Page 19 of Feels Like the First Time
“How would I know? Opening your dad’s package would be unethical.” Loraine lowered her voice, as if she were imparting a national secret. “I did peek at the letter inside, though, and saw that it’s from your sister.”
“This can’t be good.”
“When Marty starts mumbling about sailing up the coast, it’s never good, honey.”
Didn’t Ali know it. When her mom left, Marty took Ali out for an afternoon sail—which lasted three days. When the divorce papers came in, he took Ali out on a semester at sea. And when Ali went off to art school, he sailed solo around the tip of South America.
Twice.
Bottom line, when things got complicated in Marty’s world, he stocked up the boat with Corona and Jimmy Buffett tunes, and went in search of Gilligan’s Island. Only, the Buffett lifestyle wasn’t conducive to daily sugar logs and insulin therapy—so Marty couldn’t just pick up and sail off into the sunset anymore.
“Since I wasn’t sure if he was taking a day sail, or going to Mexico, I brought it to you.”
“Thanks, Loraine,” Ali said, emptying the box on the counter.
“My pleasure, honey. And next time you go to the market, can you get one percent milk? You got in another movie from Netflix, the new Bond film I’ve been dying to watch. But Single and Ready to Mingle is this weekend at the senior center, and I need to watch my waistline.”
Ali would have told her she was changing the locks, but she was too busy staring at the contents of the envelope. “One percent. Got it.”
Ali hung up and immediately called the one person who would know what to do with all of the frilly shit staring back at her.
“Glad to know you’re done avoiding me,” Kennedy said in greeting.
“I wasn’t avoiding you.” Ali pushed the collection of magazines cutouts aside and picked up a bubblegum pink silk with her thumb and forefinger. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Busy avoiding me. I haven’t heard from you since I made that special pie for your dinner.” Kennedy gasped. “It was the pie, wasn’t it? Sugar-free isn’t in my vocabulary.”
“The pie was amazing,” Ali assured her. “Marty gobbled down two slices and didn’t even suspect a thing. And Bridget was so impressed she asked if you did Paleo wedding cakes.”
“I haven’t done a wedding cake since college, and I have been tampering with coconut and almond flour—wait. Your sister’s getting married?”
“I’m looking at swatches for bridesmaid dresses and tablecloths right now.” Ali saw an itemized list titled,HOW TO THROW A POSH AND PROPER ENGAGEMENT SHOWER, and dropped the fabric. “She wants us to wear fascinators, and play Pin the Fascinator on the Bride.” She thumbed through the clippings. “There’s a list of foods I can’t even pronounce, with recipes and instructions and— oh God!” Ali took a huge step back, her stomach churning with nerves. “There’s a note to my dad, thanking him for throwing her the best engagement shower ever. My dad can’t even throw a dinner that doesn’t include a grill and the Margarator. Why would she send him all of this?”
“Maybe because she wants to include him in her big day,” Kennedy said softly.
“No, this is her getting back at me for the other night. She knows that Dad will do anything to make her happy, but that he can’t handle putting something this elaborate together, which means I will have to make this perfect or my dad will be crushed.”
“What happened the other night?”
Ali pressed her lips together. She was already stressed out over this party; there was no way she could talk about her and Hawk right then.
“Okay, this deserves an emergency chocolate fix. Friends don’t let friends have a freak-out on an empty stomach. Come over, I just pulled a batch of chocolate-filled croissants out of the oven. And I know everything there is to know about throwing a shower,” Kennedy said.
“You do?”
“Well, no, but I know my way around a kitchen, and I know the best way to a solution is through chocolate.”
“I already have pie.”
“One can never have too much chocolate in these kinds of situations. Get your butt over here.” Kennedy ended the call before Ali could argue.
Not that she would have. Kennedy was a great sounding board, and Ali’s closest friend. The two had met last year when Kennedy had first moved to Destiny Bay. They had immediately bonded over a common love of sweets and loathing for the two owners of Two Bad Apples Hard Cider.
And there they were, a year later—Kennedy was engaged to one of the owners, while Ali had engaged in a two-minute fauxmance with the other. And now she was about to host his ex-wife’s engagement shower.
Ali put the pie in her fridge and hopped in the shower. Five minutes later, she locked up her shop and, sure to look both ways for good Samaritans, scurried down the sidewalk, past the Penalty Box, and through the front door of Sweetie Pies.
Even though the morning pastry rush had already ended, the bakery was still a hive of activity, with a lively coupon bingo game taking up most of the front of the shop, while a line of late-wakers wound their way past the display case, seeing what was left to sample.
