by Viragh, Brea
It was all I could do to keep my composure when I knew this would be a hard conversation.
“You must know the Monroes,” I commented. Familiar concern swirled up in my gut, starting an anxious roiling. Add in the tingle, and I’d need a week in the hospital to recover. “You scored an invitation.”
He glanced toward the folks in the center of the festivities, giggling and holding their plates. “The park is right down the street from my office. Hard to concentrate on work with all the whooping and hollering going on. It’s noisy.” Duncan considered the choice of sweets before him, with his hands looped behind his back. “Do you think your friends will mind if I snag a sample? I’ve never been able to resist.”
“If they realized you were here, they would feed you themselves. They’re the kind of people to grandparent a complete stranger.” I glanced over to the couple. “As it is, they’re too wrapped up in each other to notice.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Duncan took his time in choosing before bringing a cupcake to his lips. “What they have together. It’s one of those connections only certain people are lucky enough to find.”
“It is indeed.”
I watched him chew, thoughtful, before Duncan’s eyes slowly closed. A murmur of satisfaction rose from his throat. “You are a culinary angel. I’m not sure I’ve ever told you.”
His compliment had me turning away, cheeks burning and the tingle causing my heart to beat like a jackhammer. Not only the tingle, but the accompanying smile. Honeyed and savory at the same time. “Not yet.”
“It’s the truth, Leda. I’ve never tasted anything this good. And my grandmother cooked better than the best of them.” The rest of the cupcake fell to his desire.
I waved him away. “Stop it before you embarrass me.” Yes, this was going to be hard. The kind of hard like trying to choose which of your bills to pay when you didn’t have money for both. Electric or food? Dreams or love? Then I remembered: I was in control of my future. What I could not control was Duncan’s reaction, which in this case was nil. He’d chosen Isabel. It should have made my dilemma easier.
“You deserve it.”
The compliments hung in the air between us and I nearly forgot all about my resolution to stay away from him. Forgot my desire to distance myself from this terrible love, my desire for August’s happiness, my best interests. All the precautions I should take yet could not.
I imagined myself in the probable future if I didn’t back away now. I’d be standing in a corner of the Country Store with my hands clutched between my breasts, tearing up as I waited to catch a single glimpse of him. I could imagine falling to my feet, sobbing, the moment he came in to give Isabel a hug. A kiss. I’d gotten the chance to tell him how I felt but he made his choice anyway. And it wasn’t me.
The fantasy was more than I could bear.
With the sun bright overhead and the hot air stinging my cheeks, I vowed to never let that daydream become reality.
“Duncan, look...” My voice trailed off until the sound disappeared.
He took hold of the silence, leaning closer though his hands remained at his sides. “I’m happy I came out here today. We haven’t gotten to talk since our walk the other day. Seeing you has brightened an otherwise boring afternoon. There’s been so much going on lately and I haven’t been able to speak to you.”
I swallowed my concerns and they dropped into my abdomen. “Do tell.”
“Isabel and I have been having issues with the wedding.” He leaned against a tree trunk as he spoke. “She didn’t find a baker in time and the one in town doesn’t do weddings. Tomorrow we’ll be forced to get in the car to drive around like idiots and see what we can find.”
There was agitation in his every movement. Agitation and regret. I understood the first and wondered about the second. “I’m sorry,” I said in an automatic response. My gaze dropped to the cupcakes when it became hard to look at him. “Sounds like a rough turn of events.”
“I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m at my wits’ end, but what can I say? She’s as stressed as I am and fighting doesn’t help with our issues.” Duncan drummed his fingers on bark of the tree.
An idea popped into my head, against my better judgment. Before I thought better of it, I gestured down to the spread before us. “Would it help if I made the cake for you? I would be happy to help. I’ll throw in the fondant for free.”
Crap, what had I just agreed to do? Sure, doing the cake would be great exposure for my business, but doing it for Duncan’s wedding? My broken heart couldn’t handle much more. I was already asking a lot from it.
It pleased me to watch his sadness drain away. “You’d do that? For me?”
I should not have agreed. The sentiment echoed along the planes of my brain like a mantra, although my mouth and tongue had other ideas. “Oh, for you, darlin’?” I took up a measure of levity for Duncan’s sake. Swallowed back the wet hush of tears and forged ahead. “I’ll whip something up, as long as you don’t want anything over six layers. I’ve never gone beyond five. No need to ruin your special day with a lopsided cake.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Finished with his cupcake, Duncan dropped the wrapper to the table and took my hand. “An angel and a lifesaver. Who would have guessed?”
Pulling away was childish, I knew. I swallowed down my desperate need to scream and cry, a shattered woman’s tantrum, and I glanced down at our combined fingers. Pulling out of it now wouldn’t be the worst thing, the smartest part of me begged. Inner romantic whispered how it was already too late.
“Yeah, well, it’s my pleasure. I’m happy to help you in any way I can,” I replied.
I finally gathered enough resolve to look up at his face, and it was as if the rest of the world faded to black. My pulse echoed in my head. Yeah, this had been a bad idea. When the pad of his thumb burned fire along my knuckles, my nervous system shut down. My arms felt so stiff I wondered if Duncan realized he was speaking to a mannequin.
“No one has ever held my hand so sweetly before.”
“You deserve it, and so much more.” Duncan rubbed his thumb over my knuckles once, twice more before releasing. He cleared his throat. “I apologize.”
Later, when the party was done and I was safe at home, I would give myself permission to go insane. To rip out my hair and scream my lugs out. But I needed to get a grip until then. With feigned nonchalance, I shrugged and resisted the urge to bring my hand to my chest. “Don’t worry. How about you go enjoy the day? I’m sure someone will save a dance for you. It will give you good practice.”
“No, thanks. I should get back to work before someone notices I’m gone.” He spared another glance at the sweets. “What kind of cake did you say you made?”
“I didn’t.” My smile was a secretive thing, colored by sorrow and ragged around the edges.
“Will you tell me now?” he prodded.
“It’s a confidential blend. If I told you, then I would have to kill you.”
“Not sure if that’s in our best interest. We wouldn’t want a death on our hands.” Duncan stooped his shoulders and put me in mind of a child. He knew he’d been naughty and still wanted Santa to bring him a present. His grin confirmed the picture in my head. “What are you doing later?”
Running my head under cold water until I know I can be trusted to go outside. “I’ll be finishing up with Esme and Bill. Then I have a few more chores at the house.”
“You’re working too hard.”
The sun was not the sole object drawing heat to the surface with a magnetic-like pull. Other parts of my anatomy moistened at his nearness and I wondered if I would ever recover from him.
“I think I’m working enough. It’s better to stay busy and keep my mind on the right path.”
Did he not sense how I felt? I wondered as he stood there, thumbs now looped through his belt buckle. This would be my hardest breakup. The kicker was, we hadn’t gotten to the dating part. Instead of focusing on Duncan, on the tin
gle insistently zapping my nerves, I steeled my determination. The bakery had to be my number one priority now.
“How have you been? I’m sorry I haven’t called or come by to see you.” Duncan scratched the area below his chin. “I know we left things between us a little weird the other day. I should have called.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve had a few activities going on myself.”
He inclined his head, eyes darkening. “With August.” Less of a question and more a statement.
“With other matters outside of our friendship.”
“He’s been comforting you? I hope you haven’t been too sad about the loan.”
“I’m fine, don’t you worry.” I shot him a heavy-lidded glance. “I had certain people who took time out of their schedules to help.”
It was the scent of searing hamburgers and hotdogs, freshly cut grass, and candy for the kids. It was the sounds of music on the stereo and small children playing on the nearby swing set. It was Duncan standing a foot in front of me. I felt the nostalgia welling in my throat and tears burning my eyes. And I understood why I had a hard time moving forward. If I had the power to capture the moment, I’d play it on a repeating loop. Those heady days of summer...
“And the friends who didn’t should come to see you more,” he declared. “Work is no excuse to keep them away.”
Unable to look at him a second longer, I turned to where the rest of the people enjoyed their afternoon. The Monroe duo were still wrapped up in each other as proper for an anniversary, and despite the folks all around them, they had eyes for each other and no one else. Would I ever find the same kind of connection? Once Duncan was married and settled down, would I have another shot to find a good man? A strong man worthy of standing at my side?
Duncan shifted to stare at them as well, the two of us sharing the silence. Which one of us would break first? I purposely kept from staring at him again.
In the end it was me. “How is the wedding planning coming along? Outside of your cake fiasco. You seem apprehensive.”
“Apprehensive? I’d say concerned.”
“There goes the cold feet again,” I joked, lighthearted.
“A man is entitled to cold feet,” Duncan retorted. He turned and captured my gaze. Intoxicating. “Don’t you think?”
I was slow to answer. “I feel that if you’ve met the right person, there would be no cold feet. You would want to join together in whatever way you could. Look at all these people.” I shuffled from foot to foot, leaning against the table. “Everyone came to celebrate the anniversary of the blessed union. The coming together of two souls who choose, year after year, to remain together.”
Duncan nodded. “I see what you mean.”
“They’re what every man and woman should aspire to be. No hesitation. Just a single, easy choice.” I tilted my head to Duncan. “Don’t you agree?”
I saw the emotions flash across his face, so fast I was practically unaware of their existence. There was curiosity, desire. Regret. “You’re trying to tell me I should reconsider my own wedding.”
“Your words, not mine.” It would be easy to admit my feelings now. Right now. When it was the two of us, alone amidst the groups of townsfolk who were already convinced of our relationship, with his hesitation holding the door open for me. Instead I kept my cards close to the chest and swallowed the desire.
My father would approve.
“What aren’t you telling me, Leda?” Duncan took two steps around the table and before I could think about it, I was moving away. “Is there something we should discuss? Now is the time to tell me.”
Dangerous waters loomed ahead. This much I knew. “I was only making a comment. You’re too suspicious.”
“If there are important matters you want to speak about, then we need to move to a private place and air them.” He swept his arm toward the gazebo. “Care to join me?”
In fact, I would rather eat mud. I had no right messing with fate. His fate was with Isabel and not with me. The time had come for me to accept the fact and move on. My dreams were on the line. “Duncan...”
People were already turning to look at us. It was more fuel for the gossip mill. More denials and cancelled appointments if I could not get my act together soon. But damn, did it hurt.
“This may be the stress talking, but it seems like our dynamic has changed.” He moved closer and dropped his head down until the force of his breath caressed my hair. “Don’t you agree?”
My fingers shook as I moved to swat him away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You need to be honest with me. I thought we could speak to each other without restraint.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, but I do know this isn’t the place.”
He signaled again to the gazebo, though my feet remained rooted to the ground. The man I loved. He was close enough I felt the static echo.
“Let’s talk, then. I don’t want to have any strangeness between us. What we have is too...unique.”
I turned on him then. “What do we have, Duncan?” And there went the hair trigger on my anger issues. Blinking to keep my truth from him, I knew there was nowhere to run. He’d pushed and prodded in the direction I refused to go. A stubborn mule fighting against a master with a whip.
I’d wanted out. Wanted distance despite the love I felt. The resilient are able to walk away. Right? “What do you think we have?” I asked again.
“Something indescribable,” he said. “Leda, you and me, we’re special.”
My head spun. “Here I thought we were just friends. Nothing else.”
“As much as I don’t want to admit it, I don’t think that’s true anymore. There is an attraction,” he said carefully, “and much more than that.” He chewed on his lower lip for a second.
Somehow I felt the force of the statement, a bolt through my heart. My tongue crumbled to dust and I choked on the pieces. “How sweet of you to say.”
His happiness dimmed. “You know damn well I don’t mean it in a bad way.”
“No, the way you mean it is much worse.”
“You are obstinate and bull-headed, Miss Cox.”
“I’m going to take it as praise, Mr. Whitaker.”
“God, the way you say my name...” He trailed off and shook his head again. Sunlight glinted off each liquid strand of hair, my attention captured. “It’s a sin.”
A sin I wasn’t sure I could bear. I was willing to take the steps in the right direction and make amends. More than willing. Prepared. Did he have to make it difficult?
“None of it matters when you won’t make a choice. Unless you want to stay and join the festivities, you should be getting back to work. I’m sure you have coworkers and clients expecting you.” I forced an open, ambivalent expression to smooth my features. Unwilling to continue the conversation further. “Let us sin no more today.”
Duncan shifted, putting me in mind of a boulder. Those first shakes on a craggy ledge before an avalanche. Unlike before, he gave little away now. He’d boarded up the windows and the two of us faced each other with the burden of every unsaid word between us. “If you insist. But I’ll tell you,” he claimed. “Before the week’s end, I’ll have you spilling the beans. Trust me.”
I watched his retreating back casting shadows on the ground. “I have no doubt,” I murmured.
Insides shaking, I returned to the table of food, where children snuck beneath the tablecloth to grab a sweet or two, away from their parents’ all-seeing and watchful gazes. Smiling at a particular young lady with ribbon-tipped pigtails, I handed off a cupcake before her older brother took the last of them.
It would have been better, I thought, to walk away from Duncan when this whole thing started. I could have thrown out the love fostered in my heart and taken the high road before any damage. Instead, no matter how I moved, I was confronted by him. Any more tests like this and I was sure to fail. And live the rest of my life with the consequences. The funny thing was, no m
atter what I wanted, I felt no shame. Only a great willingness to be honorable.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The party continued, a joyful celebration, with no one aware of the internal war I fought. I stayed through the opening of the gifts before heading back to my house, my tail tucked between my legs and feeling empty inside. Beating my head against the steering wheel, I wondered why I hadn’t told Duncan what was on my mind. God, taking the high road was the worst.
There were amends to make beyond the obvious, and I fought to soothe the deep-rooted upset for the part I played. I made sure each customer who came through my doors, the ones who still genuinely liked me as well as the ones wanting a taste of gossip straight from the source, were treated with as much forced cheer as I could muster. And each sent on their way with a basket of homemade cupcakes.
Leda Cox was a pillar of the community, goddammit, a woman more willing to throw away her own opportunity for love than chance her goals, her dreams. I didn’t need a man to make me happy, especially one who refused to reconsider his engagement when faced with the prospect of true love.
Tuesday morning, I readied the oven once more. I’d concoct a tasteful delight for the Whitakers. Mister and Missus. It would be a farewell gift, a way to distance myself. As I’d stated earlier, I was out. This was me closing the door.
Why was it so hard to keep the blasted thing latched shut?
Because love made fools of us all. Fools or monsters—I couldn’t yet tell which one I was.
Barefooted, I completed the last of the prep. A simple icing with a bold color choice. These needed to be the best cupcakes of my career, and a lick of the spoon told me yes. They were. Once the cakes were complete, I gathered a wicker basket from the closet and cleaned it thoroughly. Colored tissue paper lined the basket, followed by cupcakes, ribbons, and a generous dusting of goodwill.
This was the first step toward atonement, and once I dropped these bad boys off, I would delete Duncan’s number from my phone. Eventually I knew I would have to make nice with August. I wished him the best of luck in all his future romantic endeavors.