#Chapter 103: Whipped cream and fantasies

            Tina insisted I spend the next day with her.

            “Today is a day for baking pies,” she said, pointing to the window. It was lightly storming outside, with steady rain and dark clouds.

            I let her get it started, enjoying several cups of coffee in the morning while she made the dough. I was never any good at that part, anyway.

            “Are you afraid to get your hands dirty now, my daughter?”

            “Very funny,” I replied. “To be honest, I never really liked getting my hands dirty, even before.”