Page 13 of Desserts for Stressed People

I suck at my finger and grab the box of sweets, moving toward the bedroom. I could watch the movie on the couch, but it’d feel too close to what Alex and I have done plenty of times, and right now, I don’t want to be reminded of him.

And with the same spirit of denial, I refuse to focus on the fact that Shane will never bake for me. But it creeps back into my mind as I pull the covers over my legs and catch sight of Marty talking to Jennifer on the TV.

‌I need to give myself a limit. A deadline. That way, I’ll know I can indulge in my fantasy for a while, and then I’ll go back to my very real problems and my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.No more Shane.

Just for tonight. Tonight, I’ll text with a handsome guy who wants to bake brownies for me. Tomorrow, it’s done. It’s over. I’ll never think of Shane H. again.

Nevaeh:

Yours look much better than mine. I’ll have to get the recipe.

Shane:

This is one of the best scenes. And I’m not just changing the topic because my recipes will die with me.

I’m increasingly convinced he’s a baker, but I don’t ask. The less I find out, the more the fantasy can endure. If I ask, he might say he’s a divorce lawyer or an insurer, and I don’t need another failed expectation. So, I decide Shane is a baker who works somewhere in the city center, in that part of town I hardly visit, where there are vintage boutiques and cute little bakeries.

Nevaeh:

Keep your secrets then. You’ll never guess my favorite scene.

Shane:

You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.

Nevaeh:

You’ll know mine only if I get that recipe.

Shane:

You’ll get the recipe if you give me your number.

I gasp and stare at the screen, my stomach twisting with something new that I struggle to recognize. Especially because it doesn’t last long enough. Shane-the-baker wants my number, and I can’t give it to him. If I do, he’ll call or text. He’ll have a way to contact me after tonight. And tonight is all I’m giving us.

Anxiety digs a hole through my thorax as the movie plays in the background, until my phone vibrates with an incoming message.

Shane:

Is it when he creates the skateboard?

My belly settles a little, heat flooding back to my cheeks.

Nevaeh:

No. When they send Einstein to the future.

Shane:

Damn. Of course. That’s a classic.

Nevaeh:

Yours?

Shane:

When he creates rock’ n roll. We owe him a great deal of debt.

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