He doesn’t speak, just stares down at me, his eyes cutting through the darkness. Then he takes a step closer.
He looks hungry; he looks like he wants me. I let go of the door. Jack lifts a hand and touches my cheek. “I’m sorry if this ruins everything, Sheridan. But if I don’t do it now, I have a feeling I’m gonna be sorry.” He brings up his other hand and holds my face, all the while looking at me with those starving dark eyes.
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“What are you doing?” I whisper, but it’s a stupid question, because I already know the answer.
He lowers his head and his lips touch mine. His mouth presses softly, tender but firm, so that I have no doubt it’s happened. Then I feel that same electric current, the one I felt that night at my house, only this time multiplied by a thousand. My eyes snap shut, and I am transported like those people on Star Trek, blown into a million pieces and floating weightless through outer space. And my brain begins to process what is happening: Jack is kissing Sheridan.
Then he stops. He smiles, drops his hands to his sides, and walks away down the alley without a word. A few minutes later, when I hear the crew come back into the kitchen, I force myself to unfreeze and act like nothing happened.
Even though something definitely did. I know this because my legs feel like Jell-O and I can’t focus on what the people around me are saying.
I hear footsteps and look up to see Mr. Roz heading down the alley. Instantly I recall my despicable behavior.
He smiles at me and I wonder how I could have been so cruel to him.
“Oh, Mr. Roz, I’m so sorry.” My hand goes to my mouth.
He swings an arm around my shoulder and squeezes me to his side.
“No need for feel bad,” he says. “I know your heart.” He lets go and opens the door. “You get good film for da TV?”
And that’s it. I’m forgiven.
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I shrug and nod. “I think so.” We walk inside.
I see Dad and Amazon across the room, talking. He touches her a lot, and he laughs a little too loud when she says something. I can’t imagine her saying anything funny ever. My eyes narrow. How dare he tell me all those things about Mom when he flirts with every woman who looks at him.
The crew begins to pack up. Mr. Roz gets to work prepping for the morning, and I start helping him. It’s the least I can do.
“Sheridan,” Dad says from across the room. “Go home, okay? You’ve got school in the morning.”
And now look at him, being all Dad-like while he hits on his new boss. Nice.
I pat Mr. Roz on the back. “Sorry.”
“No sorry. The beauty need her beauty sleep.”
“Good night, Sheridan.” Amazon waves. Now she’s trying to suck up to me?
I lift a hand. “Bye.”
As I walk out of the bakery, into the cool night, I pass the spot near the door where Jack and I kissed. I touch my lips.
Where did he learn how to do that? It was remarkable. It occurs to me that through that entire moment, I didn’t worry once that I was doing it wrong. That was what I always imagined the perfect kiss would be. I just never thought it would be with Jack.
I step across the alley toward home, and a lightbulb clicks 235
on inside of my head. Maybe it’s not such a bad kisser after all; maybe I’ve just been attached to the wrong lips.
The next day, Jack comes up to my locker and grimaces.
“Let me just talk first. You wanna forget that whole thing last night, that’s fine.”
I peer up at him. “Do you want to forget it?”
He smiles. “No.”
I lock my eyes with his, hoping he can read my mind, and the corners of my mouth curl up ever so slightly.
I’m not quite sure what to say or how to say it. All I know is that I would like to kiss him again. But then Ethan walks up beside me in the hall, in all his godlike glory.
Boyfriend, Sheridan. You have a boyfriend.
“Hey.” He captures me in his sweet smile and in his arms like I am the only girl in the whole world. I look at him, all the while watching Jack out of the corner of my eye. Smoke is practically coming out of his ears.
“Hi,” I say.
“You ready for the French test?” Ethan asks, and kisses me. Like yesterday with Haley never even happened.
“Yeah.” I glance sideways at Jack, then look back to Ethan. “You?”
“Yeah, right. Last minute guy, remember?”
At the end of the day, Jack and I walk to art together, slow and quiet. I still think Ethan is handsome. I still want to 236
feel his arm around me between classes. But now there’s this huge thing that’s happened, something that has rocked me down to my bones. And I think Jack knows it.
We get to class just as the bell rings. Mrs. Ely sticks her head out of the door. “Are you two joining us?” she asks. Before I can answer, Ethan swoops in from behind and grabs me around the waist. He swings me around and plants a big kiss on my mouth. Between Jack’s glare and Mrs. Ely staring hard at this blatant PDA, I turn a million shades of red.
“That’s enough.” She points to Ethan. “You. Get to class.”
He answers with his best bad-boy smile before he walks off backward, waving to me, down the hall. That smile usually makes me melt. But at the moment, I’m more embarrassed than melty.
Mrs. Ely eyes me as I walk to my chair and sit down next to Jack, who shakes his head and looks to the front of the classroom.
I can’t win.
At the end of class, Mrs. E asks me to stick around. She waits until everyone else has left the room, then sits down at her desk. I hope Jack’s waiting in the hall for me. We’re still going to the hospital. I think.
“Have you finished the project?” she asks.
“Yes!” I say with enthusiasm. It’s not even due until tomorrow. “It’s right here.” I reach into my bag and give it to her. She takes it and flips through the pages, lingering on one or two.
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“Hmm.” She closes the sketchbook and leans back.
“Have you given any thought to the art camp?”
Oh, come on.
“You know, I have so much going on. You know about my dad’s show. And my grandmother. It’s just been a lot. I’m not sure I’ll have time this summer.”
“Yes, I know you are busy. I’ll give you that. But the ap-plication isn’t due until the end of May. I’ll be happy to help you with it if you like.”
I lift my shoulders to my ears. “I don’t know.”
She huffs and stares at me. “You know something? I know you are the Cake Girl or whatever it is they call you.
But you can also draw. These are incredible.”
I don’t know why she’s getting all bent out of shape. I finished the project; I thought that’s what she wanted.
“I don’t usually nag my students, Sheridan. But you seem to think that the only place you can use your skills is on a cake. Your cakes are remarkable—there’s no doubt about that. But I wish you were more willing to step outside of your comfort zone.”
She flips the book open to the grape hyacinths.
“I see more than ability in this drawing. I see passion. I swear only someone who loves what they are doing can create something like this.”
I cross my arms, not sure what she wants me to say.
“Do you? Do you love it?” She’s asking me this with her eyes all turned up and big, like a stray puppy. “It’s okay to 238
love drawing, you know, and love cakes. You can do both you know.” I am silent. She stands up and sighs. “You don’t have to level with me, but at least be honest with yourself.”
I shake my head. “I’ve really got to go. I’ll think about it, okay? The camp, I mean.”
She hands me the sketchbook. “You know, a true gift isn’t something you do because it pleases other people. It’s something you must do because it fills you up inside.”
“All right.” I hoist my bag onto my shoulder. “Have a go
od night.”
“You, too,” she says to my back.
I practically run from the classroom, scanning the hallway, looking for Jack. He’s down by our lockers, waiting.
“Art camp again?” He seems to have gotten over Ethan and that embarrassing kiss. I’m glad. I need my friend right now.
“She doesn’t know when to give up.”
“You gotta hand it to her; she has good taste.”
“Whatever.”
We walk out to the ancient Corolla that belonged to Jack’s dad back in the days of the dinosaurs. It’s rickety and scares people because it’s so loud, but I’m used to it.
There’s another chem lab due tomorrow, too, so I’ve brought the book with me.
“You want to work as we drive?” I ask.
“Look at you, not waiting until the last minute.” Ah.
A dig at Ethan. He pulls out of the parking lot and winds 239
through town toward the road to Grand Rapids.
I rattle off questions from the textbook, though I barely pay attention to my own words. I think of Ethan kissing me in the hallway like that and bristle. In front of my teacher.
In front of Jack. That was not cool. I wonder if I even have the guts to talk to him about it later, when we meet at the harbor.
As I reach down and grab my notebook from my bag, Jack’s bracelet jiggles on my wrist. He smiles big. I feel a twinge of guilt. He wouldn’t be smiling if he knew about my date with Ethan later.
I stare out of the window and sigh. What am I going to do with these two?
“Why a bird?” I ask, the chem book lying useless on my lap.
“Bird?”
“Yeah, why’d you pick a bird charm?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Just reminded me of you.” He shifts the car, and I listen to the gears grind.
“Why?”
“I dunno.” We stop at a light. “I guess even when we were kids, I thought you’d be the one to, you know”—he flaps his hand and laughs—“fly away or whatever. Always seemed like you could do anything, be anything, go anywhere. That’s why I got it. It reminded me of you.”
“That’s weird.”
“Why?”
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“Because I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“That’s what you say.” He shifts again. “But I don’t believe you.”
“Oh. That’s nice.”
“Hey.” He points to the chem book in my lap. “Lab.”
I turn back to the book. We don’t say a non-chemistry word to each other the rest of the way to the hospital, and by the time we pull into the parking garage, the lab is done. I even mostly understand it, I think.
The sight of the tall building and the big automatic doors makes me forget all about my romantic issues, and my stomach does a weird jig. I look at Jack.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m nervous.” The doors open as we walk in.
“Don’t be.” He grabs my hand. He’s never held my hand in all the years that we’ve known each other. But I don’t pull away.
She’s on the fourth floor, and visiting hours end in twenty minutes. A cranky-looking nurse asks who we are, then calls another nurse, who seems nicer.
“I’ll take you to see her,” she says, looking at Jack. “Only family, sweetheart.” She points to a row of chairs behind us.
Jack squeezes my hand, pressing the bird charm into my palm. He lets go and sits down.
The nurse escorts me down a dimly lit hallway. “Lilian?”
she calls, and raps lightly on a door. “Are you up for a visitor?”
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“Who is it?” I hear her voice, but it’s not loud and booming like usual. It sounds weak and watery. I follow the nurse and stop short when I see Nanny. She looks a hundred years old and shrunken to half her size in that big hospital bed.
“Hi.” I am stuck to the floor.
“Get over here, girl,” she whispers. “You look scared as a wild turkey on Thanksgiving morning. Gosh sakes, come here and give me a hug. I’m not gonna break.”
I do what she says, but it seems like just saying those words has worn her out. She smiles big, but when I hug her, I am very careful. There are tubes and wires coming out of her every which way. The nurse has left the room. It’s just the two of us.
Since Dad told me that story of the time I stayed with Nanny as a kid, memories have come back to me in bits and pieces. I do remember some of it. Like the fact that I was really confused. I missed Mom and Dad. But at the same time, I always felt safe and totally loved with Nanny.
She pats the bed and I sit next to her. She reaches for my hand. “I’m gonna be just fine, sweetheart. Now you gotta get that look off your face. You’re scarin’ the bejesus out of me. Do I really look that bad?”
“No. You don’t look so bad.”
“Oh. Not so bad. Well, that’s better than six feet under, I s’pose.” She breathes deeply a few times. “Just so you know, they say if I take care of myself from here on out, my ticker’ll last a hundred years.”
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“Good.”
I look across the room to the windows that overlook Grand Rapids. It’s getting dark.
“Saw your daddy today. Told me he talked to you.” She pats my hand.
I nod. “Yeah. We talked all right.”
“He’s got a bee in his bonnet about you.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’m not going to New York. It’s not something you should worry about.”
“Oh, I’m not worried, because I know my girl ain’t no dummy. She might be stubborn, but she ain’t no dummy.”
I turn back to her, look in her eyes and smirk. “Was that a compliment?”
She laughs quietly, until the laugh becomes a cough.
When she finally settles down, she smiles. “I’m sayin’ you’re bullheaded like your grandmother. But you’d better remember what I’ve taught you. Darlin’, your plans are just plain puny. You can’t even imagine the life that is out there waiting for you.”
I shrug, unable to imagine anything better than making cakes in St. Mary and having my mother and father in my life at the same time.
“Nanny? Do you think Mom still loves me?” I touch her hand, hold it in mine, will her to say yes.
“Course she does.” She is breathing heavier and sounds so tired. The beeping sound behind us is keeping rhythm with her heart. “But you know some people just don’t know 243
how to show it.”
“You think that’s a good enough excuse?”
Nanny pats my hand. “No. It’s not good enough. But sweetie, I can’t speak for your mother. All I know is that I adore you. And I want the world for you.”
The bracelet on my wrist catches her eye. She touches it.
“What’s this?”
I lift my wrist and touch the bird. “A present. From Jack.”
She reaches out for the charm and reads it as I bring it in closer. “Dream. Isn’t that nice? What a sweet gift.”
The nurse walks back into the room, starts to mess with a machine by the bed. “Time for your meds, Lilian.”
Nanny looks at me. “I am getting a little tired. You should probably go home, baby girl.”
“I don’t want to leave.” I hold her hand tighter.
“Don’t worry. These folks say I’ll be ready for home on Sunday. Can you believe that? Huh! Modern medicine.” She laughs and then winces. “Go and do your TV show. I can’t wait to see it.” I roll my eyes, but she pokes at my bracelet.
“No, no, don’t roll those eyes. You’ve got to dream big, darlin’. Don’t be afraid to dream big.”
I stand up, lean over, and kiss her soft, sunken cheek.
“Love you,” I say. But she’s already asleep.
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Chapter 20
other fish in the sea
Jack drives me home. He seems to guess that I don’t want to talk, which is good, because he is right. That’s one of the perks of having a best fri
end since forever. He turns on some mellow music, and I watch my reflection in the passenger window.
I am trying to make sense of everything that’s happened.
Trying to understand why Mom hasn’t called me back. I am so confused.
We pull up to the house. The parking lot is almost empty, which never happens on a Wednesday night. But the restaurant is closed through the weekend because of the show.
I shiver suddenly, afraid that I’m seeing the future: Dad in New York, the restaurant gone, Nanny weak and old. Our little triangle destroyed.
I notice the lights are on in the front room of the house.
Jack doesn’t make a move to kiss me again, which I think is very gentlemanly. But I lean across with my hand out-stretched, touch his cheek, and pull his face to mine. Our lips touch, and once again, my body is zapped with electric charges. So it wasn’t a one-time thing. He smiles. But I still don’t know what all this means. Ethan’s face pops into my mind. If only he wasn’t so good looking.
“See you at school,” I say, pushing open the door and stepping from the car. “Thanks for taking me.”
Jack grabs my hand. “It’s going to be okay, you know,” he says across the darkness.
He sounds so sure. I hope he’s right.
“Yup. Okay,” I say. I close the door, then walk up the front steps and into the house. Dad and the Suits are sitting in the front room. It’s like walking into a spiderweb, and I’m a big, juicy bug. My eyes scan the faces, and I notice there are a few extra Suits. Great, they’re multiplying.
“Here she is.” Amazon stands and walks toward me.
“Here’s Sheridan. And how is Grammy?”
“Nanny.”
“Yes. Nanny. How is she?”
“She’s fine.” But Amazon is not really listening. She escorts me to the sofa.
“Sheridan, I’d like to introduce you to Bob Fisher, the president of ExtremeCuisine TV.”
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This old guy with snow-white hair stands up, holds out his hand. “Ah, the famous Cake Girl of St. Mary. That’s what they call you, I hear?”
I nod and force my mouth into a half smile.
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