Sweet on You

by Katana Collins

  Lex

  The DNA testing was a much faster process than I expected. I went into an exam room in the lab section of the hospital. A busy nurse came in, swabbed my cheek, and was gone before I could even try to make small talk. Voila. Once they received Olivia’s sample, it would take roughly a week to complete the tests and determine paternity.

  I stepped out of the room and was shrugging back into my suit jacket when I heard the high-pitched giggle of a baby girl. My blood pressure spiked. My heart slammed into my chest—no, my throat. I could feel my pulse hitting at the base of my jaw.

  When I slowly looked up, there was a little girl playing with some of the toys in the waiting room. Her back was to me as she faced a large doll house, and in her left hand, she held a Barbie doll by the ankles, swinging it around.

  “Olivia,” An older man sat in a chair beside her, leaning over, his elbows on his knees. He tapped her shoulder and she glanced up at him. I saw her profile for the first time. A cute, button nose that was all Sarah. Blonde hair that was all Sarah again. Teal plastic glasses were perched on her nose.

  “Pappap?” she said softly. I gasped at the sound, wanting to close my eyes against the onslaught of tears—except, I couldn’t. I couldn’t break my gaze away from her. Her gorgeous little face. Her perfect little voice. That sweet little giggle.

  “We want you to meet someone,” Mr. Murphy said and pointed at me.

  Slowly, Olivia turned with a few clumsy steps until she was facing me. Time stood still.

  Her nose was all Sarah. Her hair was all Sarah. But those eyes? Those bright turquoise eyes were me.

  She shied away from me at first, stepping back and bumping into her Pappap’s knee. He stood slowly and grunted as though standing was hard enough, without having to add chasing after a baby. Then, he lifted her into his arms and took a few steps toward me.

  I met him halfway, walking over to them. “You must be Alexander?” he asked. His voice was gruff and raspy and held slight traces of what I’d grown to know as a New England accent. He held out his free hand which I took, shaking it.

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  He bounced the little girl in his arms. “This is Olivia,” he said.

  “Your… daughter,” Mrs. Murphy added coming up beside her husband.

  “Linda, we don’t know that for sure, yet,” he said, quietly, as an aside.

  “Bob. Look at them. They have the same eyes.”

  Mr. Murphy sighed, but looked lovingly upon his wife. “Lots of people have blue eyes.”

  I cleared my throat. “I understand your reticence until we get the results back,” I said. “I’m so grateful you’re letting me meet her today, though. More grateful than you’ll ever know.” Dammit. My voice cracked on that last sentence. For Mrs. Murphy, that didn’t seem like something that would matter. But, Mr. Murphy? He seemed far more withdrawn from his emotions. Like the kind of man who valued a tough as nails attitude.

  Mr. Murphy nodded, his posture straight as an arrow and he looked strong in spite of his age, with broad shoulders and only the slightest hint of a belly.

  Mrs. Murphy took Olivia from her husband’s arms and stepped closer to me. Those big, blue eyes of hers sized me up with wisdom that seemed well beyond her less than a year and a half of life. “Olivia, this is Mommy’s friend.” Mrs. Murphy paused and glanced up at me. “I don’t know how to introduce you,” she said quietly. “Should she call you Lex for now? Until we have confirmation? Or is that going to be confusing?”

  I wish I knew. I had read every parenting book I’d gotten my hands on in the last two years, but none of them covered how to handle meeting your child for the first time when she was a toddler. “Lex is fine… I think.”

  “She’s fifteen months old, Linda. It’s not going to scar her to call him by his name for one day,” Mr. Murphy said.

  Olivia pointed a chubby finger at me. “Mommy’s fend?”

  I nodded and smiled at her through my tears, brushing my fingers to my chest. “That’s right. I’m Lex, your mummy’s friend.”

  With her other hand, she held out the Barbie to me and I gently took it. “Oh, thank you,” I said, holding Barbie up. She wore a chef’s hat and an apron. “Is Barbie baking today?” I asked.

  Olivia nodded.

  “Funny at that. I’m a baker, you know. I own a bakery.” Behind us in the waiting area was a fake kitchen with the sort of plastic, toy food I’d seen kids playing with on tv.

  “You are?” Mr. Murphy asked, intrigued. “You own your own bakery?”

  I nodded. “I do. I’d love for you to come by and see it sometime.”

  Mr. Murphy nodded. “Well, that’s something.”

  “Olivia loves pretending to cook and bake. She sits on the counter and watches me bake all the time. Don’t you?” Mrs. Murphy bounced Olivia on her hip and kissed her forehead.

  “I could help you and Barbie bake right now, if you’d like?” I said, gesturing to the pretend kitchen in the waiting area.

  Her smile lit up her face—and again, something in that smile was familiar. In the dimples sinking into both of her cheeks. They were my dimples. That was my smile. This was my daughter.

  I looked up at the Murphys. “If that’s all right, of course?”

  Mrs. Murphy set Olivia down on the floor. “We have a few minutes until they call her in for her cheek swab.”

  Olivia toddled over to the play kitchen and I followed her, dropping to a seat on the floor next to it. “What should we make, Olivia?”

  She shrugged her shoulders, her little lips forming a pout.

  “She’s shy at first with new people,” Mr. Murphy interjected.

  “Shhh, let them play,” his wife shushed him.

  “Well, why don’t we see what we’ve got in the fridge, yes?” Olivia nodded and I opened the door where a small box of fake food sat. I pulled it out and started rummaging around, grabbing fake eggs, plastic blueberries and some fake pancakes with butter that velcroed on. “Ah, how about pancakes?”

  Her eyes lit up and she nodded. We played like that for several minutes. Mixing up fake batter and pretending to fry the pancakes up in the skillet.

  I picked up the skillet from the burner and hissed. “Oh, it’s hot!”

  “Hot!” she repeated and touched her finger to the top of the pancake. I made a sizzling sound as she touched it and she giggled.

  “That’s right, hot. Ouchie!”

  “Ouchie!” She cradled her finger, pretending as though it really burned her and then held the finger up to me. “Kiss it?”

  The knot lodged in my throat, not for the first time today. How many ouchies had I missed already? How many would I miss in the future in the times I didn’t have her? Slowly, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her finger.

  She held up her hands in triumph. “All better!” Then, she ran over to her grandmother, holding out her finger. “All better!”

  “It is!” Mrs. Murphy exclaimed and brushed her hair out of her face with another kiss to Olivia’s forehead.

  “Here,” I held out the plate with the pancake on it to Olivia. “Would your…” I paused and looked up at Mrs. Murphy. “I’m sorry, I just realized I don’t know what she calls you? Grandma or Nonny or…”

  “Nana,” Mrs. Murphy said quietly. “I’m Nana—”

  “Nana!” Olivia cried out, pointing at her grandmother.

  “That’s right! Nana! And he goes by Pappap.”

  I smiled and looked once more to Olivia. “Why don’t you deliver the first pancake to Nana? Ask if she’d like any syrup.”

  Olivia toddled over to me, grabbed the plate and the fake bottle of syrup before wobbling back over to Nana. She mumbled a lot of words that didn’t sound like anything—yet Mrs. Murphy seemed to understand her perfectly. “Oh, I would love some syrup. Thank you, Olivia.”

  She pretended to squirt syrup on and handed the plate to Nana, then came back to me. “And let’s not forget about Pa
ppap,” I said, handing her another plate of pancakes.

  She was more excited now, her steps faster, nearly running. About halfway to Pappap, she lost her balance and fell hard onto her knees.

  I froze. And luckily, it seemed I wasn’t the only one who froze. Both Mr. and Mrs. Murphy waited until she was crying. Which didn’t take long. Her wail filled the waiting room and she held up her palms which were now red. “Ouchie, ouchie, ouchie,” she cried over and over.

  I moved to go to her, but Mrs. Murphy was there first, scooping her up and consoling her.

  “I-I’m sorry,” I said to Mr. Murphy. “I should have made sure she wasn’t running.”

  For the first time since we met, he smiled at me, the creases around his eyes and mouth deeper than his wife’s. “Oh, Lex. That’s not the first fall she’s had. Not the worst, either. Not by a stretch.”

  I exhaled in relief, feeling so incredibly lucky at how sweet and understanding the Murphys were. He was right, of course. Rationally, I knew that a little kid falling was anything but unusual and wasn’t always an adult’s fault. But not all grandparents about to take part in a custody mediation would be as understanding as they were. It was refreshing. And it restored my faith in humanity.

  In Mrs. Murphy’s arms, Olivia’s crying stilled. Tears still streaked her ruddy cheeks, and as she inhaled, her breath was choppy. She held out her palms to me. “Ouchie,” she said, this time calmer than when she went to her Nana.

  I nodded. “Big ouchie.”

  “Kiss?”

  Again, I bent and kissed her little palms, taking an extra moment to nuzzle her. Her hand smelled like goldfish crackers and when I stood back up, I asked her, “All better?”

  But this time, she shook her head no.

  It wasn’t all better. Not yet. But it would be soon… I hoped.

  From the opposite side of the waiting room, Brady came over, cell phone pressed to his ear. “Lex,” he said, covering the receiver. “It’s your friend from the bakery. Is your phone off?”

  “Excuse me,” I said to the Murphys taking a few steps away. “Yes, I turned it off in the courtroom.” I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and turned it on. Three voicemails were waiting for me as well as seven text messages.

  “There’s been an emergency,” Brady said. “At the bakery.” I grabbed his phone from him and held it up to my ear.

  “Tony,” I said. “Is everything all right over there?”

  I could hear sirens on the other end of the phone and my spine bristled. My first thought wasn’t my bakery—it was Frost.

  “This is Ronnie,” a soft voice said on the line. “Everyone is fine, safe. But… the sooner you can get here, the better. There are some questions that I don’t know how to answer for the fire chief.”

  “Fire? Is Frost okay?”

  “Frost is fine. She’s upstairs with Penny.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m leaving now.”

  I hung up and handed the phone back to Brady, looking at the Murphys. They both looked concerned.

  “Is everything all right?” Mrs. Murphy asked.

  “Did I hear that there was a fire?”

  “I, well, I don’t know, to be honest. My friends were watching the bakery for me. They literally didn’t have to do anything except brew coffee. I can’t imagine how a fire would have—”

  That’s when it hit me. The outlet. I don’t think I ever taped off the non-grounded outlet. It had been sparking months ago and I had told Nate about it, but he hadn’t gotten to it yet.

  “We really should go,” I said to Brady. It didn’t escape my notice the way Mr. and Mrs. Murphy exchanged glances. There was something in the looks they were giving each other. “I-I really hope we can do this again, soon,” I added, then grabbed Olivia’s hand gently. “It was lovely meeting you, Olivia.”

  She smiled and Mrs. Murphy said, “Want to blow Lex a kiss goodbye?”

  Olivia nodded, bringing her palm to her mouth and blowing me the most adorable, most clumsy kiss I’d ever seen. I caught it mid-air and tucked it into my breast pocket, tapping it. “I’ll cherish it, always,” I said.

  And I meant that. Every word.

  15

  Ronnie

  It wasn’t even noon yet and it felt like I’d been watching Lex’s bakery for a whole week. Even though the fire was small, Lana, Tony, and I made the executive decision to call the fire department and make sure everything was safe and the outlet wouldn’t spark once more after we’d left.

  I had no idea until that moment what a mess firefighters can leave. Everything about them is imposing—not that I’m complaining. I know their jobs are hard and dangerous. But their suits are giant. Their boots are hulking and leave footprints everywhere. Their helmets hit doorframes when they enter. It was madness.

  Lana and Tony made more coffee for everyone and put out the leftover muffins from that morning. Not many of them nibbled, but even still, the chief seemed to appreciate the gesture.

  Aaron Trivaldi, a fellow survivor from Maple Grove High School, came up to me, questions marring his brow. “Ronnie?” he asked when he saw me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was café-sitting,” I said and cringed as I looked around the café. Even though the fire hadn’t spread out into the customer area, the smoke certainly had, and it was like looking through a fog. “Obviously, I’m not meant to own a bakery,” I said, gesturing around.

  Aaron chuckled, but his eyes were downturned as he sighed and looked around. “So, Lex isn’t here?”

  I shook my head. “He should be back soon, though,” I said, glancing at the clock. He’d said he was leaving when we finally got through to him via his lawyer. And that was about an hour ago. He should be back any minute. I felt terrible having to be the bearer of bad news. I could hear how stressed he was. And knowing he was up there meeting his daughter for the first time… I hated that I added to an already intense day.

  My heart ached for him. The bakery should have been the last thing on his mind. But he had a right to know that there’d been a fire here. And something had told me he would have been more upset if we hadn’t called him.

  “What about the proprietor?” Aaron asked. “The landlord of the building? Has anyone notified him?”

  “I called Nate and he’s on his way,” I said. Nate was a couple of years younger than us and went to our rival high school. Granted, Maple Grove only had two high schools… the public school and the private school, so it was a built-in rivalry. When you grew up in such a tiny town your whole life, you came to know everyone. And when an outsider like Lex entered the picture—everyone quickly learned what they could about them, too. It was just the way small towns worked.

  Aaron snorted. “Nate. Why am I not surprised?” he muttered beneath his breath, which completely caught me off guard.

  “Lex said Nate was a good landlord,” I responded, lowering my voice.

  Aaron yanked his helmet off his head and set it down by his feet. “Sure, he’s good. If you want a landlord who collects your checks and leaves you alone, he’s your man. Maybe he should focus less on buying new properties and work on maintaining the ones he has.” Aaron’s gaze flicked to his chief who was standing in the doorway of the back room, talking with Tony.

  Right on cue, Nate barged through the front door. He looked both wild and weary all at once. “What happened?”

  Aaron turned calmly, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. “I’ll give you one guess, Townsend.”

  Chief came shuffling over between them and pointed to Aaron. “I think we’re mostly set here,” he said. “We can leave one or two men to talk with Lex and Nate, but the rest can go back to the station.”

  Aaron sneered at Nate before turning to me and laying a hand on my shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s natural to assume an outlet is safe to plug into… and if it isn’t, legally, it’s the landlord’s job to get it fixed as soon as possible.” Then, he pointedly raised his voice. “Electrical problems ar
en’t something you wait to fix.”

  Aaron gave me a nod and sauntered slowly past Nate, glaring at him as he exited the café.

  What a mess. Not only did I nearly burn down Lex’s bakery, but now I’ve gotten Nate in trouble, too.

  The chief finished up chatting with Nate before he crossed over to where Lana and I stood, filling our coffees. “What the hell happened?” Nate whispered, looking over his shoulder at where the firefighters were finishing up. “Where’s Lex? I told him not to use that outlet until I could get the electrician out here next month.”

  I winced. “Don’t blame Lex,” I said. “He wasn’t here and it was my fault. There was a post-it note, but it fell off.” I found it on the floor after everything had calmed down.

  Nate sighed and pushed two hands through his blond hair. “I’m sorry for snapping. It’s not your fault. I’ve just been falling behind on everything and all my sub-contractors are busy.”

  Lex came running into the bakery. His eyes met mine from across the room and for the briefest moment, he paused, then rushed over. “Are you okay? Is anyone hurt?”

  I shook my head. “We’re all okay, Lex. I promise. It was a small fire, but we wanted the fire department to check it out… just in case, you know?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. That was smart.” He looked around the seating and serving area of the café and waved some smoke out of his face. “Did the fire spread out here?”

  “No,” Lana said, coming over and giving him a hug. “It was contained to the back room. Even still, the smoke spread like crazy.”

  Lex walked quickly to each window, making sure they were all open. Then, grabbing a cinderblock, he propped open the back door to the small patio that was used for outdoor seating during the spring and summer. “Tony,” he said. “I have a couple of box fans up in my apartment. Can you grab them and bring them down?”

  With a nod, Tony turned and ran upstairs.

  Nate rubbed the back of his neck. “Lex, I’m sorry. I scheduled the electrician to come next month—”