Page 16 of Peaches & Cream
Ben
One year later…
“I’d like to thank y’all for coming out so early on a Saturday morning to celebrate the grand reopening of Dougherty’s,” my wife says as she stands on the stoop of the restored and extended bakery that has been in her family for generations, and will continue to be a mainstay in the community for many years to come. Especially since growing in her belly right now are a couple of little terrors in the making, and I can’t wait to become as proud of them as I am of their mother.
In the week after I proposed, Shelby went on to win the great Southern Baking Competition, leaving all the other competitors in her cocoa dust as we knew she would. After that, things moved fairly quickly. She had the wiring fixed first and foremost and then she approached Stacey, Chris, and I with a proposal of her own. “Why can’t we all get what we wanted out of this?” she had asked as she laid out the plans to extend her bakery range to include our classic Australian treats.
We didn’t have to think twice, and jumped at the chance to create something unique and special together. Stacey and Chris got their white picket fence in the backyard for their little boy to run around in, and I got to do what I love with the woman I love. And despite my ego, I didn’t even ask for my name to go up on the wall. But my wife put it there anyway…”
“We’ve undergone some changes since we last opened our doors,” she continues, glancing at me with a big smile on her face. “And I’m confident you’ll fall in love with the new range just as much as we’ve all fallen for the smooth-talking Aussie right here.” She inclines her head to me and gets a laugh out of the audience. “Without further ado, I think it’s time to cut the ribbon and eat some lamingtons and pecan pie. Oh, and we have two different types of peach cobbler for you too. You’re going to have to vote on your favorite.”
I laugh because she’s never been willing to accept my win at the semi-final. So, this is her way of getting a rematch, and I hope to God I lose this time. A disappointed pregnant woman is not someone I want to contend with this evening—even though the makeup sex is always fun.
But no matter what happens with the public vote, I’ll still come out the victor. Why? Because that peach cobbler recipe brought me to the woman I love. The town could declare it tastes like shit and I’d still be the happiest man alive. Just because I have her. It’s why I call her peaches.
