Page 8 of A New Year Baby

CHAPTER 4

“Look, we just want peace,” I whisper to Eve as she takes me aside to a corner of the store. We left Luna to chat with Adam, and the little girl is talking a mile a minute, and surely making his ears hurt. She’s going on about how NORAD tracks Santa, and how there’s a hotline you can call to get updates on his location—one that she uses frequently, I might add. She is telling him that he can install an app on his phone to track Santa’s journey, and that she can give him the bakery’s WiFi password if he needs it.

Adam is nodding and pulling out his phone to install the app.

“Just give me a second to process all of this,” Eve says with a frown. “I can’t believe… Stella!”

“I know,” I say quietly. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Eve puts her hands up into her hair. “I have a niece?” she asks with amazement.

“Please,” I say softly, reaching out to grab the sleeve of her coat. “Please don’t tell him.”

“She’s the most adorable kid I’ve ever seen, Stell.”

I squeeze her hand. “We don’t want any trouble. I tried to reach out to him a million times and it’s clear he wanted nothing to do with me… I don’t want legal battles or lawsuits or custody wars…”

“Stella!” Eve is saying, still clearly in shock. “Holy Mexican jumping beans, Stella!”

“I don’t have any of those. But we do have Mexican vanilla beans,” I tell her, weakly.

“What the heck? What the actual heck, Stell!”

I don’t really know what to say, so I look down at my flour-covered apron, guiltily.

“He should be helping you,” Eve says finally. “If he knew, he would help you out in some way—financially or otherwise. And if he doesn’t help you, my family will.”

“I don’t need any help,” I tell her stubbornly. “I’m a decent pastry chef, in case you didn’t notice. When my brother died we got a big settlement from the oil company. There was a class action about unsafe working conditions. Anyway, it’s all invested and Luna is going to be just fine. She can go to college anywhere she wants.”

“Is she going to be just fine when she learns that Santa Claus isn’t real, and she doesn’t have a father coming down the chimney to bring her presents once a year?” Eve asks, her judgmental gaze drilling holes into me. “Or is she going to be traumatized for life?”

I shut my eyes tightly. “All of Snowflake Creek is clearly traumatized and in denial about Santa not being real. She’s in good company.”

Eve is silent for a moment, then. “He barely talks to me,” she finally admits. “I text Jack every few months, but I don’t really know what’s going on with him. He hardly ever texts back. He doesn’t really talk to my sisters or my parents. He’s not really a factor in any of our lives. He wasn’t there for any of our struggles. I don’t think he has bothered to read a single book I’ve written. He doesn’t check in on Mary’s relationship and career problems, or even seem to care that Clara has suffered a life-altering injury. I came home because of my father’s health, but where is Jack? He’s just not there for us.”

“I’m sorry, Evie,” I tell her quietly. “I didn’t know.”

“You’re sorry? Don’t be sorry.I’msorry!” Eve responds. “I never understood why he just left like that. It was so sudden, without a conversation.”

“It was my fault,” I tell her with a sad smile. “You were there. You were part of the flash mob. I couldn’t say yes—I ran away. I hurt him.”

“Well, you were also hurting,” Eve responds. “He should grow up and get the hell over it. Sometimes in life, things don’t go as perfectly as planned. Timing is wrong, or there are obstacles. That’s no excuse to run away forever. Especially from the people who love you, the people who have always been there for you. I would understand if he needed a day or a few weeks to get over the rejection. But all these years?”

Hearing Eve defend me is making me emotional. I don’t want Luna to see me cry. I excuse myself to go sit in my kitchen, on a little metal stool. I rest my elbows on the flour-covered countertop as I wipe away tears from my eyes, sniffling and surely smearing flour all over my face.

Eve follows me into the kitchen, and rests a hand on my shoulder.

She doesn’t say anything, just stands there for a moment and lets me cry. I try to wipe away more tears, but only succeed in covering myself with more flour. Great. I am sure that I now look like an actress in Kabuki theatre.

“You want to know the worst part?” I ask Eve. “He was my best friend. Growing up, for so many years before we ever started dating—we werereally greatfriends. I never had girlfriends, you know? Other than you girls, I guess. I was just always hanging around Jack. Talking to Jack about everything. We had this whole big plan for how our lives would go, and I guess I ruined that.”

“You didn’t,” Eve says.

I shake my head. “Every day, I still feel strange that I can’t just pick up my phone and call him to tell him about something wonderful Luna did. Or to share some detail of my day, some success in my business. Sometimes, I have a really great baking day, and everything goes perfectly well, and I feel like such a boss. Like when those macarons come out soexactlyright. Then I turn around, and expect him to be there. Still. I expect to say… hey Jack, try this freaking amazing macaron, it’s the best thing I’ve ever made. Today is such a great day. Everything is going my way. But he’s just not there. I mean, at least I have Luna, but…”

“You miss him,” Eve says. “I do, too.”

I nod. “I wouldn’t even mind so much if we broke up under normal circumstances and he married some other girl, but we still stayed friends. Maybe if he saw Luna on weekends or once a month, heck—even once a year like Santa Claus! But how could hecompletelyghost me like this? Like we didn’t know each other for twenty years? There’s just a giant hole in my chest, Evie. I think there always will be.”

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