“Sure. Need any help?”
“No, I’ve got it. Whew, I forgot how dirty little girls could get.”
“Worse than boys?”
“Always.”
As the bathroom door shut, I ran up the stairs to my old bedroom. I was sure I still had a few shirts from high school stuffed in the dresser drawers. In the top one, my eyes landed on a few of my dance competition shirts. I knew they were small enough for the girls to wear as dresses. I got these before I hit puberty, after which none of my dancing outfits fit my developing body.
Downstairs, I knocked on the door and handed the shirts over to Mom. She eyed them, silently asking if I was sure. What the hell was I going to do with some ancient, child-size shirts?
Ten minutes later, both girls skidded into the kitchen, where I rested against the counter, scrolling through my phone. The shirts hit their knees, and it was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.
Once the cakes cooled, I let the girls help me with the crumb coat like they had the other day.
“Can I help?” my mother asked from behind me. I immediately handed her my spatula and watched the three of them work. “I’ve never done a special cake like this before. Most of my creations barely made it out of the pan before y’all devoured it.”
“True. Sometimes it’s nice to learn new things.”
As she spread a thin layer of the buttercream around the two-tiered cake, she glanced over at me once, then asked, “So, how are things with you and Nathaniel?”
I stole a glimpse at the girls. They were far too interested in the task at hand to pay attention to the conversation. Did I want to disclose the details of my sort-of relationship with Nate to my mom? I wasn’t even 100 percent sure what we were doing, other than exploring a sensual side of our attraction.
“Things are fine, Mom. He’s a really nice guy.”
“You know, he sent me those flowers on the table by the front door. Like I told you before, you should snatch that up before he’s taken.”
“Mom, please.”
“Fine, don’t listen to me. I just think it’s interesting how invested he is in your cake shop.”
“What do you mean?”
“It seems he jumped at the chance to tour the potential flagship with you. I would have thought maybe Tami or even me, your dad, or sisters would have been the ones you’d ask.”
“I didn’t ask. He invited himself.”
She smiled in a way I’d swear the corners of her mouth curled up in mischief. “Exactly my point.”
“Did you want to come?”
“Nope. I’ll be there for the walkthrough when you buy the place.”
“I’m confused,” I confessed as I swapped out the girls’ cakes and buttercream for different flavors.
“He invited himself, because he cares about you, Alex.”
“Geez, Mom. I’ve known him for a little over a week.”
“Pssh, time means nothing. When you know, you know. After the devastating death of my first husband, I never thought I’d love again. Then I met your father, and we were married six months later.”
We all knew the story about Mom’s high school sweetheart and how he died at war. Andrew was their only child. Mom moved to Ashfield to be closer to her grandmother when she met my dad. It was a whirlwind romance. A story for the ages.
“Just because it happened for you doesn’t mean it happens for everyone else.”
“It happened for Autumn.”
As my irritation grew, I considered taking my personal spatula back from her. “Is there a point to all this?”
