Marta saw Ezra watching her out of the corner of her eyes, but it didn’t make her nervous. If anything it gave her motivation to do better. She watched as Ezra picked up a mixing tool, which she was pretty sure was called a whisk, but she didn’t want to sound stupid and be wrong. She took the whisk in her hand and placed it into the bowl and listened to Ezra’s instructions. It made sense, but the execution may result differently. A person can will themselves to do something right, but when it actually comes time to doing it, it could fail miserably. 

But she didn’t need to worry because the next second, she felt Ezra’s hand on hers and his body pressed against her back. She got chills from the closeness and closed her eyes for a second to calm the butterflies forming in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if Ezra being close to her would ever stop feeling so wonderful. She watched and felt how he moved her hand with the whisk, letting her muscles try to memorize the movement. It felt weird, but natural at the same time. Once he let go, and stepped away, Marta continued to mix. She saw Ezra starting to slice the apricots. They really were Marta’s favorite fruit; she had one almost every morning with breakfast. 

Once the mixture was all nice and fluffy, she reached over a grabbed the flour. She took the 1 cup measuring spoon and filled it up before pouring it into the bowl. She began to use the whisk again to mix the batter, but it got harder with the flour since it was turning into dough. She felt herself struggling, but kept going. She saw Ezra watching her carefully again and she had a hunch she was doing something wrong.

She reached over and put her index finger into the extra flour, then reached up and smeared it onto Ezra’s nose. She let out a small giggle before saying, “Clearly I am messing up, so tell me what to do.”