Free 12 Borrowing Trouble by Becky McGraw Page B

keep baking.  Those biscuits will be enough, but I want one of those cupcakes with my coffee,” she said with a laugh, pointing at the tray on the stove.
    Carrie stopped kneading and wiped her hands.  “They’re not iced yet.”
    “I don’t bake, but I think I can manage to ice my own cupcake.” Terri waved her hand.  “Where’s the icing?”
    “Refrigerator,” Carrie replied resuming her kneading. 
    Terri iced her cupcake, recovered the bowl, then put it back in the refrigerator.  She poured herself a cup of the coffee from the pot that Carrie made earlier.  “Okay, have fun with your baking.  I’m heading out to battle Bridezilla.  Wish me luck,” she said as she licked frosting from her finger.  At the back door she stopped and her face turned serious.  “You gonna be okay in here by yourself?” 
    Carrie nodded.  As long as she could finish her baking therapy.  Alone.  Thank goodness she didn’t have to stop to make breakfast.  Knowing her lack of cooking skills in anything other than baking, she would have burned the eggs and the grits would have been gritty anyway. 
    As the back door closed, a nother shot of emotion clogged her throat, but Carrie swallowed it back down and focused on kneading her bread.  Two more days and she could go home.  Or back to her parents’ ranch that hadn’t really been home for thirteen years.  A home she had left against her parents’ wishes to marry Sean, instead of going to college like they wanted her to do.  Her home, the one she and Sean bought after Chris was born, was probably occupied by another family now.  One who had a mother and a father to raise their kids.  A family whose kids weren’t in trouble all the time, because their pathetic single mother was too blind to see what they were doing.  Maybe she should have listened to her parents. 
    But then she wouldn’t have her kids.
    Even with as much trouble as Chris had been since he hit puberty, even with having to be a single parent, Carrie wouldn’t change her life.  Things happened the way they were supposed to, and she wouldn’t change a thing.  Damn, she missed them. 
    A sob worked itself past the knot in her throat and floated past her lips.  Carrie squeezed her eyes shut and breathed deeply, as she continued to knead the bread.  Tiredness washed through her, so Carrie grabbed the bowl off of the counter and slid down to sit on the floor with it on her lap.  A bigger sob escaped her, as she started kneading again then the tears refused to be stopped.  Her eyes and nostrils burned, and before long, it was hard to take a good breath she was crying so hard. 
    A shrill piercing noise sounded, and Carrie woke up.  Her tears evaporated when she realized the reason her eyes were burning wasn’t from the tears.  The kitchen was filled with smoke, and that shrill sound was the smoke alarm blaring.  Tossing the bowl of dough aside, she rose and sprinted toward the oven.  She flung open the door and where her perfectly browned cookies should have been were smoldering black lumps of coal. 
    With a cough, s he jerked a dishtowel off the counter and snatched one sheet from the oven.  The towel slipped, her skin met the hot metal pan and she yelped.  The sheet fell from her fingers to hit the floor.  She jumped aside as it clattered and cookies scattered.  Ignoring the throbbing welt raising on her palm, Carrie reached inside for the second sheet, then the third. 
    Disgust filled her as she flung open drawers until she found a spatula.  Through the smoke and her tears, she could barely see the stove as she dragged the trashcan over there from the pantry and began scraping the pans into the trash.  Realization dawned that she had just wasted what was probably fifty dollars’ worth of cookie supplies.  She would have to pay Terri back before she left.  More money, and just one more example of what a fuckup she was on her own.  Self-pity overcame her and Carrie didn’t just