Page 5 of Careless Hope
“Caroline Cressley, as I live and breathe!” Sutton Turner burst into the room like a summer storm, her voice carrying the same comforting familiarity as the worn leather seats and the old town photos lining the walls. Her chestnut brown hair was tied back in a practical ponytail, a few strands rebelling around her gray eyes that sparkled with mischief.
Sutton was synonymous with Whittier Falls in my mind. Not just because she was my best friend growing up, though I’m sure that had something to do with it. She simply epitomized this town. Strong. Caring. Always rooted, always warm.
“Congratulations on the new gig, Doc,” she said, slipping around the counter to envelop me in an embrace that smelled like s’mores—the signature scent of Campfire Bakery.
“Thanks, Sutton.” I returned her hug, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease just a tad.
“I’m thrilled for you. The prodigal daughter takes up the mantle,” she teased, pulling away to look at me with genuine fondness.
I chuckled, though the title felt heavy on my shoulders. “Yeah, something like that. How’s the bakery treating you?”
“Busy as ever.” She shrugged, but her eyes lit up with pride. “Turns out people can’t get enough of my peach cobbler cupcakes. I’m so sorry we haven’t gotten to catch up much. That trip up north near killed me.”
I waved her apology off with a flick of my hand. Sutton was busy, and it was a wonderful thing. She’d gotten a huge contract to cater a weeklong wedding celebration up at one of the fancy resorts in the mountains. She’d had to travel up there a week early to prep for the whole thing and only got back a few days ago.
I still didn’t know how she did it all by herself, relying on a couple of part time employees to keep the bakery open while she was gone. The townsfolk almost staged a mutiny when they’d had to open late each weekday on account of still being in high school.
“What about you?” she asked. “Settling back in okay?”
“Sort of,” I admitted, leaning against the counter. I hesitated, then let out a slow breath, deciding to confide in her. “It’s been . . . challenging, honestly. It seems no one’s quite ready to see me as anything other than Dr. Cressley’s little girl, still doodling in her notebooks.”
“Ah, they’ll come around,” she waved a hand dismissively, but her furrowed brow told me she understood the depth of my frustration. “You know how folks are around here. Tradition weighs more than a prize bull at the county fair. But give them time, Caroline. They’re just not used to change is all.”
“Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me,” I said, straightening up. The resolve from earlier began to flare back to life, fanned by Sutton’s confidence in me. “And I’m not just talking about convincing old Mr. Lawry that I’m perfectly capable of treating his . . . Well, you know.”
We both laughed, the sound of it echoing off the walls and filing away some of the sharp edges of my doubt. “You’ve always been good at beating the odds,” Sutton reminded me. “Remember when you won the science fair three years running?”
“Only because you helped me rig that volcano,” I pointed out, and we shared another chuckle.
“Damn straight. Teamwork makes the dream work.” She winked, then eyed me curiously. “But you sure that’s all it is? I can’t imagine it was easy to leave the big city and come back here.”
“Surprisingly, that was the easy part.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah. I liked Chicago, don’t get me wrong. But all I did was work. I didn’t realize it, but looking back now, I’m afraid I haven’t had much of a life since . . . well, since I was a kid, I guess.”
Sutton reached out and squeezed my hand, knowing my history, the expectations my parents had for me and the effort I’d put in to succeed since I was a teen. She’d always wanted me to “live a little” back then. How sad to think I never listened?
That needed to change.
“Well, you’re here now. And you are settling into a new role, one that’s probably a lot more chill than working an ER in Chicago. So I think this will be your time, Car. We’re gonna make sure you start living.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
I smiled back. “Thanks, Sutton,” I said, feeling grateful, and a bit more fortified. “I appreciate it.”
“Always. You’re home now.”
“I am.” The thought was surprisingly comforting, not anxiety-inducing like it was leading up to the move.
“Now, what can I get you to eat? On the house.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t?—”
She held up a hand. “Ah, I insist. My best friend gets at least one free treat per week.”
Best friend, present tense. My heart warmed. I didn’t realize how lonely I’d truly been until now.
“Well, if you insist . . . that carrot cake looks amazing.”
