The Herald Angels Sing” just minutes after Claudia and Stewart left at ten P.M. Lissette stood on the porch, tolerating their bright, smiling faces and cheerful voices. It wasn’t their fault that the clock was ticking and Rafferty had not appeared. They had not set up this arbitrary deadline. They were not the ones with conflicted hopes and dreams. What was wrong with her? Once the carolers left, she shut the door and wandered into the kitchen. Bake. It would keep her occupied. She baked cowboy cookies. She sifted flour and scooped sugar. It calmed her. These measured details. She’d told Rafferty that she was a big-picture person, but that wasn’t true. She was just as detailed oriented as he was. She liked the comfort of measuring and weighing. A baker needed instructions, rules. A cook was another matter A cook could throw a handful of this and a handful of that.
