“Thanks for coming with me.”
“Thanks for bringing me.” She’s showed me the center of her heart and I promise to take care of it. “And thanks for bringing me into your life. I don’t deserve you, but I’ll spend my days making up for it.” She playfully swats me arm.
“Shut up, Sam. Of course, you deserve me. We deserve each other.” Her hand stays on my arm, comfortingly rubbing it. We sit quietly for a few seconds and I take another look around the place. It has so much potential. Its décor is nice, but a little outdated. It was probably a hotspot back in the day and with Zara as the baker and some renovations, I bet we could get this up and running. We, huh? Before I jump the gun and start planning out a whole new bakery, I should probably ask if I’d be allowed to be a part of the updating process.
“Zara?”
“Mmhm.” Her words are lazy, our trip having been a long one. I touch the hand on my arm and bring it to my lips.
“I have another proposition for you.” This piques her interest. Her eyes light up, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about.
“What is it?”
“I want to help you fix up the bakery. I think it could be amazing again. I mean, the way you talk about it – with you here, there’s no way it’ll fail.” There’s a smile dancing at the edge of lips, not quite making its debut just yet.
“And what’s it going to cost me, Mr. Wood?” It’s not an accusatory or angry question. In fact, she sounds amused. I’m guessing she’s expecting me to make some kind of lewd request, but I have something on the complete other end of the spectrum in mind.
“It’ll cost you nothing, Miss. Coleman. In fact, you don’t even have to help me with the cake for my Mom’s party.” She seems taken aback by my suggestion, even going so far as to remove her hand from my body.
“Don’t you even dare! I wouldn’t abandon you like that. I’m not helping you because I feel like I owe you. I’m helping you because I love helping people.” I should have known she couldn’t leave me like. Zara is too caring a person, but she adds more. “And I especially love helping you. I’ll never stop.” What I need to stop doing is doubting the way Zara feels about me. She’s told me time and time again that she cares about me and I need to act like it.
“Well, then let’s shake on it.” She leans back slightly, her eyebrow hinting at her confusion, but her lips exposing her amusement. The two of us get up and I hold out my hand, waiting for her fingers to wrap around it. Once she does, I start with a handshake, but then I pull her into a hug, her face tilted up, so I can kiss her. She happily obliges and kisses me back. We break apart, our bodies still touching. “It’s a deal.” Zara laughs and pecks my lips.
“It’s a deal,” she echoes back to me. Almost immediately we get to work. The next two weeks are spent collaborating on ideas. Zara is receptive to everything I have to offer and this feels like a true partnership, something I’m not sure I ever had.
We also bake a lot. We’re still getting ready for my Mom’s birthday and while I’m getting better at baking – Zara even joked and said one of the more recent cakes I made was better than hers. I thought she was just being nice – she did laugh while saying it, but she laughs while saying a lot of things. She’s a very happy person. I still don’t think it was true, but I am pretty impressed with myself.
Right now, we’re trying to figure out the kind of cake I’ll bring to my Mom’s birthday. Zara is having m write down all the things she likes. At first, I thought it was just going to be what she liked to eat – it is a cake after all – but Zara told me write down whatever comes to mind. The list ended up being quite long – and revealing. Having all of my mother’s interest on a piece of paper gave me some insight into her I didn’t really have before.
Once it’s done, I hand the list to Zara. She scans it, circling a few items. She puts it down on the table and I get to see what she’s think.
“So, I’ve circled what I think we could use and drawn lies between potential combinations. An idea I had for your sister’s cake was to do alternating layers, so make two batters and do one on top of the other. You wrote down a few fruits and it could work with some fruity combos. Another idea is – you have pearls written down – so something with a bit of a bite, but with a nice soothing frosting. I know that sounds weird, but we can bring that out in the flavor. We can also use decorations to elicit a certain mood or feeling or object. There’s really a lot of wiggle room.” This is where Zara truly sets herself a part as a baker. She puts so much thought into what she makes.
We settle on making my mother a cake inspired by her time in Italy. We’ll be drawing inspiration from cannoli and gelato. It all sounds rather complicated, but Zara is going to help me out with bringing this vision to life, so I don’t have any apprehension towards this undertaking. I don’t have any apprehension about any part of my life concerning her part in it.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Zara
Today is Sam’s Mom’s birthday. The cake we ended up making came out perfect. I didn’t tell Sam exactly how complicated this particular cake would be. I could tell he was a little overwhelmed by all the instructions I was listing, but once we got down to actually making the cake – he was like a pro. Honestly, it’s amazing how quickly Sam picked up on baking. He has a real knack for it.
We got to the venue early, so we can surprise everyone with the cake. I hide it somewhere and when I return to Sam, I see him with his sister. She’s alone and she looks like she’s had a tough time lately. I don’t want to impose on their family moment, but the two of them see me and don’t look away, so I walk over.
“Hi, Sarah.” She smiles at me, but I can tell she’s a little sad.
“Zara! Sam has been telling me so much about you. I’m so happy for you two. At least something nice came out of my wedding.” The tears she was holding back start to stream down her face. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to hold it all back, but – ugh! I hate wasting so may tears on that asshole. Turns out he was in love with somebody else the entire time and, lucky for him, unlucky for me, she left whoever she was with and they could be together.” Sam brings her into a soft hug and she leans her forehead on his chest. He rubs her back, quietly saying,
“Everything is going to be okay. You were too good for him anyway. Who is Neil?” This gets a soft chuckle and Sarah brings her face back up, wiping away the tears.
“Uh, I told myself I wouldn’t cry today and I break my promise almost immediately. Don’t let me do it again.” She seems to be feeling better and then turns he attention to me, leaving Sam’s arms to come and gab. “Zara, you have to tell me how you got this beast of a man to settle down. And baking – oh my god! I never would have guessed.” She wraps an arm around my shoulder and starts to lead me in a different direction, deeper into the party. I turn back a look at Sam, but he shrugs, so it looks like I’m going to be bonding with Sarah.
“Yeah. He asked me to teach him some things.” We’re at the bar and Sarah orders us each a mimosa. I sip at it, not wanting to let the alcohol go to my head.
“He’s like a totally different person. I mean, he’s still the same Sam, but he’s like the best parts of himself now. He’s Sam 2.0.” I turn my eyes to the ground, a little embarrassed with all this talk about Sam. I’m not used to having people to talk to about things like this – at least people apart from my Mom. Nellie and Steph have been trying to get details out of me – and I’ve told them a few things – but I’m still a little shy.
“I think he’s great.” I feel my cheeks heating up and curse myself for being so easy to get off-kilter. Sarah sees this and nods.
“I see. You don’t want to tell the sister all the dirty details. We can still dish – just maybe keep the bedroom stuff for your other friends.” Sarah says this with a comforting hand on my shoulder and I’m able to shed some of my vague exterior. Maybe I can be friends with her. I had thought I would never make any friends – and then Nellie and Steph popped up in my life. Sa
rah would be a nice addition.
“I’ll do my best to keep the gross details to myself.” Sarah makes a face and then laughs.
“Ugh, I just imagined my brother being gross in bed,” she faux shivers. I start to get comfortable with her and the two of us laugh until Sam calls us over.
“Mama Wood is on her way. I need you to let everyone know, so we can prepare for her grand entrée.” Sarah and I go around telling the guests that Wynonna is on her way and when she enters, everyone has their eyes on her, witnessing her walk in. She really is gracefulness to a t. This is only the second time I’m meeting her and the impression she is leaving is pure elegance.
She hugs both of her children and thanks everyone for attending her birthday. Sam says he has a little surprise and he takes her over to the hidden cake. While Sam wheels it out, I watch as his Mom gets excited. He reveals our finished product and she claps with delight.
“Oh, Sam! I see you went for a theme. Italy, I’m guessing.” She goes to his side and he brings her into a side hug. I love watching how much this family loves one another. It reminds me of how close I was with my own mother.
Sam cuts his Mom the first slice and she takes a satisfied bite. Her face lights up and I know we got it just right. The two of them keep talking just with one another while Sarah and I cut each guest a piece of cake. Then, the two of us go to stand with the talkative two. They turn to us when we get to them.
“Sarah, darling, I was just asking your brother where he got this magnificent cake. Have you tried it? It’s amazing.” Sam’s gone a little quiet and I wonder why he hasn’t told his Mom that it’s his homemade gift to her yet. Before he or I can say anything, she asks me a question. “I remember you,” she says, point with her fork. “You were one of the bakers at the wedding. Did you make this?” I’m about to reveal all, but, thankfully, Sam beats me to it. It’s his moment.
“Mom. Um, I made it. I mean, Zara helped, immensely – which is why it’s a delicious as it is – but yeah. I’ve been taking lessons with her and we made it,” he admits it finally.
“Oh, Sam.” She throws her arms around him and mother and son share a heartfelt hug and moment for what feels like some time.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Sam
I showed my Mom the cake. I fed my Mom the cake. I told her I was the one who made it and she was happier than I could have ever imagined. She was amazed by how it’s taste and I was equally that it came out… so well. While baking, Zara was telling how everything we were doing was going to affect the taste, what it would bring out in terms of texture. Every time I bake with Zara, it’s a complete experience.
And the cake wasn’t just a hit with my Mom, but everyone who came has come to congratulate Zara on it and she always directs towards me, saying how did most of the work. Today has been kind of a weird for me. I’ve never done something like this – and I don’t know what that says about my past self that I’ve never done something so… selfless – and it feels really good. Even without everyone praising the cake, I’m pretty sure I’d feel the exact same way. When Zara and I were making it, I had this warm feeling and it’s making me want to continue putting myself out there for others, doing things to make them feel good.
Zara has been going between staying by my side and hanging out with my sister. I love seeing Sarah accept her without a second thought. That’s my sister, always making friends. And Zara seems to like her back. They’re off again, laughing in some corner together, when my Mom walks back over to me, her arms open for a hug.
“Sam, Sam, my Sammy boy.” She brings me into a hug, this one really tight. It feels like an apology, but I want to see what she has to say. “I have to say this party is magnificent. I can’t believe you pulled it off. And that cake – it’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted before.” We’ve broken apart and we’re standing by the food table, watching the guest mingle. She turns her body completely towards me, sectioning us off.
“I’d do anything for you, Mom. I hope you know that.” She puts her hand on my forearm, patting it gently.
“I do, son. I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you at Sarah’s wedding. I think I was also mad at myself. I never wanted you to think you had to fill your father’s shoes. That’s not what children do.” The way she explains it makes sense, but I don’t fault her for saying what she did because she was right. I wasn’t living my life as a considerate person – even if I thought I was doing a better job.
“Don’t blame yourself. You only told me what you thought I needed to hear.” I’m going to say more, but my Mom keeps going.
“Even if you needed to hear it, I could have packaged it a little nicer.”
“Well, what’s done is done. I’m happy – and I mean, legitimately happy for once. I’d always thought I’d been living the way I should, but this past month, I learned a lot about myself and what I want. There is so much I have to tell you.” She doesn’t really know about Zara and I am dying to tell her, but there are a few things I have to take care of first.
“I look forward to hearing all about it.” She rejoins the party, putting on the signature Wynonna Wood hosting hat. My Mom has always been one for parties. She is a true socialite. I find Zara with Sarah and ask to talk to her alone for a bit. Sarah acquiesces, kind of picking up what I’m putting down.
Zara and I go to a private hallway, getting away from the fray. I’ve learned to appreciate the quiet a lot more – and by that, I mean, I’ve learned to appreciate a shared quiet space. Zara looks at me, her body standing close to mine.
“You wanted to tell me something?” Her voice does that lilting thing – the thing for when she’s teasing me, but also extremely curious. I mimic her speech pattern, joining in on the game.
“I do want to tell you something.” She picks up on game almost immediately. Her eyes narrow mischievously and I get a little worried for myself. Zara has proven herself to be a master when it comes to teasing me.
“What did you want to tell me?” I take a deep breath and realize this is going to be a lot harder than I anticipated. I didn’t try to plan any words because I wanted it to all come from my heart. Because of that, I’m starting to panic a little. I’m very aware of how Zara feels towards me, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bare my soul. She can tell I’m worried and she drops the pretenses. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to tell you – I wanted to tell you…” I have a few false starts before finally getting it out. “I wanted to tell you that I, Sam, would like you, Zara, my muse,” she laughs at my use of the word, muse, but she doesn’t say anything, “and I want you in my life.” Gingerly, she puts her hand on my chest, her fingers slightly curled.
“I want you in my life, too.” I put my hand on top of her, wrapping my fingers around her palm.
“It’s more than that. I need you in my life – and not just to bake cakes, though that is a perk. Us baking together and not just cakes – we could do pies or tarts – but that’s a tangent I didn’t mean to go on. What I’m trying to say is I want to be with you forever because I love you. Does that make sense?” I feel dumb for not being able to not ramble. And now I’m thinking in double negatives and my entire sense of confident self is shattered just a little – a crack in the corner at the very least.
But Zara doesn’t focus on the mess of a speech I made. Instead she comes right up to my body, throwing her hands around me, and getting on her tiptoes to kiss me. It’s a quick peck, but it helps me calm down. Something I desperately needed to do. The back of her hand rubs the side of my face and she tells me exactly what I want to hear.
“I love you, too.” I lean down and give her a proper kiss – one that gets her laughing and pushing into me. I wrap my arms around her waist and pick her up for a quick twirl. A flight of whimsy – something I’m not prone to – but with Zara anything seems possible.
Epilogue
It’s opening day for what is formerly Baker’s Corner. Renamed Sam’s Place, Sam and I have been getting the place ready fo
r almost a year. We did a soft opening about a month back, mainly inviting close family and friends. They all loved the place and I couldn’t be happier with how everything is going.
Currently, I’m in the bakery by myself. Sam is out, picking up a few things we’ll be needing. While I’m making the finishing touches, I hear a knock at the door. I turn to see who’s here – because I’m not expecting anyone and Sam has a key – and see Dani behind the glass. I waddle over – because I’m eight months pregnant and about to burst. Unlocking the door, I let Dani in. She gives me as big of a hug as she can in my state and I tell her to come sit down.
I know what you’re probably thinking – is this the same Dani from my dinner date with Sam? She is, but it’s easy to explain. When Sam and I had those few days a part, I called Dani because she was the only person I knew who an idea what I felt like. She was so empathetic and nice to me – we became fast friends. And then Sam and I got back together, but Dani wasn’t mad or jealous – in fact, she was happy for me. She had told me she thought there was something extra special between Sam and me. Long story short, I just couldn’t drop her as a friend. It had only been a couple days, but we had gotten really close. At first, Sam felt kind of weird about it. He thought Dani had some kind of long con plan to mess with us, but he came around when she proved to be a great friend.
Anyway, the two of us are sitting, talking away while I wait for Sam to return.
“Oh, Zara! I’m so happy for you. You’re about to reopen the bakery, there’s a bun in the oven – pun most definitely intended – and I can see that you’re happy inside and out. You deserve all this happiness you know that?” I lightly laugh at Dani’s enthusiasm. She’s always showering me with praise. She says it’s to maintain a high self-esteem for me which is something I totally buy. She’s the type to have a plan to keep my spirits high with scheduled compliments. That doesn’t make them feel any less heartfelt.
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