Page 82 of Meet Me at the Fudge Shop

“Tell me what to do,” Isaac said, washing his hands.

“There’s something I don’t hear every day.” Declan stepped up to the sink and scrubbed.

“Haha, funny man.” Isaac dried his hands and passed the towel off to Declan. “Seriously, though. I know I was a jerk last week, but I’m here to do everything I can to help out. To give you that edge.”

It wasn’t exactly an apology, but it was probably as close to peacemaking as they were going to get. And it would all go much more quickly with a partner. If it couldn’t be Lily, then maybe Isaac would do. “All right. I need to make a few more batches of fudge and box up what I’ve already made.”

Declan flicked on an old radio in the corner and, while classic rock filled the kitchen, together, they set to work. Pulling the ingredients, heating the copper pot, and creating fudge—the Kelley recipes, but made the Hart way, exactly as Lily had taught him. Isaac didn’t need to know that, of course.

They’d made some good progress when Declan snatched a few water bottles from the fridge and tossed one to his brother. “Thanks for your help. This is actually coming along well.”

“You sound surprised.” Amusement clear on his face, Isaac popped open the water and took a swig.

“I mean, you’re not always the most diligent worker.” Declan tried to add teasing to his voice, but maybe there was too much truth to it for it to really be considered a joke.

Thankfully, Isaac laughed. “That’s fair. I just gotta have the right motivation, I guess.”

“And bussing tables at Mom’s restaurant isn’t enough motivation?”

“Nah, that place will sink or swim with or without me.” Isaac downed the rest of his water, smashing the plastic down onto the countertop before tossing the compressed bottle into the trash. “But you…this place…you need me.”

“Do I, though?”

Isaac gestured toward the fudge they’d piled up in the middle of the three tables—sixty pounds of new candy, nearly ready to be cut and boxed. “Think you could have done all this so quickly by yourself?”

“All right, sure. You’ve been helpful.”

Isaac nodded and pulled another piece of gum from his pocket. “Look, I know we haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but I care about the family as much as you do.” His fingers worked to unwrap the yellow gum. “I want to see the family succeed. And your success here, it matters. Not just for Grandma, but for the family legacy.”

“I know. It’s a lot of pressure, though.” Declan’s eyes flicked toward Isaac. What would his brother think of his confession? “So your help really does mean something.”

“Not that Mom and Dad will ever see it. But that’s okay. As long as Grandma gets her house.” Shrugging, Isaac moved for the slicer, but Declan held up a hand to stop him.

“Now, wait. Seriously. I’ll be sure to tell Mom and Dad how great you’re doing here.” Because maybe his brother really did want to change. Maybe he just needed someone to believe in him, the way Lily had believed in Declan. “You’ve got a lot of talent—way too much to waste. Maybe if we win, you can come work here.”

Isaac raised an eyebrow. “You’d want me to head up the fudge shop when you go back to Chicago?”

Declan cleared his throat. “Well?—”

“Ah, I see. You might not be going back to Chicago, now, huh?” Looking away, his much-too-perceptive brother started slicing fudge.

“I’m not sure what I’m planning to do.” Declan grabbed a handful of boxes Lily had left unassembled on the counter and started popping them open. “But yeah, I don’t know. Maybe, if I win this competition, you could split your time between Martha’s on Main and the fudge shop. If you wanted to.” It was a huge olive branch, and one Declan wasn’t sure he should offer. But this was his brother. He was family. “You’ve got what it takes. And yeah, maybe you’ll fall like I did, but maybe you’ll learn from my mistakes too.”

“Oh, I have.” Isaac rolled his eyes, the twitch of a smile on his face. But it wasn’t a sneer—it was almost like camaraderie. When was the last time his brother had actually felt like a friend? Probably not since grade school. The six-year gap between them had started to feel so wide then. But now? If Declan stayed, maybe this was yet another relationship he could work on mending. “And there have been a lot.”

“I know, right? But I’m serious, man. Think about it.”

“Aw, now you’re just going soft on me. What happened to the big brother who was ready to pummel me at dinner last week?”

“He’s still here in case you step out of line again, because you deserved that.”

“Yeah, guess I did. I should know better than to insult your girl.”

Maybe his brother said it to rile Declan, but the truth was, Lilywashis girl—and tomorrow, he’d be declaring it to his family. What did telling Isaac one day early matter? “Yes, you should.”

Instead of some smart remark, Isaac just kept slicing fudge, chomping away at his gum. They settled into a rhythm, working to box up the fudge while Bon Jovi sang about livin’ on a prayer.

Finally, Isaac looked up at him. “You saidifwe win. Do you think we will?” He set the slicer down, leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. “Do you think Grandma is going to lose her house? And are we really going to lose this shop to the Harts? No disrespect to your girl, but that would be really embarrassing for the family legacy.”

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