Page 14 of Courage, Dear Heart

I give Angela the oversized flower arrangement. She takes it, but her eyes flit back to Elliott as he steps back and opens the door for them.

Mrs. Smith stops in front of him and taps his arm. “Oh, thank you. What a good lad you are.” She pats his arm again, but this time it’s more intentional. She squeezes his bicep, feeling him up.

Her eyes widen. “Oh my, you’re so strong.”

I press my lips together to holdback a laugh.

With one last look at me and a wink, she leaves with Angela on her heels.

Elliott lets go of the door, and it closes with a chime of the bells above it.

And then it’s just the two of us. Heat climbs up my chest and into my cheeks. My face burns. Why is he back? It’s been a few days since he sent the cupcakes. I didn’t expect to see him again.

He approaches me with slow and deliberate movements as if afraid of my reaction. I push down the sudden surge of nervous energy churning my insides and force my mouth to smile and hope I don’t look as awkward as I feel.

“Hi.” His voice is soft, soothing.

“Hi.” My voice comes out husky as if from disuse.

For a long moment, we look at each other.

“I’m sorry?—”

“Thank you?—”

We speak at the same time. An awkward laugh follows our failed attempt at communication. It’s like I’m fourteen again and a cute boy is talking to me. As soon as the thought enters my head, guilt rears its ugly little head. I want to fold under its weight. But I heed Sheila’s words and my promise to her earlier this week. I shove guilt off my shoulders, standing tall and straight. I stomp on it for good measure. Push the guilt far down into the recesses of my mind and then close the door on it.Stay, I order.

I gesture to him. “You first.”

He gestures back. “No, ladies first.”

I take a deep breath, fill my lungs, quiet the scattered thoughts in my head. “I want to thank you. For the cupcakes. It was thoughtful of you to send them.”

“I hope they were good.”

“They were delicious. Jamie loved them. He inhaled more than half and then asked for more.” I smile as an image of Jamie’s face covered in icing pops into my mind.

“Tell Jamie there’s plenty more where they came from.”

“Oh, no.” My hand comes up. “I didn’t mean it like that. Thank you. I told Jamie we could bake some cupcakes together.”

“That sounds fun. Is he excited about it?”

I grimace. “Not at all. He outright rejected the idea. I’m not a very good baker. My skills lie elsewhere.” I gesture at the flowers all around us. “Thank you for sending them, though. You didn’t have to.”

“I did. I was insensitive, and I hurt your feelings. And I’m sorry for that.”

I shake my head. “You had no way of knowing.”

“Still. I’m sorry. And I want to make it up to you and Jamie.” His lips twitch as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.

I scrunch my eyes. Immediately, my mother’s voice pops into my head, telling me my face would stick like that, and I force myself to smooth my frown. “I don’t understand. Make it up to me how?”

“I know how you can improve your baking skills and save Jamie from ever having to endure another bad cupcake.” He smiles freely now.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Do you have magical powers, then? Because everything I bake could double as a door stopper.”

He laughs. “I don’t have any magical powers, at least not baking ones, but I do know someone who does.”

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