plastic pot handle drifting up the stairs to Roseanne's room, sending them both scurrying into the kitchen half-dressed. "I'm sure your culinary skills have undergone some amount of improvement over the last eleven years."

"Don't be so sure, Rosie. I think you're underestimating my ability to survive on packaged foods and takeout."

Roseanne tucked her hair behind her ears and shrugged. "It's butter and sugar. What's the worst that could happen?"

Jennie shrugged and reached for the KitchenAid's power cord. "Famous last words."

Roseanne reached inside the cabinet for a bowl and began measuring out the dry ingredients from memory. Jennie, struggling with the wrapper on the butter, noticed. "You don't follow a recipe?"