Page 22 of Courage, Dear Heart

Jamie giggles in silence, his little shoulders shaking with mirth when he looks at me, his eyes dancing. He taps the book and I turn the page.

“The bully cried and cried, and everyone on the playground turned to look. From that day on, the bully didn’t bother anyone again. And as for CJ and the girl in the purple dress? They became the best of friends. Because that’s what happens when you listen to your heart.”

I ruffle his hair. “Do you want to keep going?”

He shakes his head.

I kiss the top of his head again, get up, and tuck the covers around him. “Good night, Jamie. I love you.”

I turn off the light and exit his room, leaving the door ajar. My heart breaks all over again as my child quietly goes to sleep.

TEN

Jillian

I pressthe phone closer to my ear to block the traffic sounds around us. “Sheila? We’re here. I have five minutes before I have to go in. I can’t believe I’ll be learning how to make cupcakes from the best baker in Manhattan.”

Jamie tugs at my hand and points to a toy store window. I nod and walk to the store with him. He lets go and presses his little hands around his face to peer through the glass.

“You better take notes and then teach me,” Sheila says.

“I’m nervous. I’m going to make a fool of myself. I know it. I’m going to ruin the best cupcakes in town, and then she’ll sue me.”

Sheila laughs. “You’ll be fine.”

“Says the supposed best friend, laughing at me.”

“Bring some back home for me.”

“I will—oh my God.” Elliott is walking toward me. He moves like he owns the street. Hands in his pockets and not a care in the world. Casual and confident. The totalopposite of me.

“What?”

“He’s here. Elliott is here. I thought it would be only me and his sister.”

“Told you he’d be there. This is getting better and better.”

“Okay, gotta go. Talk later. Bye.” I hang up before she has a chance to reply and shove the phone in my back pocket. Something stirs within me—a flicker of an emotion I thought I’d lost forever.

He’s dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt that hugs his chest and stomach in all the right places. His arms are muscular but not overly huge. I can’t take my eyes away from him. His easy smile prompts mine. Am I happy to see him? I am.

“Hey there, you’re here.” He sounds almost surprised as if he didn’t expect me to show up. He holds a fist out to Jamie, who bumps it without hesitation.

“Yes, we are. You promised us cupcakes. How could we say no to that?” I squeeze my son’s shoulder. “Right, Jamie?”

When I look back at Elliott, I find his gaze searching my face, and the words I was about to say dissolve in my mouth. My stomach warms and tightens in response to his scrutiny. Being the object of his attention unravels something in me, something hidden and forgotten and unnamed.

He holds the door ajar for us. “You two ready to go in?”

I clear my throat, swallow. “Yes, we are.” I squeeze my son’s hand. “Are you ready to bake some cupcakes, Jamie?”

He nods with vigor, his hair flopping on his forehead—a huge grin on his face, the kind of smile he used to give freely—I haven’t seen this smile in a long time. Guilt punches me in the gut. I look up and away. I don’t want Jamie to see me get emotional over his joy. My burden has become hisburden, and his shoulders are far too small to carry the weight of it all.

Elliott looks at me with no judgment. I find comfort in his kind expression, and that early ember ignites inside of me again. He pulls the door wide open even though the sign on it says closed after three on Sundays. We walk through and he locks the door behind us.

A squeal comes from somewhere in the back of the bakery, and a petite woman with her hair in a bun and wearing a pink T-shirt with the bakery logo comes running and throws herself at Elliott. He catches her at mid-leap with a chuckle. The woman dangles, arms wrapped around his neck. Elliott kisses her on both cheeks and settles her on the floor.

“Jillian, this is my sister Sabrina, the best baker in town.”

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