Page 18 of A Small Town Spring

It’s only after he leaves, having reminded me about Easter brunch at his and Ivy’s house tomorrow, that I realize I impulsively named the car after another hot British guy I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on.I hope Toby doesn’t notice the parallel.

Eight

I’m seeminglythe last to arrive at Ivy and Toby’s for brunch.Jack and Pete are there, as are Van and Beck.Dulcie, an instructor at the Art Center, and her girlfriend, a musician whose name I can never remember, are here, too.Luna the cat, indifferent to the strangers coming and going from the kitchen, sits in a patch of sun smack in the middle of the floor, forcing everyone to move around her.There’s an impressive array of food on the kitchen table where we ate sandwiches two weeks ago, and people are standing around talking, not quite having dived into the food yet.Ivy’s in the kitchen, pouring thimblefuls of orange juice into champagne glasses full of bubbly to create the merest suggestion of mimosas.

When Toby sees me, his face lights up and he pulls me into a one-armed hug, slapping my back, and I catch a whiff of detergent smell from his collared shirt.

I don’t memorize how the hug feels and push a bottle of red into his hands.“Thanks for including me.”Now I’ve done my duty as a good guest and can duck out if I have to.

“Well, thanks for this.”He glances at the bottle’s label.“Would you like me to open it?”

It’s a little early for a full-bodied pinot.The bottle I brought is more suited to an intimate supper in a room with dark lighting.Toby’s face would still light up the darkest room.“A mimosa is fine for me,” I say, nodding at his girlfriend.Hisgirlfriend.God.I’ve got to stop this hopeless mooning.

“Ivy, Kingston will have what you’re making,” Toby calls over to her.

“Coming right up,” she calls back.

“We’re about to eat.We set up a couple of tables in the backyard since we don’t really have room in the house for everyone to sit,” Toby says.“By the way, I went through the photos last night and I think I got some good stuff.I’m really excited to start working on your cottage.”

I pull my head out of my fantasies and into the present.“That’s wonderful.How long do you think until…” I trail off when it occurs to me it’s probably rude to ask when it will be finished.

Toby doesn’t seem bothered.“That I don’t know.At least a month, with some other things I have going on.Is that okay?”

“Of course.Take all the time you need.”

A few minutes later, after a flurry of filling plates and refilling glasses, Ivy taps a fork to the side of her champagne flute.“I have an announcement to make.Pete, persistent soul that he is, has persuaded me to take a seat on the Rosedale Art Center board at the start of their fiscal year.June, is it?”

Pete nods, grinning broadly.I’m proud of him for pulling it off.

“And, in a completely unrelated coincidence, I will be mounting a show at the Childress Gallery in Queens this fall,” Ivy says, smiling wider than I’ve ever seen her.

Congratulations abound from the guests.Toby leans over and gives Ivy a kiss on the cheek.She graciously accepts the words of praise while I pretend Toby’s casually intimate gesture doesn’t sour the champagne in my mouth.

“Now, find a spot to eat.There should be enough chairs for everyone, but if there aren’t, you’ll figure it out,” Ivy says.

I top up my champagne with a liberal pour and don’t bother to add more orange juice, thankful that today being a holiday gives me a reason to drink more than usual before noon.I don’t regularly drink to excess, but getting buzzed might be the only way to survive this shindig.I’m the last to head outside, where I’m confronted by the sight of eight people split between two tables, four neat and tidy couples.I’m the only single one in the group and I feel like the sad uncle who’s been invited out of obligation.

The self-pitying is not like me and lasts about ten seconds before I snap myself out of it and drop into the last empty chair, which happens to be between Beck and Toby.

“Beck, you really outdid yourself with the Easter egg cookies,” I say.“It took all of my self-control not to fill my plate with those.”Beck adapts his sugar cookie recipe for holidays and special events, making them into different shapes with intricate icing designs.His Easter eggs are large ovals with tie-dye-inspired icing in beautifully psychedelic colors and patterns.Tiny works of art in themselves.

“I confess I already stole one,” Toby says sheepishly.“I have a weakness for sugar cookies.”

“So do I.We’ve had a really busy couple of weeks in the shop with the spring holidays.Can you guess how many of these we made at the shop this week alone?”Beck asks proudly.

“Two thousand,” I say.

“Four thousand,” Toby guesses.

“Ten thousand,” Beck says, clearly overjoyed to best us.“We had two big wholesale orders, and I had the ovens going practically twenty-four hours a day.If these wholesale orders keep up, I might have to expand into a larger commercial kitchen space.”

“That’s amazing,” Toby says.“You’ve built this business so quickly.Your cookie shop wasn’t open when we moved here.”

“That’s the community really supporting us,” Beck says.“Rosedale is such a special place.”

“That I agree with,” Toby says.“I’ve lived in cities most of my life, but they might be ruined for me after experiencing Rosedale.Small town living is like being able to take a full breath.”

Beck grins at him.“I couldn’t agree more.Thank goodness Jack and Pete ended up here.”

---