She stared at the stick for another second before climbing to her feet. The candy trembled in her grip. She started for the door to her chamber, then stopped, turning toward the door that connected her chamber with Daniel’s. Heart pounding, she moved toward the door and reached up over the jamb for the brass key. She transferred the candy to her left hand and, sticky fingered, unlocked the door with her right. The lock protested with a loud screech. He would know she was coming.
The rest of her was shaking with her hand as she pushed the door open. Daniel was standing at the side of his bed, his green satin dressing gown obviously thrown on in haste, hair tousled. “Cynthia, is anything wrong?”
Wordlessly, she held out the candy to him, lettering first. “Oh,” he smiled sheepishly. “You found it. You had said you liked it better than chocolate. I hope you don’t mind.”
Cynthia swallowed, feeling the lingering taste of the sweet on the back of her tongue. “Do you know what it says?”
He nodded, standing a little taller. “Yes. I asked the candy maker to put in the words. The candy is special, you know. No matter how long you lick it, the words will still show. And it will say ‘I love you’ until the very end, just as I will.”
The stick fell to the ground as Cynthia cast herself into his arms. Daniel hugged her close, finding her mouth once again so near to his. She tasted of the candy, and more.
And that night they both learned that Adam was wrong. There was indeed something in life far sweeter than candy.
A Match for Mother Page 24