Cake: The Newlyweds: Cake Series Book Four

by J. Bengtsson

  Luke looked up at me over his coffee cup and actually smiled. “What do you think?”

  “If I had to guess, then no.”

  “I’ve gone a few times, but people are crazy at gyms. This one time I saw some idiot put a water bottle in the Pringles holder on the treadmill.”

  I laughed. Luke and his goofy personality were still in there. Still, I needed a little more from him to ease my mind. “I’m just worried that it wasn’t a conscious choice of yours to get healthy.”

  “Well, it wasn’t like I said, ‘My brother just died, whoopee, sign me up for Nutrisystem for men.’ I just don’t feel like doing much of anything these days, and that includes eating. Right now, life just sucks.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I said, covering his hand with mine. “I’ve been pretty depressed myself. I am eating, though, but only to keep my strength up so I can continue to bully Jake into getting me pregnant.”

  “There you go, Casey. Projecting your misery onto others. Good for you.”

  “You know me… always putting others before myself.”

  His eyes focused on his coffee and he smiled, but it was heavy with strain. “I’m doing better. I really am. Stop worrying about me.”

  “Sure, I’ll just cross your name off my list of angst.”

  “Thank you. So, are you pregnant?”

  “No. We’ve only been trying for three months. It’s probably for the best if we don’t get pregnant, but it just doesn’t feel like that. I want one so badly. A baby would bring joy back into our lives, don’t you think?”

  “A baby’s just a Band-Aid, Sis. It might stop the bleeding, but the reason for the wound will still exist. My advice would be to fix yourself first.”

  “That might take a lifetime,” I huffed, taking a swig of coffee. “And I don’t have the patience.”

  Both our phones buzzed at the same time, and we glanced down at the screens like mirror images. “Mom’s been discharged.”

  “Yep, let’s get home.”

  Luke and I walked over to throw our cups away and the barista called out to him, “Have a great day, Luke.”

  And, without hesitation, my brother answered, as he always did, “Have a better one.”

  My mother arrived home later that afternoon, looking surprisingly strong and healthy. Her mood was upbeat as well. I didn’t know what type of happy pills she was taking, but I wanted some. How could she have such a positive demeanor in these trying times? She couldn’t. At least that’s what I assumed. This whole thing had to be an act, and when she was alone, I was certain my mother was suffering in silence. This calmness of hers had to be denial all wrapped up in a pretty box with a magnificent bow.

  The first topic she wanted to discuss as she took her place on the couch with a glass of her favorite ice tea was the kids’ impending departure. She didn’t think it was necessary for them to leave and tried to pull rank by letting us know, in no uncertain terms, that she was their legal guardian and the decision was ultimately up to her.

  “Well, then, when you tell Sydney she doesn’t get to go on tour with Jake, I want to be in an adjacent state,” Luke said.

  “Me too,” Dad agreed.

  Mom’s eyes shifted among the three of us. I could see her resolve fading. “Fine. They can go. It’s not like you’ll make it four weeks with them anyway.”

  The wheels touched down on the tarmac and my heart leapt in my chest. We’d only been apart for a week, but it felt much longer. Jake had flown in from Texas on a private plane just to pick us up. It would have been easier for him to stay put and for us to travel to him, but Sydney begged him to come to the play her class was performing on the last day of school.

  Although we’d told her it wasn’t possible, Jake secretly made plans to surprise her. He had exactly four hours in Arizona before we needed to be on the flight back for the evening concert he was to perform.

  Although it was just him getting off the flight, I pulled out a cardboard sign and held it over my head. It had become somewhat of a ritual for us, and Jake loved it every time. Sometimes it was just a flimsy piece of paper, and other times I went fancy with colored paint on thick paper stock, but regardless of the materials I used, the sign always had the same four letters on it: cake.

  Jake smiled as he walked toward me and ducked under his paper greeting to give me a kiss.

  “You look hot,” he commented.

  “Well, it is ninety-three degrees outside.”

  He grinned. “Not what I meant, but okay.”

  Tucking the sign between my knees, I grabbed his face and planted one on him. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too. Are you ready to be parents for the next month?”

  “No. Are you?”

  “God, no. It’s going to be a disaster.”

  “Or,” I said, coyly. “We could totally surprise ourselves.”

  He and I stared at each other for a moment before laughing and saying, “Nah.”

  Sydney’s class was preparing for the play, so Jake and I visited Riley’s third grade classroom first. They’d just started the party, and the children were lined up like little toy soldiers waiting for their turn to select their finger foods off the beautifully decorated table.

  “Did you make something?” Jake whispered in my ear.

  “I did. You want to guess which one?”

  He scanned the elaborate selection of items, all tailor-made for kids with fun little designs. There were deviled eggs sporting funny faces and pigs in a blanket shaped like actual pigs and rainbow fruit kabobs. And then there was mine.

  Jake was diligently trying to determine my contribution to the kid table, when a smile spread out wide across his face. “You didn’t?”

  I shrugged. “They said to bring hors d’oeuvres.”

  “They’re third graders.”

  Okay, so maybe my shrimp skewers weren’t the best choice, but how was I to know what a third grade palate was like? At least the skewers were colorful little swords. That looked third gradish, didn’t it?

  “Jake McKallister!” A voice from behind called out. “Wow. I’m Tiffany. Welcome. I can’t tell you how excited I am to meet you. I’m such a fan.”

  Tiffany was Miss Soriano, Riley’s very young, and very hot, teacher. By the looks of things, she’d heard Jake was coming and had dressed accordingly in a body-hugging shirt that accentuated her bosom. Too bad the bulletin she received about his arrival didn’t also include information on his marital status. However, because she was Riley’s teacher, I was inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. It was possible she’d been imprisoned in a foreign country or had tragically been stuck in a well around the time of our wedding. Whatever it was, no way was Miss Soriano trying to hijack my man. Or was she? Within seconds of her introducing herself, I was effectively boxed out of the conversation.

  Annoyed, I stood off to the side as a group began to form around him. I was about to swoop back in and rescue my husband when a strange sight caught my eye: a group of boys, Riley being one of them, was gathered around one central location. Curious, I wandered over and my eyes doubled in size at what I saw – my shrimp lying limp on the floor, and boys everywhere trying to stab each other with the plastic skewers. I gasped and looked back toward the teacher. She and all the mommies had formed a circle around Jake, and none were aware of the fight club that had materialized out of thin air.

  My hors d’oeuvres were to blame for this medieval swordplay, and I needed to get rid of the evidence before anyone noticed. Stomping my way into the circle, I went boy to boy with my palm laid flat. “Hand it over,” I demanded. One by one, the little swords filled my hand, and the boys scattered off.

  As I was about to pick up my discarded shrimp, I could hear Jake disengaging himself from the conversation to come find me. With no time left, I used my shoe to scoot the shrimp under Tiffany’s desk. With any luck, they’d sit there all summer cooking up a nice stink just in time for the start of the new school year. Smiling, I tossed the skewers
in the trash and rejoined my husband.

  My mom and dad were saving us seats in the front row of the auditorium, and we arrived just in time to see Sydney’s class file in to take the stage. She glanced over and gave us each a wave before her eyes settled on Jake. A squeal could be heard throughout the room as she broke ranks, ran to him, and flung herself into his arms.

  “You came!” she said, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Syd yanked on his arms attempting to pull him from his chair. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  “Oh, no.” Jake sat back. “I’m here to watch you on stage, not be on it myself. Besides, your play is starting.”

  “I don’t care. It’s stupid anyway. I’m playing a celery stick. I don’t even like vegetables.”

  “Celery?” he laughed. “Dude, that sucks.”

  “I know.” Syd rolled her eyes. “That’s what I said. I wanted to be the strawberry, but the teacher gave it to Kimmy because she’s such a suck up.”

  “Okay.” Mom stood up and pulled Sydney off Jake. “Get up there and be the best celery stick you can be.”

  “Fine,” she huffed, stomping her way back to stage before turning around and saying, loudly enough for the entire auditorium to hear, “I’m so over fifth grade.”

  16

  Casey: Parental Units

  “Catch me, Jake. Catch me,” Sydney said, as she hung precariously over the back of her airplane seat. One false move and she’d be in his lap. Without even the slightest display of emotion, he reached out a hand and pushed her back over. This little scenario had played out no fewer than twelve times now, and by the blank look on his face, he’d gone into survival mode. I couldn’t help but laugh because otherwise, I’d be crying. We were officially in way over our heads. Jake shifted his eyes toward me, the only part of him apparently still functioning, then pretended to break down in tears. Right back at you, bud.

  We’d managed to get Syd and Riley strapped in for take off, but once the flight leveled off, Jake and I had made the rookie mistake of letting them take their seatbelts off, essentially setting them free to wreak havoc on every unsuspecting adult on the flight. Thankfully this was a private jet, and besides the two pilots and a flight attendant, the only other ones with us were on Jake’s payroll, so they had no choice but to grin and bear it.

  “There are only two of them, right?” Jake asked. “I can’t tell because they seem to have multiplied.”

  He was right. We were only an hour into the two-hour flight, and Sydney had already visited the pilots twice, been in the bathroom four times, and had sung the song from Frozen, oh, I’d say maybe fourteen times. Not to be outdone, Riley had pulled out every elementary school game at his disposal – right now he was playing Duck, Duck, Goose – and yet still, somehow, had managed to fit time into his busy schedule to eat a snack in every unoccupied seat on the plane. The worst of it was, neither one seemed remotely close to slowing down. As for Jake and me, the past hour spent chasing them down had used up every last bit of our reserves, and we were now slumped lethargically in our chairs.

  “Yes. Only two,” I confirmed for him.

  “I think I can officially say we suck at parenting.”

  “Agreed.” I nodded my head. “Thank god we didn’t get pregnant.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that, but it’s exactly what I was thinking,” he said, then added, “Maybe once we grow up.”

  “Yes, that seems like a smart plan. Let’s grow up first.”

  He stuck his hand across the aisle and we linked pinkies. It was the most energy either of us could muster.

  Sydney popped up from behind the seat like one of those terrifying jack-in-the-box toys. “Hey, Rock Star?”

  That was what she’d taken to calling him once the flight began. Jake displayed a pathetic little pout before turning his attention back to her.

  “Yes, Sydney? What can I do for you?”

  “Are we going to your concert tonight?”

  Before he could give her an answer, Riley burst forth from behind Jake’s chair and walloped him on top of the head.

  “Duck!” he yelled, a look of glee on his seven-year-old face as he jumped off the seat and took off running.

  Jake’s eyes followed Riley up the aisle. “Does he really think I’m going to chase after him when he gets to Goose?”

  I turned my head toward my sweet hubby and smiled. We both knew he would.

  “So, are we going to the concert or what?” Syd asked again, but this time she would not be ignored. Grasping Jake’s chin in her fingers, she turned his face toward her.

  “It depends. Are you going to be good?” he asked her.

  “Duck!” Riley popped me on my shoulder, choosing that spot because, with Vadim, Jake’s bodyguard, sitting directly behind me, he couldn’t reach my head. Again my nephew took off running. So far, this was a game I could get behind because it hadn’t required any extra movement on my part.

  Sydney leaned all the way over until her forehead was nearly touching Jake’s. “Define good.”

  “You want a definition, do you?” Jake asked, breaking out a smile. It was no secret he loved her spunk. Regardless of how shitty we were at parenting, Sydney needed him. At this difficult point in her life, he seemed the only person she respected enough to listen to. “Okay, good means that you do what Auntie Casey says, that you don’t get in the way of the crew, and that you don’t run out onto the stage and sing ‘Let it Go’ while I’m performing.”

  “That’s it?” she said, actually wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “What a relief.”

  Sydney let go of his chin and disappeared over her chair again. Jake and I exchanged confused expressions. What did that mean? What exactly was her definition of good? But before we could get our answer, Riley skipped by us, stopping in front of Vadim.

  “Du…” He was only halfway through the word when Vadim grabbed his hand mid-duck.

  “Don’t even think about it, kid,” he said in a menacing growl while throwing in a lip curl to the threat.

  “Vadim!” Jake shot up from his chair, hands balled into fists. His reaction was so swift that it startled everyone on the plane. “Get your hands off him, now!”

  Vadim immediately let go, and Riley, frightened not only by Vadim’s actions but also by Jake’s sudden eruption, burst into tears, flinging himself into my arms.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Jake asked, bristling.

  “These kids are not my job,” Vadim challenged, clearly incensed and not backing down. If it came to it, he had the size and training to take Jake out in less than two moves. It’s what made him a great bodyguard, but also a feared human being.

  “Your job is what I say it is. These kids are my family, and you’ll treat them with respect or you can find yourself new employment.”

  The two glared at one another. Vadim had been with Jake for years, and in all the time I’d known him, I’d never seen them disagree. But then, he barely spoke to me in the first place. When he had something to say to Jake, he always pulled him aside for a private discussion, as if I could not be trusted with pertinent information. I’d never really cared for him, but at the same time, I always felt that both Jake and I were safer when he was around.

  “Sorry,” Vadim mumbled, breaking eye contact with Jake and leaning back in his seat. I could only imagine what it took for him to stand down when it was clear by his body language that was the last thing he wanted to do.

  Jake stood there a moment, still fuming, so I grabbed his hand, forcing his attention away from Vadim. Both Sydney and Riley had been watching the exchange intently, and how he handled himself now would be etched in their memories for a long time. I motioned toward the kids with my eyes and then at his chair.

  The situation diffused, he nodded, but before taking his seat, Jake got the last word in with Vadim. “Don’t ever touch him again.”

  “You want to talk about what happened earlier?” I asked, as he was getting ready for the concert. We’d arrived at
the venue a couple hours earlier, but with the kids occupying every second of that time, this was the first opportunity I’d had to talk to him. And if it weren’t for Kyle wandering into the hornet’s nest and unwittingly taking over the parenting duties, we wouldn’t even have had this chance.

  Seemingly bothered by the incident with Vadim, Jake didn’t look my way when he said, “Not particularly.”

  “I get why you were angry. I was too. Vadim didn’t have any right to grab him like that.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Jake said, edgy once more. “There was no excuse. He was trying to intimidate Riley, and I’m not going to put up with that shit.”

  I understood then that this wasn’t just about Riley. Vadim’s aggressive behavior had triggered something in him. I imagine he’d been in Riley’s shoes more times than he could count – the difference being, he hadn’t had anyone to stand up for him during those dark times. His protective instincts had kicked in the minute Vadim grabbed Riley, and I had no doubt he would have defended his nephew with his life. I respected the hell out of him for that.

  “Hey.” I slid my arms around his back. “Don’t feel bad. You did the right thing.”

  “No. I lost my cool in front of them… in front of everyone.”

  “A little bit, maybe, but it didn’t affect the kids in the way you think it did. They didn’t see you as being aggressive. What they saw was their uncle standing up for them. For better or worse, they now know you have their back.”

  “I want Captain Crunch,” Riley demanded of Kyle.

  “Nope, I’m sorry. That’s not a dinner cereal,” he replied, taking the box out of my nephew’s hands and putting it at the top of the cupboard.

  “That’s not a dinner cereal,” Riley mimicked.

  “That’s not a dinner cereal,” Kyle mimicked back.

  “You can’t tell me what to do,” Riley whined.