There were so many smells.

The oven dinged. That meant the mini carrotcakes were done, always a hit with the kids.

Nick neatly rolled up the sleeves of his padded, red and orange plaid shirt (which he had borrowed from Judy's dad) and put on some mitts he'd left by the stove. He opened the oven door, letting heat billow outward, pummeling him in the face; he ignored it and pushed through, reaching for the metal cake pans, and pulled out both of them.

Expertly shutting the door using his furry foot, he then set the pans evenly on the yellow marble countertop.

The sun was pouring through every window, lighting up the sizable kitchen with a hopeful, afternoon glow, and Judy's mom, Bonnie, was working beside Nick at the sink, straining various vegetables under running water. The fox stood a full head and shoulders over her, nearly double her height; he was actually the tallest mammal on the whole Hopps carrot farm.

He reached for the cupboards over her head and looked inside them, searching, carefully standing just out of her way.

"Sorry, Mom," he said, arms outstretched. "But you wouldn't happen to know where the icing is, would you?"

Bonnie looked around, perplexed. "Um, try that one," she pointed with her drenched paw to another cabinet. "Nicky, if you need more, we could always pick it up later or just make some at home."

"That would take too long," he said. "The little ones haven't stopped bugging me since we got here. And they're getting anxious. Speaking of which—" he placed his paw on her shoulder, catching her attention, "— how's that blueberry pie coming along?"

"The pie?" she asked inquisitively, seeing his playful grin. Her puzzlement quickly morphed into terror. She gasped, "Oh no, the Son-in-law pie!" Bonnie panicked, haphazardly turning off the faucet. "I almost forgot! It won't be done in time! Nicky, I'm so sorry—"

"Woah — woah!" Nick attempted to calm the rabbit down. "Mom, don't worry about it. I was just joking, you should know that by now. We got bigger potatoes to fry anyway."

They both glanced to the barrel full of potatoes sitting next to the fridge, which was probably not the healthiest thing for rabbits to be eating.

"I know," she said, grabbing a towel from beside the sink to wipe her paws. "You're right, worry about that later — can't lose focus now. Judy and her father will have a cow if we don't finish by six, and so will the kids."

"No, they won't," he shook his head.

It was his turn to use the sink; he rolled up his thick, fall-colored sleeves even further than before and turned the faucet back on. "We've got nothing but time anyway," he noted. He removed Bonnie's strained vegetables, shaking them out, and plopped them on the counter, then washed his paws under the warm water, also rinsing his silvery wedding ring.

"You don't know them like I do," Bonnie said, taking a vegetable peeler out of a nearby drawer.

They both went to work; Nick found a long cutting knife and a cutting board, and began dicing up carrots, squashes, and a handful of potatoes, which Bonnie had begun deftly unwrapping just a few feet away. Most of them she placed back in the barrel. A few minutes were spent between them diligently working rather than talking, but Bonnie finally piped up.

"I'm sorry I haven't started the pie yet," she said, almost lamenting Nick's loss. "I have thirty-eight son-in-laws, and of course I forget to make my favorite one's pie."

"Don't worry about it," he assured her again. "I won't go savage on anyone like last time. I promise."

They both comfortably chuckled.

"I could only imagine the look on your face," Bonnie started; Nick's ears perked up as he continued slicing, "—when she told you about the fox repellant, I mean."

"Oh, yeah." Nick smiled at her while cutting into a yellow squash. "She told me that story right before I met you guys for the first time, and I won't lie to you. I was a little nervous."

Bonnie continued peeling, getting some moisture from the potatoes on her blue apron. "We were too," she admitted, "... but, I could tell at dinner. You were shivering the whole time, we thought you were going to have a heart attack or something, you poor dear. But now you're just another member of our big, happy bunch."

"I'll say," Nick agreed. "Talk about a big family, biggest I've ever seen, and I stick out like a purple elephant, being the only one who's not a bunny. That New Year's party you guys threw — crazy! I've never seen so many rabbits in my entire life." He took a pawful of carrots and cut off the ends and tips, moving onto another bunch, and then another bunch, and then another.

Something suddenly cracked behind them, a door slamming, and they both turned. It was the screened front door, and there was also a familiar voice approaching from the other room.

"So you'll be here by six?" inquired Judy, unceremoniously entering the kitchen; her cellphone was pressed firmly to her drooped ear and Nick sensed a trace of anxiety in her voice. The lower brims of her jeans had flakes of dirt clinging to them. "Okay, yes, that's fine," she said, nodding.

Judy was also carrying a green book, which Nick immediately recognized.

He and Bonnie exchanged shocked glances, stopping what they were doing.

Judy stepped flatly towards the fox, who had quietly set the knife down on the counter. "You need my info again?" she asked aloud, sounding annoyed with whoever was on the other end. "Alright, it's W-I-L-D-E, Judy Wilde, or the reservation may be under the name Hopps, which would be my parents. I forget which one we used."

As she approached Nick, her purple eyes found those of her husband's. Without putting the phone down, she tugged on his shirt and wordlessly pecked her fox on the lips, acknowledging him, to which he happily reciprocated. Their kiss was brief and she silently gave him the book. Judy then moved on to her mother to give her a hug.

"Yep, that's us," she said into the phone, looking between her mom and Nick. She made strange gestures with her paws as if to emphasize her voice.

"Great, so everything's taken care of?

...

Awesome! Great, thanks again."

Relieved, she finally put her phone into her pants pocket, although her paws went to massaging her temples. Something was plaguing her mind.

"Uh, Carrots, why do you have her book?" Nick asked pointedly, holding it up.

Her mom seemed equally concerned, wiping her apron in broad streaks. "Judy, do you want to tell us what's wrong?"

Judy then placed her paws on her hips, standing akimbo, only shaking her head at her husband.

"I need you to find our daughter, Nick, because I can't," she admitted, half-frowning. "I've looked all over the farm and it's like she just up and vanished. She's gone. Jim took her book and —"

"— Jim did what?" Nick sharply interrupted.

"Oh no," murmured Bonnie. "Judy, I'm sure he was just being a boy. There isn't a bad bone in that bunny's body."

"Yeah, I know," Judy nodded bluntly at her mother. "But this isn't the first time, mom. He should have known better."

Nick was almost fuming, towering over her. "Let me go talk to him, Judy."

"That's not necessary, you'll only scare him," she brushed off that thought, eyes locked with him, completely unafraid of her husband. "Please find our daughter, Nick. You're both foxes. Maybe you know something I don't, something that will help you look for her. Do you think you could smell her out?"

Nick peered down at the book, inspecting it, turning it over in his ruddy paws. "I could try," he muttered, shrugging his shoulders. And after a moment, he motioned for the doorway with his bushy tail and his daughter's book in tow. "I'll go find her, Carrots."

"Nick," said Judy; the fox paused before leaving, ears at attention. He knew that tone. "If you see Jim, don't be too harsh with him. I already was, and the last thing he needs right now is for us to gang up on him."

Their eyes met fleetingly, and he offered only a confident smile to his wife. Then, like a ghost, he moved to the next room and out the screened door, out into the afternoon sun. Out into the wide fields of the farm.

Bonnie silently came to her side, wiping her paws again with a rag before handing it over to her daughter. "I wouldn't worry too much, sweetheart," she said. "You married a good one."

"I know." Judy accepted the rag and casually approached the sink; her mother simply watched and waited. She ran some water, which was cold, and cleaned whatever was on her paws using the cloth and some soap. After a thorough rinse, she shut off the faucet and took up the knife Nick had been using. "That's the thing, mom. With him around, I don't worry as much. That's why we make such great partners."

"Great parents, too," her mom added.

"Yeah," Judy admitted with a sigh, grinning to herself. She started chopping, looking to finish what Nick was already in the middle of doing. "We try, mom."

Her mother obnoxiously rolled her eyes, which Judy never saw, and then went back to silently helping.

xXx