Babycakes

by Donna Kauffman

  “Oh, he does,” Greta assured them. “We both do. Really.”

  Gabe and Morgan had been watching the two young students as if they were observing a high-speed Ping-Pong match.

  Gabe reached out and shook Greta’s proffered hand, then shook Flip’s hand as well, probably more to stem the word flow than anything else. “I’m happy to have two such dedicated individuals. Your enthusiasm is duly noted. Flip, please, head on out and my good wishes and Godspeed to your family. I’ll keep your grandmother in my thoughts. Don’t worry about things here; we’ll figure out a schedule for you later.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Langley.” He glanced at Morgan, seemed unsure what to say to him, then lifted a hand. “Okay, so, I’m outta here.” He looked at Greta and paused. “Will you be able to get back okay?”

  “We’ll work something out,” Gabe assured them.

  Flip nodded. “Okay. Cool.” He wove his large frame back through the crowd.

  “He’s really great,” Greta said, looking after Flip, with—if Morgan wasn’t mistaken—a bit more in her eyes than simple admiration for his scientific dedication.

  That made him smile. And hope like hell he didn’t look at Kit like that.

  “I’m sure he is,” Gabe said. “Listen, we’ve had a few things drop in our laps today, so it’s not a normal routine at the moment. Far from it. I need to . . . take care of a few things, and then I’ll be with you to get you settled in. In the meantime, go ahead and take a good look at the facility, the labs, the rehab area.”

  Greta’s face shone with excitement. “Excellent. I’m on it, Dr. Langley!” And with that, she ducked past him and began her exploration.

  “Wow,” Morgan said. “I think, right at this moment, this is the oldest I’ve ever felt.”

  Gabe chuckled at that. “It only gets worse, my friend. It only gets worse. But I’m happy for the enthusiasm. Keeps me young.”

  Morgan turned back to Gabe. “I’m not sure what to do about Lilly. She doesn’t know anyone here yet that she’s really comfortable with, other than you, and, I guess, Kit.” He wished things had progressed better with Birdie, but that was going to take time.

  “I can keep her with me on the facility tour, then let her color while Greta watches her.”

  “You don’t need to be dealing with that. This is important for you. And Greta seems to be a nice girl, but Lilly isn’t always good right off with—”

  “Hey, Doc.”

  Gabe and Morgan looked up. The body of the person belonging to the voice was kind of lost, weaving through the crowd, but he’d recognize that purple Mohawk anywhere.

  “I have samples,” Dre said as she made it through the throng. “Big crowd today.”

  Cupcake samples? Morgan thought that was kind of odd, but maybe the bakery offered samples to local businesses. Then she pulled a manila envelope out of her black messenger bag.

  “Let me know if this works. I think I captured what you wanted with the graphics and got the information organized in a way that would encourage a person to actually read it.”

  Gabe opened the envelope and slid out a couple brochures for the center. His face instantly brightened. “These look great. I’d like to go over them more thoroughly.” He looked up at her. “Things are a bit crazy at the moment—”

  “No problem. I figured as much. Actually, I was going to ask if it would be okay to look around, maybe hang out a bit. I was working off your other material and our conversation, but . . . it kind of got me interested in finding out more. I have some ideas I’d like to talk over with you.” She lifted a hand. “Don’t worry, doesn’t have to be today. And it isn’t going to cost you anything. It’s . . . just something I want to do.”

  “Sure, of course.” Gabe’s cell started buzzing in his lab coat pocket. He checked the screen. “It’s Jekyll. Let me take this.”

  “Okay,” Dre said. When Gabe stepped away she turned to Morgan. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “You are?”

  “Well, glad, meaning if you’re here, your niece is probably here, too.”

  Sounds more like the Dre I’d met, Morgan thought, amused. “She is. What’s up?”

  “Cool kid.”

  He smiled. “I think so. She liked you, too.”

  Dre smiled, and it struck him how dramatically that altered her otherwise . . . interesting visage. Between the Mohawk, the multiple piercings, kohl-heavy makeup, and fairly gender non-specific clothing she wore, he didn’t know quite what to make of her. But, when she smiled, she was actually quite a beautiful young woman, in an uncommon kind of way.

  He thought about the elaborate, delicate, and quite feminine fairy tattoo on her neck, and, when she smiled, it all seemed to make a little more sense.

  “Cool. So, while I was doing this work for the doc, I went ahead and put together a little book for Lilly. Kit said she’s really taken with the turtles, and I know she likes to color.” She reached in her messenger bag and pulled out a spiral bound notebook about half the size of a standard coloring book, but about three times as thick. “It’s nothing fancy, but”—she shrugged and handed it to Morgan—“I thought she might get a kick out of it.”

  The cover was sturdy black mat board and featured a beautiful print of a wide blue ocean with a single sea turtle swimming in the midst of its rich vastness. Below that, in a whimsical print evoking images of mermaids and other nautical fantasies, it said The Adventures of Paddlefoot & Friends.

  Morgan flipped it open and discovered the contents were separated by a half dozen tabbed dividers. Between them were a mix of pages with outlined images of turtles and seascapes, some very simplistic, some far more detailed, along with lined journal paper, and other pages that were entirely blank.

  “I thought it was something she might keep. Color in the easier stuff now, maybe the more detailed stuff later. If she wants to write stories, or just her thoughts, the lined paper is for that. And the blank paper is for whatever she wants to do. Draw her own pictures, write more. The paper I used is for multimedia, so she can color, paint, marker, anything.”

  Morgan continued to flip through the book. “This is . . .” He looked up to find Dre watching him closely, her normally unreadable expression replaced by one of . . . nervous anticipation. She was trying to sound casual, but clearly it meant something to her.

  “It’s stunning,” he finished. “Thoughtful and . . . really wonderful. Thank you. Very much. She’s going to love this.”

  Dre beamed, and he wanted to tell her she should do that more often. She really was a beautiful young woman, inside and out. “Good. I’m glad.”

  “Where did you get these drawings? These prints? They’re amazing.”

  “Oh, I did those.”

  His mouth actually dropped open and he flipped through the book again. “Wow. This is . . . a lot of work.”

  “Not really. I mean, I drew up a ton of things for Gabe, and, well, for myself. Turns out these guys kind of grab at you, the more you get to know about them. And . . . well, it’s my thing. It’s fun.”

  “It’s definitely that. You’re . . . amazingly talented.”

  Her lips twisted in a wry half smile. “You sound surprised.”

  He looked up, instantly contrite. “No, not at all.”

  “Don’t sweat it. A lot of people underestimate me. I’m used to it.”

  “I’d like to think I’m not that person. But . . . maybe I was, a little. My apologies.” He smiled. “Never hurts to take a good look in the mirror once in a while. I appreciate the opportunity.”

  Her expression turned to one of studied observation. “I was prepared not to like you before we even met.”

  His eyes widened, not because the comment surprised him, but because she’d admitted it. “I gathered as much, that day in the bakery.”

  “I guess we both need to look in the mirror every so often.”

  He grinned. “Apparently.” He lifted the journal. “Would you like to give this to her? She’s goi
ng to absolutely be head over heels about it. And coming from you . . . well, she was really taken with you, and she doesn’t warm up so quickly to many people.”

  “Ditto,” Dre said. “I’m not much for blending in.”

  “I got that,” Morgan said, and they both exchanged wry smiles. “But I think you enjoy standing out.”

  “It’s . . . amusing. At times. I’m just being who I am, though.”

  “That’s all we should be.”

  She gave him a more pointed once-over. “You’ll do, Westlake.”

  He chuckled, then cradled the book against his chest and stuck out his hand. “Ditto.”

  She shook it; her fingers were long, slender, her hand far more delicate and soft than he might otherwise have anticipated. An odd amalgam, Miss Dre.

  “I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” she said, “and don’t let it go to your pretty head, but we’re rooting for you.”

  Morgan frowned. “Rooting?” he said, confused. “For me? How?”

  “You’ve got it all over the mechanic dude. He’s a good guy, but totally not right for her.”

  “What mechanic dude?” For a moment, Morgan thought maybe she’d been referring to him and Lilly, making their home on Sugarberry and being accepted by the locals. But . . . what?

  Dre sighed the sigh of young people everywhere, when their elders didn’t get the drift. “You have more of a shot than you think you do, that’s all I’m sayin’.” She shook her head, when his brow furrowed more deeply. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath, “so maybe age always matters.”

  “I’m sorry, I really don’t get—”

  “Just tryin’ to help.”

  “Dre, Morgan.” Gabe walked over just then, looking truly concerned. “That was Jekyll. They really need us down there, pronto.”

  “What’s up?” Dre asked.

  “We need to lend an assist with temporary housing,” Gabe told her. “I’ll just have to send Greta with you, Morgan, and see if Kit will watch over Miss Lilly.”

  “I can watch Lilly,” Dre offered. “How long?”

  Morgan turned to her. He wouldn’t have thought of her as babysitter material, but opinions change, and his had. Plus, Lilly liked Dre. “It would be at least a few hours. Maybe even four or five?” He glanced at Gabe, who nodded in agreement. “Gabe’s got this tour, and new interns, and—”

  “Say no more. I’m on it.” Dre held out her hand. “I’ll take the book back and send Kit up.”

  “You sure?” Morgan asked. “I mean, Lilly will love it, but that’s a lot to ask.”

  “You’re saying more and time’s wasting. When I’m on it, I’m on it.” She wiggled the fingers of her extended hand. “Gimme.”

  Morgan’s wry smile returned as he handed her the spiral bound journal. “Appreciated.”

  “No worries.” She smiled and brushed past him. “Besides, now you’ll owe me.”

  “I’ll be happy to help you whenever there’s something you need.”

  She paused, looked back. “I think you mean that.”

  He grinned. “Just being myself.”

  “Huh. You know, we may be more alike than you think.”

  “Scary, right?”

  Dre’s lips twisted in that half smile and she started toward the back again.

  “Just don’t shave her head or tattoo her, and we’ll be fine,” Morgan called behind her.

  “Not to worry,” she called back, turning and continuing to walk backwards. “I only shave and tattoo on Wednesdays.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Besides, she’s not the type for tats.”

  “Good to know you feel that way.”

  Dre paused just before pushing the swinging door that led to the rehab area. “Oh, she’ll be the type for something. But probably not that.” She grinned. “Probably.” Pushing through the door, she let it swing shut behind her.

  “I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Gabe said, looking worriedly at Morgan.

  “Oh, I know they will.” Morgan glanced toward the back, then heard a loud girlish squeal of delight coming from the other side of the door. “That’s what worries me.” But though Dre was a complex young woman, , anyone who would put that much thought, care, and personal time into making such a gift, simply because she wanted to, was all right in his book.

  Lilly burst through the swinging door a moment later, carrying the journal clutched to her chest. Kit came through the door just behind her.

  “Moggy, Moggy, look!”

  Morgan crouched down and caught Lilly as she all but ran over him. “I know, awesome, right?”

  She showed him the book, her eyes shining more brightly than he could recall seeing in a very, very long time. “Amazing.” She drew out the word, then giggled when he laughed. “Miss Dre is going to stay with me. Miss Kit said you and her are going to get more turtles.”

  “We are. Will you be okay with Miss Dre?”

  Lilly nodded without hesitation, but asked, “Can’t we come, too?”

  “I’m afraid there’s no room. But you can see them when we get back and watch us unload them.”

  Gabe bent down and propped his hands on his knees. “Maybe you and Miss Dre can help us get their tanks set up.”

  Lilly looked at him, her expression one of absolute awe. “Can we?” she asked in a hushed tone.

  “I’ll talk to Miss Greta, and she’ll come get you in a little bit, okay?”

  “Okay,” Lilly said, her expression the kind normally worn by kids on Christmas morning. “Thank you, Dr. Langley.”

  Gabe beamed. “You’re very welcome, my dear. I appreciate the help.”

  “Okay,” Morgan said, “you go on back with Miss Dre. We need to get going.”

  Lilly hugged Morgan tightly, then skipped back through the door to the rehab area, journal still clutched to her chest. Morgan could hear her excitedly telling Dre about their new job.

  He straightened and caught Kit’s expression as she was watching Lilly’s exit. Her face was filled with the amusement of someone utterly charmed, but there was also a look of true affection. Something about the unguarded honesty of her expression caught at him and caused a funny little flutter in his chest.

  “That was a pretty awesome journal Dre made,” she said, turning back to him.

  “She’s very talented.”

  “I know. You should see the apron she designed for me for Babycakes.”

  “I’d like to.” He quickly added, “Lilly wants to come by and see how your shop is coming along. I’ve been trying to explain how it works, but seeing it would probably make it clearer to her.” He smiled. “She’s afraid your feelings will be hurt if we don’t buy your cupcakes, too.”

  “Aw. Sure, that would be fine. We’re done with demo now, so it’s a mess, but not dangerous.”

  “Great. Thanks. And thank you for being so good with her. It means a lot.”

  “Oh, of course. She’s delightful. I enjoy spending time with her.”

  “Um, can I show you the transport truck?” Gabe interrupted.

  “Oh.” Kit’s cheeks turned pink. “Right! Sorry. We were just—”

  “That we were,” Morgan said, shooting a fast wink at Kit, then saluted Gabe. “Lead on, MacLangley. Your turtle transport team is on the job.”

  Chapter 12

  On the way down to Jekyll, Kit sat up front with Morgan. “This is my first time seeing this side of the operation. I didn’t even know he had his own transport truck. Pretty cool, actually.”

  “Used to be an emergency vehicle. Gabe got it at auction a few years ago. Had to overhaul the engine, then had it refurbished to handle a different kind of patient.”

  “Makes sense, really.”

  “Actually, from what he told me, the idea came from a guy here on Sugarberry. Dylan Ross. He runs an auto shop down by the docks on the other end of the island. Gabe said he did most of the work gratis . . . as a contribution to the center. Gabe just paid for parts.”

  “Good idea from a
good guy, then.”

  “From what I hear.” Morgan seemed to get lost in his train of thought for a moment, and she thought he murmured something like “that mechanic dude?” under his breath, but she didn’t question him on it. “You, ah, you know him?” he asked a moment later.

  “Who? The auto mechanic? No, haven’t had the pleasure. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  She cast him a sideways glance, but his attention was on the road, and a smile hovered around his mouth. They fell into an extended silence as Morgan continued to make his way south. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy, either. Much as Kit had been staying focused on getting Babycakes up and running and on her new volunteer work at the center, Morgan had still managed to factor into her thoughts far more often than she’d like to admit. The tension simmering between them was exactly why. It led to restless nights and vivid dreams about things her conscious mind knew better than to explore . . . but with which her subconscious mind was having a veritable field day.

  If she thought about it too much, she’d be squirming in her seat.

  Though it appeared he was going to honor her “casual acquaintances” request, there was still a particular . . . look in his eyes when their gazes connected. It was not quite amused, not quite knowing, or maybe a little of both. Apparently, no matter what social barriers she put up, there was going to be no stopping that heightened sense of awareness they shared.

  Of course, he’d come right out and said he was attracted to her. After she shut that down, she figured a man who looked like he did wouldn’t waste more time on a dead end like her, but would move on to a more willing recipient. Given his looks and his family name . . . finding someone couldn’t be all that challenging. Even on an island as small as Sugarberry.

  She hadn’t heard any whispers to that effect, though. Not that her fellow Cupcake Club bakers would have bothered to whisper. She wished they’d taken the hint as well as Morgan had.

  She hadn’t been certain how she’d feel when she saw him again. He’d been the subject of much chatter in the kitchen, and even more in her own, private deliberations, but none of it had changed her mind. She’d hoped, upon seeing him again, she could be pragmatic.