Standing By: A Knight's Tale #2

by Burgoa, Claudia Y.

  “Online orders?” Mitch asks.

  “There’s that,” I sprinkle fresh petals on top of the cake base. “We’re still researching our shipping options but it’ll be done soon.”

  “Liam asked me to smuggle some muffins to him when we visit,” Mitch says while rolling the dough he is using to make croissants. “Or that we move to London. Whichever option is better. Mom and Dad loved what you sent them.”

  “I really liked him,” I say, busying myself with the last details of the groom’s cake; the hockey puck in the middle of the ice rink. Mitch’s people will arrive soon to transport it. They are professionals at doing so, and Susan loves the fact that we now deliver. “Did you tell him I’ll hire him?”

  “I even mentioned to him that you would pay him a minimum wage salary plus all the cupcakes he can eat.” He continues with his croissant project making sure they all line up on the baking sheet.

  “You mock me but he increased our customer base. What if the grandmas he left behind stop visiting once they realize the hunky nice boy isn’t coming back.”

  “I like it more when they call him handsome young man,” Mitch chuckles. “It didn’t fail to make him cringe but he kept humoring them.” As Mitch is about to roll another croissant, he looks my way and then stares at the cake. “The wedding cake looks amazing you want to go to the wedding?”

  “Why? How do you know? It’s a private, only friends and family known affair. I signed a contract where I promised to give them my first born if I say anything about the wedding.”

  “The same I signed for being a friend,” he looks up at me and his eyes crinkle.

  “Get out of town, are you their friend?”

  “He is and they visit my restaurants often.”

  I text Susan as Mitch’s people arrive to take the cakes. Ever since Emma’s wedding, Susan has requested the delivery service.

  “Jared orders sushi for lunch almost daily. I know people and if you wanted, you can skip Susan, Hayl.”

  “No, my arrangement with Susan works well,” I tell him as I hand the delivery guys an extra box of cupcakes for their help. “If I work directly with those customers I’d also have to deal with the scheduling, last minute changes and meltdowns. You have no idea how many times Susan calls me with requests.”

  He places the last croissant on the sheet and heads to one of the ovens.

  “They know my wife is making their cake,” he closes the oven door, walks toward me and pulls me into his arms giving me a quick hug. “So do you want to go to the wedding?”

  “Nah,” I try to lace my arms behind his neck but he takes a step back. Right, I forgot that friends no longer kiss, hug or…

  “Hayley,” Sophie’s voice interrupts the moment, and a load lifts off my back because I didn’t know how to tell him the rest. Or what the rest would be. I look up and find her in between the swinging doors. “Your father is coming.”

  We have a system in place; whoever is working the front warns us about my parents.

  “My turn.” I head to meet the man. It’s better this way, if I avoid him he brings it up during one of our counseling sessions—our father-daughter bonding time. The one we rescheduled yesterday because I had to finish this wedding cake.

  “Morning, Dad.” He wears a dark suit, his signature white shirt and a grey tie. “Busy day?”

  “Morning, Pumpkin, did you have a good night sleep?”

  “Yes, how about yourself?”

  “Did you finish that cake on time?” he doesn’t respond to my question, his face is somber and his stare blank. “Would you mind if we cancel today’s appointment? I’m juggling a lot of things at the moment. It’s not that our appointment isn’t important; it’s just impossible to do it today.”

  “What’s going on, why are you juggling a lot of things, Dad?”

  “I’m semi-retiring and house hunting?”

  “Are you selling the penthouse?” That’s unexpected. History says that he fought Bridget for the place because it was where all of his children gathered as a family. “Why?”

  “Yes, I’m selling. I don’t see the point of having a big house for only one person,” he says. His attention is drawn to my pastries. “Did you run out of those peach muffins?”

  “Yes, I’ll save you some tomorrow. Now back to the house, you loved it. We all grew up there, and you’ve had it since you married Mel.”

  “Give me a dozen of whatever you have, then,” he waves his hand around the showcase. “Do you think your husband would like to buy the penthouse where you grew up?”

  “Only if she wants it,” Mitch crosses the doorway holding a tray of cupcakes. I look at the clock realizing its rotation time. “Morning, Mr. Welsh. Do you want the place, Hayl?”

  “I love the house, but no.” I head to the back for the next tray, and when I come back, I continue the conversation. “Why would I want it? It has too many bedrooms, rooms and is too expensive? But that’s our house, Dad.”

  “You can have it for your children, Hayley,” Dad says. “They’ll have plenty of room to grow, that’s why Mel and I bought it.”

  “I’m twenty-three, Dad,” I remind him. “We haven’t even had—”

  “Hay-Bear,” Mitch interrupts me with a kiss on the cheek before I finish my sentence with the word sex. “Your dad is from another era he, of course, thinks that after marriage we should start having children. We’re not ready, Mr. Welsh. We have other projects in mind, as Hayley said; we haven’t discussed when we’ll have children.”

  “The offer is there, we’ll skip agents, legal fees and other pesky details.” Dad glares at us. “You don’t need to fill the house now.” He sets a fifty dollar bill on the counter, takes the box and heads out but stops as usual right at the door. “Are we okay about the appointment, Hay-Bear?”

  “Yes, Dad,” I wave at him.

  Mitch disappears through the doors, and I wonder if he’s upset. Brushing both men out of my brain, I finish organizing the showcase.

  “What’s going on?” I look up at Mitch, who holds a napkin with a buttery croissant on top. “You’re upset and you almost said something very stupid.”

  “He’s selling the house,” my voice croaks. “It’s one of the places I grew up in.”

  “I jumped from one country to another while growing up, I wouldn’t understand what it means to you.” Mitch breaks the croissant and puts a piece of it in my mouth. Soft, buttery and yummy. “That good, huh?” I lift one side of my lip. “Do you want it?”

  “Now that we’re going through therapy, all those great memories of him are resurfacing and it’s painful to think that we’ll no longer have it.” I say right before I snatch another piece of that delicious thing he made. “He was a great nurturing dad up until he broke up with Mom. During a session he admitted staying away from me to avoid Mom, never thought about what that would do to me.”

  “It appears that you—what do you want?” Mitch growls; I look towards the door and spot the blue devil, Paige.

  “Your mother took all my patience away, Paige, what the fuck do you want?” He repeats.

  “To talk to her,” Paige answers Mitch in her nasally voice. “Dad won’t hire me and I need a job. I don’t want to live in New Jersey.” Then she turns to look at me. “You have to help me.”

  No, I don’t.

  “I can’t,” I sigh. “Each time I have to help you, something goes wrong for me. I gave you a seasonal job two years ago. I had to pay you fifty dollars an hour—because that’s your rate—and you ruined my production. The next was your apartment remodeling.” I point at her now visible bump. “You snatch my boyfriend.”

  “You said it, Hayley, that’s long time ago,” she snips and touches her belly. “You hold grudges just like Dad. My baby can’t grow up in New Jersey, think about my child. We’re sisters; I love you, Hayley. At least have that husband of yours hire mine. He has more money than we do. Let’s try to be family, little sister.”

  “I’m here Paige,” Mitch info
rms her. “You can talk to me directly and the answer is no. Kevin can apply online and if his qualifications match our needs, the human resources department of the company will contact him. You said your lines, now leave.”

  She gives him the best flat smile that she can. “I want to get to know you too, brother. We can become the family we are meant to be.” I tilt my head to the side and hold in a huge laugh while Mitch chuckles.

  “Why now?” I ask Paige. There’s no remodeling going on at her house, she doesn’t need a job. I want to know her motive. “Trying to get on Dad’s good side? Snap your fingers at him, and he’ll do whatever you want. You can’t do anything wrong.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” she grunts. “You’re Daddy’s little girl, Hayley. He carries several pictures of you inside his wallet and has others framed in his office. Tells everyone how amazing Hayley is even though you’re the bastard of the family. He taught you how to ride a bike, skate and cared for you when you were sick. I remember because Caroline would say things like, ‘Ugh, Hayley has strep, but I called Augustine and he is taking care of her. I’m not dealing with her crap.’”

  That was Dad pre-breakup. Always by my side whenever I caught a cold. He’d cancel meetings, leave work early or fly back if he was out of town. Actually, Dad had been the one who read to me every night before bedtime even when I stayed with Mom. He read to me over the phone, no matter where in the world he was.

  “He never did that with either Parker or me, Hayley.” She takes a deep breath, playing martyr as always. “I don’t know about the other two but even those two give a shit about you. They never call me; they didn’t come to my graduation, and they sure didn’t stir up shit when they learned I married. I want a sister that’s all.”

  “What’s the catch, Paige?” Mitch folds his arms giving her that deep stare.

  “I want the penthouse, but Dad wants a lot of money,” of course, there it is.

  “He offered it to you?” a pang of jealousy hits me.

  “No, he emailed us yesterday that he’s selling, and we needed to get our crap out of the house soon.” She observes the walls and then looks back at me. “I asked him to give it to me and he said no. He was selling it, and he already gave me a house. In New Jersey.”

  I stick my fingers in my ears; she can be freaking loud when she’s about to throw a hissy fit. He offered me the penthouse, well to Mitch, and Dad didn’t send me an email. I should call him later; tell him about this impromptu visit.

  “There’s nothing I can do for you, Paige.”

  “Yes, you can, think about it and call me.” Paige holds my gaze. “I’m your only sister, do this one thing for me. Stop holding grudges, I am not a pastry chef, of course, I made mistakes. Kevin, well what do you expect? I’m a better option. Think about it, it’s only a matter of time before this one leaves you too.”

  “You know, Paige, I never cared about Kevin,” I concentrate on my needs and not hers, on what I felt and what I wanted to say. “Your betrayal is what hurt, it’s the fact that you only try to get or ruin what I have. I’ll pass on that family offer for now, Paige. Once you decide to look for me because of me, we can talk again. As for the penthouse, that’s between Dad and you.”

  “You better help me or you’ll regret it, Hayley.” She huffs and without saying another word leaves.

  “I don’t like it,” Mitch says, then he smiles. “But I’m proud of you for standing up to her. I’ll see you around five. What do you want for dinner?”

  “I’m going to the five o’clock class.” He lifts his hands and turns his palms up. I believe he wants more context. “Thermo yoga?”

  “I’ll meet you there and after class we’ll head home together.” Mitch kisses my cheek. “I’m out of here. Rumor has it that I have pending emails and an investment company to run. This, live like the middle class but keep your responsibilities is a bitch. Text me what you want for dinner and call me if you need me, promise?”

  “I will. About dinner, surprise me.”

  He leaves through the back door, and it doesn’t take long for my bell to ring again, this time it’s Mom. She has dyed her hair a dark brown and is wearing a long summer dress that blocks her shoes. By the extra inches, I’m assuming she is wearing her signature high heels.

  “Morning, Mom.”

  “You better call Paige and apologize,” comes out instead of a “Good morning, Hayley.” “She is pregnant and vulnerable. Fix this, Hayley, call your father and make him give her the penthouse. It’s not like he needs the money.”

  “You know what, Mother? This is the last time you come to my sanctuary and talk to me like this,” I set my hands on top of the showcase, my stance, like my voice are firm. “You need to understand that I find peace in my work place, peace you like to disturb on a daily basis, unless Dad or Mitch are here to stop you. I love you, but you need to respect me as an individual and stop trying to make me who you want me to be. No, I won’t call Dad about Paige. His penthouse, his problem. Paige isn’t your daughter; I’m your daughter. Either you understand that or I have nothing else to say to you.”

  “I won’t come until you apologize, Hayley.” With those last words, she turns around and slams the door.

  What?

  “She’s unbelievable,” I head to my kitchen knowing this is a battle I shouldn’t waste my time or thought process on at the moment or ever for that matter.

  Chapter 31

  Hayley

  Mitch leans confidentially over the counter his trimmed athletic body relaxed, and all his attention is on me as I talk about my earlier conversations with Parker and Dad. Both agreed that Paige’s visit at the bakery made no sense. Park swore he’ll talk to her and offer them a job—in Seattle. Dad agreed with the theory about the penthouse, harassing me will convince him to give it to them. No chance of that happening, he sold the place already.

  In a day?

  “Watch out and don’t let her fill your head with fucked up guilt.” Parker had said before we hung up the phone.

  Dad called me around four to make sure I was doing well, which I confirmed. He received a call or a visit from Mom and Bridget.

  “Paige needs to understand that she has to work for what she wants,” Dad told me. “When I called her she said that if I didn’t gift her the penthouse she wouldn’t let me see the baby.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “I’m too old for this, sweetheart,” he complained as we continued our conversation. “Are you or your husband hiring either one of them—Paige or Kevin?”

  “No, well, I’m not sure about Mitch. He sent her to his company website,” Dad’s laugh came from the other side of the line. “Yes, that’s my guy; he doesn’t take crap from anyone.”

  Then I regretted saying my guy, he made it clear that we’re friends and all those fluttery feelings I developed need to go inside a box and then sent to some kind of feeling shredding machine. My heart tightens, the same happened with Ted and Kevin; once I was ready they pushed me aside. The difference between the other two and Mitch is that I …

  “Dad didn’t say anything about Paige and I, he hasn’t pressured me about building bridges between me and my siblings.” I explain while Mitch listens attentively to my every word gazing abstractly. “I love all of them but I’m unsure on what or how to create a relationship with Ben and Brent… And I guess Paige.”.

  “Hayl,” he angles his face down at me but something flickers in his eyes and he composes his posture and shoves his hands inside his pockets. “I’m looking at everything from the outside and I can tell you, your dad and your three brothers are trying to reach out to you. I’m only a spectator, therefore, I can’t distinguish their intentions all that well. What do you want from them?”

  I don’t know.

  “Once upon a time I almost lost my twin brother,” Mitch tells me as his shoulders slump, and his eyes lower to the floor. “Any resentment I had against him for packing and leaving us behind to pursue his stupid dream disappeared the
moment Mom called me to tell me he had been ambushed, and they didn’t know if he’d make it. I realized if he died at that moment, the last words I said to him had been: ‘I hope you burn in hell, asshole.’”

  His bent posture makes me want to hug him, but I decide to let him continue what looks like some painful memory.

  “I blamed him for a lot of shit that had happened to me after he left. Later, I realized that whatever happened to me were the consequences of my own actions, not his. I know that doesn’t apply to you, but the fact is the same. I learned that drama and negative feelings won’t accomplish anything. No matter what happened between us, I loved him and harboring any negative feelings would only affect me. He’s that dude I came into the world with, one of my best friends and my family. Family is important.”

  “What if it doesn’t work?” A juvenile question, is it wrong to fear them? “Wouldn’t it be easier to detach myself from them?”

  “What if it does?” he questions, our eyes meet and again there’s that connection, the longing to be with him and… love? His forest green eyes harden, and his ears turn red. Now he’s upset because I care about him? I change my view to the sink filled with dirty dishes, I fear he knows I fell in love, and he’s now going to kick me out of his life—forever. He said it; once they want more, he finishes the relationship. “As I say about food you can’t trash it until you try it.”

  I guess he says that because earlier he made some kind of Mexican casserole with tortillas, chicken and poblano pepper salsa, a Mexican salad, and white rice. I scooped the rice and refused to eat the rest.

  “It’s cute when you’re thinking about a comeback or some kind of analogy,” he says staring at me. His eyes suddenly run through my body and stop right at my mouth. “If he fails you, I’m here to catch you—always.” Ridiculously, a girlish tingly feeling hits me right under my waist, that moisture segregates, and I want to ask him for a kiss, a caress… all those things he’s been denying me for the past few days. “You’re cute, Hayl.”