Page 15 of Love and Other Penalties
I roll my eyes as I stretch my neck and look over my shoulder. Mae’s weapon is probably one of the umbrellas we keep beside the front entrance.
“It’s me,” I call, returning to the cupcake in my hands.
They appear on either side of me, both wearing concerned expressions. Dad’s hair is sticking up like he rolled out of bed, and Mae’s wearing a fuzzy purple robe over what looks like leopard print pajamas.
Of course—the security system probably sent them a warning. I forgot about that.
“Henry called me when he got a call from the security company,” Mae says, settling into a chair at the prep table. I’d been using it until about an hour ago. “I told him I’d come as back-up.”
“Yes, you’re the bad cop.” I shoot her a grin and avoid my father’s eyes completely as I return to the piping bag.
“What are you doing here?” Dad asks.
“I just couldn’t sleep.”
“Uh-huh.” Dad picks up one of the finished cupcakes and examines it. “These are perfect. Too perfect. You only bake like this when something’s eating at you.” His eyes land on the side of my face, and I have about four seconds before I’ll give in and look at him. His presence is warm and comforting, and my chest collapses in on itself.
“Want to talk about it?”
The simple question breaks something loose inside me. The piping bag slips from my hands as tears start flowing down my face. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whisper.
Dad wraps his arms around me, and I lean into his familiar warmth. “Your mother came by earlier,” he says quietly.
I’m sure she did. She only talks to Dad when she wants him to convince me of something she wants.
“She’s furious with me.” I grip him in a tight hug. “And I’m not even sure I care, but at the same time, I totally do.”
“Your mother is not angry,” Dad says.
“Oh, she is.”
“She’s scared,” Mae says. “Scared you’re going to make different choices than she did.”
I pull back to look at her. “What do you mean?”
Mae takes a bite of cupcake, chewing thoughtfully. “Did I ever tell you about my derby days?”
I nod, because the entire town of Briarwood has heard about Mae’s derby days.
“I was good. Really good,” she says as if I’d said no. “I had sponsors sniffing around, talking about professional leagues.” She licks frosting off her fingers. “But I was also in love. Head-over-heels, stupid-in-love with a boy named Jimmy Kowalski.”
“Mae,” Dad says. “We know all of this. Poor Jimmy got the shaft and you went on to win three National Championships.” He shoots a look at me. “Now is not the time.”
“Yes, I chose the derby.” Mae picks up another cupcake. “And he didn’t get the shaft. I thought he would wait for me, thought Jimmy would understand that my sport came first.” She meets my eyes, and I see something there that I’ve never seen on Mae’s face before.
Pain. Regret—and not from eating two double-dark chocolate cupcakes after midnight. “Spoiler alert: He didn’t wait. He married my best friend six months later.”
The pain in her voice is still raw after all these years.
“Yes, I won three national championships,” she continues. “I had my picture in magazines, saw my name in record books. But you know what I think about when I’m lying in bed at night? Not the trophies. I think about Jimmy, and what might have been if I’d been brave enough to choose love.”
I think about Finn’s face when he watched me skate, the pride in his eyes, the way he encouraged me even when I stumbled. Then I think about my mother’s constant criticism, her threats to move my training, her complete dismissal of my happiness.
“I’m scared,” I admit. “Scared of failing again, but also scared of succeeding for all the wrong reasons.”
Mae reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Sugar, the only wrong reason is doing it for someone else’s dreams instead of your own.”
I look around the kitchen, at the dozens of cupcakes I’ve created in my emotional chaos, at the two people who love me without conditions. For the first time in hours, days, weeks, months, heck, probably years—I can breathe.
