Chapter Text
"Hello? Mrs. Neederlander?" Charlie pulls the phone away from his head. When the screeching on the other end stops, he tries again. "Ma'am? It's about the bread." Silence follows on the line, but in the kitchen something rattles then pops and Dani screams. "We need your help."
Mrs. Neederlander is suitably unimpressed when she arrives. The kitchen is a disaster, covered in baking supplies and caked in flour, but when Dani turns and hangs her head, the old woman laughs. "Child, I think you could burn water." Finally, Dani begins to cry, looking around at the mess she's made and the burnt bread in the oven. "Come now, it's not as bad as all that. First things first, we clean up."
The old woman bustles about the firehouse kitchen like she owns the place, and for the moment she might as well. Kade solemnly fishes the charred remains of Dani's tenth attempt from the oven. He scrapes the racks and elements with practiced ease, leaving the oven spotless in record time.
"Well, that's a first," Mrs. Neederlander snarks. "A man who can clean." Kade flicks his eyes at her, but moves on silently to peeling raw dough from the ceiling. How it got there, no one asks. Eventually, the kitchen is clean enough to work in. "Young man," Mrs. Neederlander orders as Kade rolls the mop and bucket out of the room. "Get the rest of your family. We don't have time to dilly dally."
"Yes, ma'am," Kade replies, uncharacteristically polite. He wheels the bucket into the garage to empty it, on the lookout for his brothers and father.
"Why are you being so obedient?" Heatwave asks, failing to shock the smaller fireman.
Kade's face stays grim as he finishes his chore. "We need her," is all he says.
"Kade?" Heatwave sounds just a little worried now. The red-head sighs, pausing.
"Can you contact the others? Mrs. Neederlander wants us all in the kitchen."
--
Mrs. Neederlander is a slave driver. But she isn't heartless, sensing Kade's strange mood and leaving it alone. After a few false starts the baking goes smoothly enough, each member of the family finding their place on the assembly line. Dani is demoted again and again, until she confined to forming the loaves, saved from being relegated to clean-up by Cody, who volunteers just as Mrs. Neederlander is at her wits end.
"I'll clean up, Mrs. Neederlander. I'm good at washing dishes." Cody carefully does not say that he likes it. He doesn't, and his siblings would never let him live that down. "Dani can shape the loaves." They'll taste good no matter what they look like, he doesn't say.
But Mrs. Neederlander does. "Well, I suppose folks won't care if the Rider of Midwinter looks like he's had a seizure as long as the bread tastes good." Fortunately, bread dough isn't that far off from plastic explosives in the shaping department, and with a similar level effort and concentration, Dani does just fine.
Graham's engineering degree is put to work in the weights and measures department. After all, baking is just science for hungry people. Kade and Charlie find themselves putting their strength and stature into it, kneading the dough. The assembly line gets rolling full steam, not skipping a beat as its workers break for food and water. Hour upon hour, the family works together under Mrs. Neederlander's tutelage, producing sheet after sheet of fluffy honey loaves.
"Child," the old crone interrupts Kade with unusual gentleness. "I want you to help me resurrect one of the older traditions." She leads Kade to the far side of the oven, where she's set up a new workstation. "I've got the ingredients for a fortified loaf." When had she done that? None of them had noticed her gone, and certainly they hadn't been distracted long enough for her to go shopping. "This goes to the families with nursing babies."
Charlie takes over Kade's kneading. It's easily the most draining step in the process, more so now that the Chief has to do it alone, but it is thankfully simple. He watches his oldest son be bossed about by Mrs. Neederlander. The fireman is lost in concentration as he measures and mixes. A small contented smile appears as he kneads the whole-milled dough. He sets the sticky lump aside to rise and begins again, quietly reciting the recipe under Mrs. Neederlander's silent scrutiny.
Kade rests the second ball of dough as the old woman explains how to knead in dried cranberries, wild blueberries, and roasted crushed chestnuts. "The blueberries will dissolve as the bread bakes, leaving purple spots. That's why this is called Spotted Jolly Loaf." She has Kade plait the loaves, which he does with an easy twist. "Fortunately for us, it can be baked in the same oven as the traditional honey loaf."
--
When all is said and done, there are a few loaves left over.
"What should we do with these?" Charlie asks, waving a Spotted Jolly Loaf descriptively.
Mrs. Neederlander reaches up, breaking off the tip of the hot plait. "Enjoy them. You worked hard enough." She gestures to the clock and the sunset. They'd been at it for forty-six hours. Dani far longer than that. "Here child." The old woman schmears a large hunk of the hot bakery with maple butter.
Nearly asleep in a floury kitchen chair, Dani automatically takes a bite. Her eyes widen as she chews. "Oh. Wow." She devours the softball sized portion. "Kade, this is amazing."
Too exhausted to even contemplate preening, Kade glows quietly under the praise. "Thanks, sis," he mutters, almost shyly. The family tares into the dark loaf, happy groans of pleasure and exclamations of praise escaping full mouths. Apparently, Kade had gotten the talent for cooking the Dani lacked, in addition to his own share.
"Wait," Graham demands, reaching for the butter, "So you actually burn toast every morning on purpose?" He eyes Kade like his older brother really has lost his mind, or never had one to begin with.
"Bag bread is boring." Kade rubs his eyes. "You don't really think I can't figure out the toaster, do ya?" He makes a grab for Graham, intending to noogie out payment for the slight, but misses by a mile. Instead, Kade settles for a drink of water. Cody leans against his oldest brother, trapping the man against the counter until he hands over his glass.
"I don't know how to thank you, Mrs. Neederlander." Charlie sinks his fingers into his daughter's hair as she finally falls asleep sitting up. "Kade, will you put your sister to bed, please?" It isn't a question.
"Should he give her a bath, too?" Charlie smothers a laugh as the engineer needles his siblings, not that Dani could notice. Apparently, excellent baked goods make Graham mischievous. Or maybe that's the sleep deprivation talking.
Kade just shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time." He scoops his sister into his arms. "Up you go, princess." Dani cuddles into the sure embrace. Kade smiles softly down at her.
"Oh, I see how it is," Mrs. Neederlander snarks, the whole effect made strangely affectionate by her smile. The old crone likes Kade. How weird is that? "Well, take care of your sister." She shoos the fireman away. "This mess can wait for morning." The kitchen isn't quite the disaster area it had been upon her arrival, but it would still need a thorough scrubbing.
"Thanks, Mrs. Neederlander." Kade crouches awkwardly to kiss one elderly cheek over sleeping beauty in his arms. Straightening, Kade grins down at the former Rider of Midwinter. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to write those recipes down for me?"
"Already did." She waves her hand at a scrawl of indelible ink above the oven. "And it's Gladys, dear."
Kade laughs. He kisses Mrs. Neederlander's cheek again. "Goodnight, Gladys." He leaves the kitchen with his sister safely tucked against his chest.
"He's a good boy," Mrs. Neederlander says to his father.
"For you, maybe," Chief Burns rejoins with a smile.
"He just needs to feel needed." She waves his concern away. She'd been on this planet for over eighty years. Some things never change. "Now, I'd better be getting home to Mr. Pettypaws, before the snow gets any worse. He'll be in a right tizzy if I'm late with his dinner again."
"I still don't know how to thank you, but… Thank you." Charlie walks her to the door.
"Well, I wouldn't say no to a ride."
The snow had drifted around Mrs. Neederlander's car. "I think we can handle that. Chase?" The doors of the police car pop open. "We'll dig your car out tomorrow and drop it off."
"Just don’t be late for your other deliveries, sonny-boy!"
"Yes, ma'am," Charlie agrees, finding himself suddenly immune to the old woman's cawing.
"It's Gladys. Now drive!"