Page 36 of Cut The Cake

“That Friday, though,” she began again. “That Friday, somebody gave my dad tickets to a play. I remember being upset that we weren’t going to have our special night, but Mom promised there’d be other family nights. They left me with a babysitter and took the train into the city for dinner and the show. On the way home, their train derailed. They died in the crash.”

She fell silent for a moment, unable to keep from reliving the next morning, when she’d raced to answer a knock on the door and stared into the sad faces of two police officers. Her world had come crashing down around her that day. Though she knew one thing didn’t have anything to do with the other, she’d blamed the accident on her parents’ departure from the normal routine. Ever since, she’d worked extra hard to have a schedule and stick to it. She supposed that was at least part of the reason why she had such heartburn over Kay’s wedding—her cousin was constantly changing the plan.

Nick slipped his hand around hers and squeezed it. “Geez, Jenny. I had no idea. That had to be rough.”

Thankful for the warmth of his hand in hers, she shrugged. “It was. It would have been a lot worse if it hadn’t been for my Aunt Maggie and my cousin Kay. Aunt Maggie was my mom’s sister. She took me in, made sure I knew I’d always be taken care of and loved. Money was tight, but she encouraged me to go to college. I worked my way through school, but I got my degree. By then, Kay had, um, landed a big promotion and needed help keeping her life organized.” She awarded herself an imaginary medal for neatly failing to mention that the big promotion was actually the lead role in a major motion picture. “When Aunt Maggie asked if I could help, I couldn’t turn her down. It was my chance to pay back all their family had done for me.”

She’d grown tired of talking about herself, of walking the tightrope between truth and lie, by the time they reached the blanket Nick had spread over the soft, dry sand. Though she liked how his hand wrapped around hers, she extricated her fingers from his grasp and plopped down next to the picnic basket. Hoping he’d follow her lead, she folded her knees up under her and opened the lid. “Time for lunch?”

“Sounds good. What do we have in there?”

Her hand stilled on one of the plastic boxes when Nick leaned close enough to peer over her shoulder. Aware of his breath in her hair, she steeled herself. One by one, she pulled out boxes and held them up. “Looks like lobster rolls. Potato salad. Coleslaw. Cookies. And, wait.” She dug deep and came up with two glass bottles. “Ta-da! Blueberry soda.”

“All right!” Nick rubbed his hands together. “That’s what I call a lunch! Remind me to thank Marybeth. If I’d packed it, we’d be eating peanut butter sandwiches.”

“I wouldn’t mind, as long as you brought cupcakes for dessert.” Jenny’s lips lifted at the corners. When the tips of Nick’s ears turned pink, she decided his humility was one more factor in his favor.

Working together, they doled the food out onto paper plates. Soon they sat cross-legged facing the ocean, their plates balanced on their thighs.

Jenny bit into a soft roll loaded with plenty of fresh-steamed lobster and chopped celery drenched in mayonnaise. It was good—wonderful, in fact—but it still didn’t hold a candle to Nick’s cupcakes. Not even the lemon one he’d brought her last night. Curious as to how such a talented baker had ended up running a bakery in this particular small town, she swallowed and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.

“So Nick,” she said, waiting until he’d swigged a gulp of his soda. “Now that you know my story, how about you? What led you to become a baker?”

Nick buried his bottle of pop up to the label in the sand. “My dad worked for a bread company, one of those huge, industrial places where they churned out thousands of identical loaves each day. To hear him tell the story, the job paid the rent but the work wasn’t exactly fulfilling. Dad had always talked of starting his own business. He saw his chance when the owners sold the bread company and laid everyone off. I was four when he moved us here from Virginia. He opened I Do Cakes before I started first grade. I could barely peep over the counter when I began working in the bakery alongside him. Some people might say that flour is in my blood.”

She closed her eyes, smiling at the image of a dark-haired little boy stealing bites of dough as, beside him, an older, burlier version of Nick shaped and cut out cookies. “Where is he now, your dad?”

Instead of answering, he tore a piece of bread from his roll and tossed it into the sand. Within seconds, a seagull swept down and scooped it up. After the bird flew off, Nick’s words came slowly. “He had his first heart attack eleven years ago. I was in Paris. I’d finally worked my way up to head patissier in a five-star restaurant. None of that mattered once I got the news. I flew home immediately and took over the bakery while he was in the hospital. At first, I thought it’d only be for a little while. It didn’t take long before I realized Dad wasn’t coming back to work. So I stayed on. It’s a choice I’ve never regretted.”

Afraid she knew the answer but determined to learn more about the man who’d been so kind to her, she asked, “And your dad?”

“Gone now. About six months after that first heart attack, he had another one. That time, he didn’t make it.” His chest expanded, stretching his T-shirt. Slowly, his shoulders rounded. “I’ve always been grateful for the extra time we had together. When I get right down to it, though, it didn’t make his passing any easier.”

Jenny fell silent. She’d often wished she’d had time to prepare, to say goodbye to her folks. But would it have made any difference in the end? From what Nick had said, it might not have. She cleared her throat. “And your mom?” she asked, her voice barely strong enough to carry above the waves slapping on the shore.

“Florida.” Nick took a bite from his sandwich and chewed. “She moved to a retirement community down there. She golfs and plays bingo nearly every day. We talk on the phone Sunday evenings. Twice a year, I either fly down for a visit or she comes up here. My sister has two children—a girl and a boy. They live here in Heart’s Landing, too.”

They sat in silence for a while, eating and tossing out an occasional scrap to the birds. At last, Nick stretched out his long legs and leaned back on his elbows. With his ankles crossed, he pinned her with a look.

“Yes?” she asked. Uncomfortable beneath his pointed stare, she braced herself.

“You don’t talk about your fiancé as much as most brides.”

A statement, not a question. The observation had seemed to come from nowhere. Not certain what point Nick was trying to make, she tipped her head. “There’s not much to tell. Bob’s a great guy with a job that keeps him pretty busy.”

“That’s it—a great guy, huh?” Nick tossed the last bite of a cookie at a flock of gray-colored shorebirds that pecked for tasty tidbits in the sand. “From what you said, you have a demanding job, too. One that requires you to be available around the clock. How’s that going to work after you’re married? Are you going to quit? Do something else?”

Phooey.

She should have stuck to the story Kay had scripted for her. If she had, she and Nick wouldn’t be having this conversation. But it had been her idea to tell him the truth, or as much of it as she’d dared. Thanks to that, though, she’d painted herself into a corner.

She studied the waves washing ashore while she tried to figure a way out. In for a penny, in for a pound, she decided at last. Telling Nick the truth had gotten her into this mess. Telling him more of it might just get her out. “Funny you should ask,” she said, laughing at her own mistake. “For someone who’s addicted to having a plan, I’ve been so focused on the wedding that I never thought much beyond it. I’m not sure what’ll happen after the honeymoon.” That much was true. There were bound to be changes once Karolyn and Chad were married.

“Maybe you should. Think about it, that is. Figure out what you really want out of life.” Nick pitched a shell into the sand.

Jenny leaned back on her palms, her elbows locked. Did she dare tell Nick her grand plan for the future? Realizing how much she wanted to confide in him, how much she trusted him, she took a deep, shuddery breath. “You’re right—I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to work for Kay. Sooner or later, it’ll be time to move on. When that happens, I’ve always thought I’d like to start my own event-planning business. That’s the one part about my job I really enjoy—pulling together the perfect birthday party, organizing a special anniversary dinner, arranging a surprise celebration.”

She’d never mentioned her dream to another soul and felt a nervous shiver run through her. She wouldn’t blame Nick for thinking hers was the most ridiculous idea he’d ever heard. After all, everyone in Heart’s Landing considered her to be a bride who waffled over every decision. If the word got out that she wanted to plan parties for a living, Mildred and Alicia would think she’d lost her mind. Nick probably did, too.

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