Take the Cake

by Sandra Wright

  “Probably two weeks,” Kate replied. “Wren, we’ll need to make up some kind of sign to give people the heads up.”

  “Already on it,” Wren replied. “I figured we’d put notices up in the windows and a smaller version on the tables, so I’ll bring them in soon.”

  “Let me know when your first weekend is going to be, and I’ll come install those magazine racks for you,” Paul offered.

  Kate brightened at that. “You’ve got them good to go?” She walked over and gave him a hug. “How do they look?”

  Paul hugged her back. “The copper polished up beautifully. The place is going to look great. Which reminds me …” He released Kate and fished in one of the pockets on his cargo pants. “I found these for you the other day.” He pulled out some octagonal pieces of cardboard and handed them over.

  Kate accepted them, looking puzzled, and then started to laugh. “Where did you get these? I love them!”

  Paul looked pleased. Wren and Emily came forward to have a look, and Kate handed them over.

  “Old Speckled Hen,” Emily read aloud, and she began to laugh. Wren reached out for one as Emily finished reading. They were English beer coasters, and each one featured the same gentleman fox wearing a red hunting jacket, with a different slogan on each.

  “This one’s my favorite,” Wren said, holding one up that showed the fox looking very pleased under the slogan: Nothing slips down easier than a hen with no bones. “What are you going to do with them?”

  “Oh, they’re going to have to be framed. What a foxy whiskered gentleman he is,” exclaimed Kate, a broad smile of delight on her face. “They can be hung up next to my fox. It’ll be a great little display.” She nodded toward the fox print on the wall and gave Paul a grin. “Thanks for these.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Paul, smiling with delight at the pleasure they had brought to his sister. He’d found them in a bar when he’d been having a drink with some friends, and had known immediately that they would appeal to her quirky sense of humor. Paul leaned against the counter as the others kept working awhile longer before Wren and Emily announced that they were leaving for the day.

  “See you tomorrow, boss,” they chorused from the door, giggling as Kate rounded on them.

  “Get outta here,” she called. “Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out!” She turned back with a chuckle to see Paul giving her a quizzical look. “It’s an ongoing joke,” she explained.

  “Ah,” he said. He hefted the bag of takings. “You want me to drop this off in the night safe?”

  “Would you mind?” Kate said with relief. “That’d save me a trip.”

  “No problem, it’s on my way home.”

  “I owe you,” she said with a grateful smile.

  ~~~

  Kate had waved Paul off and was pulling out a chair at one of the tables to wait for Michael when she heard a knock on the front window. She looked up to see Michael peering through the glass, his face breaking into a smile as she stood up from the table and walked over to let him in. He stepped into the store, smiling down at her and then around the empty store with an expression of faint wonder on his face.

  “It’s so quiet,” he commented.

  “The people make a big difference,” Kate agreed, “but a bit of peace and quiet never goes astray.”

  Michael looked at her peaceful expression. “You really love it, don’t you?”

  She gave him a surprised look. “Shouldn’t I?”

  “Of course,” he said. “But it’s not just a business venture for you, it’s a passion.” He looked around the store. “I mean, just look at the place. It’s amazing.”

  “You’re the second person to say that,” Kate replied. “Emily was saying the same thing earlier. She thinks this place is part home, part bakery, and part gallery.”

  “And she’s right,” Michael said. “And it’s very you.”

  Kate gave an embarrassed laugh. “And what’s that?”

  He took a step closer, reaching out to take her hand. “It’s warm …” His thumb made a slow circle on her hand. “… welcoming …” He dipped his head. “… and sweet.” He brushed his lips across hers, and Kate’s eyes closed as she leaned in for more. The kiss was very soft and over before Kate was ready for it to be.

  Michael pulled away, still holding her hand and gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling and reaching back to the table to pick up her bag.

  He waited while she locked the door, and then took her hand and set a leisurely pace as they walked.

  “So how was the rest of your afternoon?” he asked after a short pause.

  “Long,” said Kate, looking up as he chuckled.

  The streets were still busy as commuters made their way home from the working day, and Michael charted a careful course through the crowd, shielding Kate from being jostled. By the time they got to the next corner, Michael had taken to walking with Kate’s hand held up against his chest, and she was close to his side. Their conversation ebbed and flowed, and they seemed equally content to fall into an easy quiet now and then. The light changed, and the crowd surged forward.

  “Are you in a hurry to get home?” Michael asked as they reached the curb on the other side.

  Kate thought for a moment. “I guess not. Why?”

  Michael’s eyes crinkled at her. “How do you feel about a pre-date date?”

  Kate’s mouth twisted into an amused smile. “You need a warm-up?”

  “Well, given you told me in advance you were going to say yes, I figure a practice date can’t hurt.”

  Kate ducked her head and giggled, then looked back up at him, feeling carefree. “This is crazy, but sure, why not?”

  “Great. Come on.” Michael kept walking, leading them up West 4th Street. Kate looked ahead down the block, and then up at Michael. “Washington Square Park?” she guessed.

  “Well done,” Michael replied. “I figured we’ve got time for a bit of a walk there before I see you safely home.”

  “I love that park,” Kate enthused. “The dog runs there are wonderful.”

  “You have a dog?” Michael looked at her in surprise.

  “No,” Kate said with a rueful smile. “But I go there when I need some unconditional canine love. It’s a wonderful tonic.”

  “I’ll have to remember that,” Michael mused.

  Soon they entered the park and were happy to stroll along the pathways until they found a park bench that wasn’t occupied.

  “Shall we?” Michael gestured toward the bench, and Kate nodded. They took a seat, and Kate adjusted her bag to a more comfortable position against her hip as she sat.

  “So what did you get up to this afternoon?” Kate asked after a brief pause.

  Michael shrugged. “A bit of writing,” he said.

  “Anything good?”

  “It’s a bit too early to tell, but I’m enjoying it all the same.” He paused. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to get anything down. Not long ago just writing a grocery list would have been a literary achievement.”

  “Ah, you had a block?” Kate asked in a sympathetic tone.

  “Massive,” Michael sighed.

  “Sounds awful.”

  “It was, but it’s getting better now.”

  “Then I’m glad for you,” she said.

  Michael looked down at her with a brief smile, and then they both went back to gazing at the park vista. After an infinitesimal pause, he carefully lifted his arm up and around Kate’s shoulders, resting his hand on her upper arm. “This okay?”

  “Better than,” she agreed, and Michael stilled as Kate settled her head against his shoulder.

  “So keep talking,” Kate encouraged. “What happened? How did you get writer’s block in the first place?”

  Michael grimaced. “I guess one day I woke up and realized I didn’t like what I was writing.” He sighed and looked down, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Then I began to hat
e it, and then …” He looked at Kate and shrugged. “One morning I woke up and discovered I had absolutely nothing to say. The words were just … gone.”

  They both sat there in silence for a while.

  “It was like that for me, losing Jack,” Kate ventured in a quiet voice. “One minute he and I were talking, just driving into town, nothing special, and then …” Her voice wavered for a moment before she continued, “and then …”

  “Do you remember anything?” Michael asked, intrigued that someone so small and vital could carry the weight of so much pain.

  Kate shook her head against his shoulder. “No. Paul told me later that they’d had to cut the car open to get me out,” she went on in a faraway voice. “We got hit on Jack’s side, and the car was pushed into a telephone pole. By the time help got to us, they knew that Jack was gone, but I was still alive.”

  Michael rested his cheek on the top of her head, rubbing his hand on her arm, cupping her other hand as he pulled her closer.

  Kate closed her eyes, still talking. “The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital, and just like that, everything I knew would never be the same again.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Michael murmured.

  “You know what I keep thinking about, though?”

  “What?”

  “Jack’s last words. I was teasing him about a song on the radio. He used to torment Paul and me as kids by getting song lyrics wrong on purpose, so the last thing I remember is Jack singing along to the Beatles.” She paused and began to sing in a soft voice, “Lucy knows this guy with lions …”

  Despite the somber conversation, Michael’s shoulders twitched in amusement at the thought of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” getting butchered in the name of dad humor.

  Kate lifted her head to look at him. “I know, right? Not the most profound last words for a lifetime, huh?”

  “No,” he agreed. “But you have to admit that it gives his life joy.” Michael gazed down at Kate’s open face and continued, “There are worse ways to go out of this life, and I think going out singing is pretty good.”

  Kate blinked at him. “You know, I’d never thought of it like that.” She looked at him for a long moment, and then rested her head against his shoulder again. “Thanks,” she said at last. “That really helps.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied.

  The two of them sat quietly, watching the procession of pedestrians and dog walkers that ebbed and flowed through the park. The sun was beginning to set, and they found themselves watching the colors of the park shift from the warm hues of the day to the cooler tones of dusk. The conversation between them moved from one topic to the next, and after a while the two of them drifted into a contented silence.

  “Sometimes,” Kate ventured after a long moment, “there’s a lot to be said for a companionable silence.”

  A rumble of amusement came from Michael’s chest. “Isn’t that a contradiction?”

  He felt Kate’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. “I was hoping you wouldn’t pick up on that.”

  Michael found himself glancing from the park vista to Kate’s head resting near his chest. A companionable silence: he’d never really taken note of the phrase before and yet here he was with a woman that gave him silence and words in equal and satisfying measure. Michael began to relax enough that he almost jolted when Kate’s voice roused him from his reverie.

  “Michael,” she said in a quiet voice, “how long have you been writing?”

  “Ever since I could, I suppose.” Michael frowned for a moment as he tried to remember. “Mom said I was always quiet, so growing up the only child of academics, it’s no surprise that books were always a good companion.”

  “True,” Kate agreed. “You’re never alone if you’ve got a book.”

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “After college, Mom went through some papers of mine, one thing led to another, and about eighteen months after that, I was published. People wanted more, so I kept writing. The rest of my life had to be scheduled in around publication dates.” He gave a small chuff of laughter. “And then suddenly I found that I’d been writing for twelve years that had flown by, but had no idea what to do with my own time.”

  “Ah.” Kate nodded. “You got busy burning up the decade when you should’ve seized the day.”

  Michael gave her a startled look. “You were the same?”

  “A little, although not the same extent as you. I was always looking to the future, always trying to plan my next step. I studied literature at college and was thinking about teaching. When I lost Jack, though, it made me realize that it’s about making each day important, because you never know when they’re going to stop.”

  “Is that why you and Wren do the special cupcakes and chalkboard quotes every day?”

  She nodded, and some hair fell across her face. Michael watched as she hooked the strands with her fingers and tucked them back behind her ears, the movement setting the moonstones at her ears dancing.

  “It might only be a small thing, but it’s my way of celebrating each day.”

  “I think it’s beautiful,” Michael replied.

  The day was drawing to a close by the time Michael and Kate began to make their way out of the park. They both walked at an easy pace, holding hands and talking with an easy intimacy. What had begun as a friendship was fast becoming something more, a fact the two of them were aware of. Neither of them felt compelled to rush into anything, and their mutual exploration of each other’s personalities added to the pleasure of anticipation.

  “Here you are, safe and sound,” Michael commented as they drew to a halt in front of Kate’s apartment.

  “Thanks.” Kate smiled. “I enjoyed our walk; it was a great way to finish the day.”

  “Maybe we could do it again sometime?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow with a slight smile, enjoying the flush of color that the fresh air had brought to her cheeks.

  “I’d like that,” Kate replied. Now she was confused. It hadn’t been a date, but they had just spent a couple of hours together, walking, talking, and taking in the sights that the park and the city had to offer. Should she invite him upstairs? Would he say yes? What if he said no? She bit her lip in confusion, looking up when Michael began to speak.

  “So, I guess this is the part where I leave you to enjoy your evening,” Michael said, twining their fingers together and giving her a gentle tug to bring her a step closer toward him.

  “Something like that,” she agreed.

  “It seems a shame, though, to let you go without wishing you a good night,” he said softly.

  “Well, when you put it that way,” she said, pretending to give the suggestion careful consideration, “it seems only fair that we end on a good note.”

  Michael dipped his head toward hers, and Kate noticed just before her eyes fluttered closed that they were both smiling. The kiss was soft and sweet. Their lips met and broke apart, returning again and again. Kate felt the tip of Michael’s tongue brush gently against her lips, and she parted them slightly to allow him access. He tasted her carefully before breaking away and resting his forehead against hers for a moment.

  “Good night, Kate,” he said, reaching up to brush her hair off her face.

  “And to you,” she replied, her eyes drowsy. With great effort, she moved to walk up the stairs, pausing at the top to look back and wave.

  Once inside, she got changed and began fixing dinner, her mind replaying the conversation with Michael in the park as she began humming. “Lucy knows this guy with lions …,” she sang in a quiet voice with a sad smile on her face. “Oh, Jack,” she sighed. She wished he could have seen the success her bakery had become. She wished he was still around to see the “heart family” of friends she had surrounded herself with. Jack had always impressed upon Kate and Paul the importance of family, particularly as they had so few relatives to call their own.

  “Most people don’t have a choice who they get in their family, but
you guys do,” Jack had told them with a twinkle. “Friends are the family that you choose for yourself.”

  Taking his advice, Kate had set about acquiring a heart family of her own, which included people like Wren and Thomas, and now Michael. She wondered what Jack would have thought of him. Michael was a friend, or at least he had begun as such. Now she could feel herself standing on the precipice of something more.

  There was a lot yet to learn about Michael, but she had a feeling Jack would have approved of their mutually careful approach. She remembered some advice Jack had given her, and her smile dipped for a moment. The cream began to bubble as the salmon danced across the surface of the pan, and she picked up the wooden spoon to stir it, hoping for some distraction, but the memory, once unlocked, unraveled and began to play as she sipped at her glass of wine.

  “Kat,” Jack had begun, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, a sure sign he was nervous. Kate had looked at him, waiting for him to speak. “You know that since your mother passed, we’ve never really had any deep conversations.”

  “We said what’s been needed to be said, Jack,” Kate had said in a gentle voice. It was true enough. While Jack had never been big on conversation, since Gwen’s passing, the three remaining members of the family—Jack, Paul, and Kate—had always made sure to voice “I love you” whenever they could. Jack might have been of the “if you don’t have anything to say, keep your trap shut” school, but when he spoke, his words stuck in the heart.

  “Well, just give an old guy a chance here.” Jack had smiled. “I don’t know what I’ll do at retirement, hell, I might not even make it that far,” he had joked, pausing when Kate’s face went white. “Life can be long or short, but it’s the quality of the hours in between, you know that, right?”

  “Right,” Kate had agreed, wondering where the conversation was going.

  “I just …” He paused, then started again. “I just wanted to pass on one bit of advice. It’s what my dad told me, and the old man was right, so I figure it might do my kids some good as well.” He reached out and took Kate’s hand, holding it between his own, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. His hands were warm and calloused and smelled slightly of a curious combination of gun oil and fish. “When you do meet the right man and you want to make a life together, make sure you’re friends in the bargain.”