All I Ever Wanted

by Marilyn Brant, Caisey Quinn, Rhonda Helms

  “You know him?” I interrupted her. From where, college? And if so, why was he chasing my sister to our small town? And calling her by the wrong name?

  Something seemed sketchy here.

  Maya shifted on her feet and tucked her hands behind her back. Tension vibrated between the members of our small group. People in the Bake Sale crowd shifted and moved around us; apparently they’d picked up on the vibe because no one approached our table at all.

  The guy crossed my arms, shot me a tight smile, and waited for my sister’s response.

  “Well…yes,” Sami finally told me in a slow drawl. “Alex and I met at a concert back in the fall and um…and we—”

  A long, uncomfortable moment of silence stretched in the air.

  “Got to know each other,” he finished for her. He paused before, with a crook of his eyebrow, adding, “Very well.”

  A slam of adrenaline filled me. I darted around the table and moved right in front of this asswipe, Alex. My fists were clenched tight at my sides, and the only thing keeping me from decking him was the fact that we were surrounded by people. “Are you saying you slept with my sister?” I hissed.

  Alex took a step back; confusion filled his eyes as he looked at me, then my sister. “What? Amanda, you have a brother?” He paused. “Thought you said you were an only child.”

  Sami sucked in a shaky breath and drew her lower lip between her teeth. “Oh, shit,” she breathed.

  What the hell was going on here?

  “Yeah,” I said as I took a step toward him, closing that distance between us again. I stared into Alex’s eyes, which locked again on mine. I directed my angry, confused aggression toward him. “I’m Oliver Abbott. Sami’s older brother. And why in the hell do you keep calling her Amanda?”

  My sister cleared her throat. “Um, okay, guys. Can I just—” She tugged me back toward the table and shot me a quick, pleading look. “Maya,” she then called urgently. “Could you, uh, keep him here while Alex and I go for a little walk?”

  “Absolutely!” Maya said. “Go, Sami. Go now.”

  “We’re going,” my sister said, shoving the guy toward Village Hall’s doors.

  I waited until they exited the building before rounding on Maya. “What the hell was that all about? Do you know anything about this? Who is that asshole, and why—”

  “Take a breath, Oliver,” Maya soothed as she stepped toward me behind the table and rested a hand on my forearm. “I’m sure it’s all fine. Let them hash it out and give her a chance to explain.”

  “Explain what, exactly? Why this…douchebag had sex with her—”

  “You don’t know that. You’re just interpreting his words. But that might not be what actually happened.” She paused, squeezed my arm; the heat from her fingers seeped into my skin. Her concerned eyes beckoned mine, and I saw a frown line between her brows. “I don’t know everything that’s going on, but I trust her to explain. Please, try to calm down.”

  I drew in several slow breaths, attempting to lower my spike of anger. I wasn’t an angry hothead or a fighter by nature, but something about that encounter raised my hackles. The whole situation felt wrong. I both anticipated and dreaded Sami’s explanation. God, what trouble had she gotten herself into?

  After my heart rate finally stopped galloping, I gave Maya a quick nod and sat in my chair once again. At which point I became hyperaware of the number of people staring boldfaced at me and Maya, whispering to themselves.

  “Sorry,” I grumbled to her. I wasn’t sorry for standing up to him, but I was sorry for causing a scene. Somehow I knew news of this was gonna spread. Hopefully my parents wouldn’t find out—Dad would throw a shit fit about us being unprofessional. Not to mention about Sami knowing a guy like that.

  “I need to go back to the judge’s booth,” she said. “You sure you’re okay?”

  I nodded. “I’m fine. Go.” I paused then grabbed one of Sami’s cupcake toppers and shoved it at her. “Here. Try this and lemme know how it tastes.”

  “What is it?”

  “Some experiment of my sister’s. If it’s good, I should talk to Dad about adding it into our offerings.”

  She blinked in surprise. “I’d love to. Thanks.” A warm smile spread across her face as she took it, and my heart did another strange thud in response. Something about the look in her eyes right now was so…open. Like she valued me and my thoughts, my opinions. Like my feelings mattered to her, and she was honored I cared about hers in response.

  Was it any wonder she was one of my good friends?

  Maya shuffled away, and I stared at her retreating figure for a long moment. Then I turned my attention to the crowd around me. Shit. Damage control time.

  Nearby were Mr. and Mrs. Punderson, and their young son Hank held Mrs. Punderson’s hand. They loved our bakery; getting them to buy stuff would encourage the rest of the crowd to come over, too.

  I offered them a huge salesman’s smile and waved them over. “Mr. Punderson,” I said as I pointed to my sister’s creation. “You look like a man who likes to take a chance on something new.”

  The Bake Sale flew by. The brownies were the first to go, as I’d predicted. Sami finally came back after being outside forever with that douchebag—popping up right before the end of the sale, of course. Huge help there, sis. Thanks. When I’d asked her what that scene was all about, why she would hook up with a guy like that, she’d countered with some strange dig about me and relationships. I’d wanted to press her more on what that comment meant, but we had a last-minute crowd surge.

  At the end of the sale, the winners were declared. Dad’s brownie won second place, barely beat out by Mrs. Hortense’s cassata cake. I had to hand it to the woman—she knew her way around a kitchen. I’d sampled it earlier and it was divine.

  By four thirty, Sami and I had started packing up the empty trays and tossing the plates in the garbage, and we were ready to head back to the bakery. It was still sunny out, and our breaths puffed out from our mouths.

  “Remember when we used to pretend we were smoking?” I asked her in an effort to lighten the tense mood between us. “You’d hold your fingers in front of your face like you were gripping a cigarette and exhale.” I mimicked the action, and it earned a reluctant chuckle.

  “Yeah, Mom would tell us to knock it off. That people might think we were actually smoking.”

  “Obviously, at ages eight and seven, we were on the straight path to lung cancer,” I quipped. Despite my efforts, the tension was still there, crackling between me and Sami. I sighed. “Look. I’m…sorry, okay? That guy pissed me off, the way he acted like that. Making those innuendos about you and him.” Just thinking about it made my blood pressure spike.

  “It’s not just that, Oliver,” she said, frustration clear in her voice. “Besides, that wasn’t Alex’s fault.”

  “So what happened? Why didn’t he know your name? And why didn’t he know who I was?” I tried hard to keep the chastising tone out of my voice; nothing set Sami off faster than feeling like I was trying to parent her. Something I’d learned the hard way a long time ago.

  “I don’t want to talk about this with you,” she retorted as she thrust her chin up. Her steps sped up and she beat me to the bakery door.

  We walked into the bakery and headed to the kitchen to rinse and put away the trays. Then we puttered around the kitchen, cleaning and wiping countertops we’d left a bit messy in our efforts to make it to the Bake Sale on time.

  “I just want to understand,” I finally said as I scrubbed the top of the stove. I kept my voice neutral and my attention focused on the patch of burned food in front of me.

  She sighed, and I heard her rinsing the utensils she’d gathered. “Look, you got a bad first impression of Alex. I—” The silverware clanked as silence stretched. “When we met at a concert, I didn’t tell him my real name. But we talked for a long time and I liked him, and he seemed to like me, and…I don’t know. Things just spiraled out of control when they should
n’t have. It was really my mistake, not his.”

  “Did you two…” Gah, I couldn’t make myself finish the sentence.

  I heard her snort. “Seriously? If we did, do you think I’d want to discuss my sex life with you?”

  The tone of her voice made me laugh, despite the situation. “No. I suppose not.” I didn’t really want to hear about it anyway, except to make sure he hadn’t hurt her.

  “Didn’t think so. But…there is something you and I need to talk about,” Sami said in a tone that drew my attention.

  I stopped scrubbing at the spot and eyed my sister, who kept her attention on washing a kitchen knife. The fixation she seemed to have on it roused my suspicions. “About what?”

  “It’s about you.”

  I narrowed my eyes as I stared hard at her, teeth grinding. “What about me?”

  Sami drew in a breath and kept cleaning the knife.

  “You’re going to wear the metal off that blade if you don’t stop,” I continued. I stepped over to her and stared down at her. “What do we need to talk about me, Sami? I haven’t done anything.” Shit, was I about to be blasted for some nonexistent infraction I’d supposedly committed against my sister? Irritation welled in my gut. “You’re not even around anymore, so how could I have—”

  Sami thunked the blade into the sink, the loud ringing cutting off my words, and peered up into my eyes. There were layers of emotion there—including frustration, which poured from her. “Honestly, Oliver, how can you be so brain dead? Maybe instead of focusing on my love life—or lack thereof—you should open your eyes and look at your own.”

  I blinked. “Sami, what the hell are you talking about?”

  She planted a fist on her hip, and her jaw clenched. Her eyes were spitting fire. “You know, I wouldn’t even be bringing this up unless it was a life-or-death situation, but if you don’t pull your head out of your ass immediately, you’re going to blow the best thing that could ever happen to you.”

  “Wait, what am I missing here?” Was this about work? But if it was, why would she make a comment about my love life—or lack thereof?

  “Oliver Abbott, Maya has been madly in love with you for a long time now. Like half a decade long.” Sami wagged a finger in my face. “And if you don’t do something about it, you’re going to lose her.”

  The air whooshed out of my lungs, and my brain went completely still. “Wait, what?”

  Maya? In love…with me? Could it be true?

  Images from earlier today slid across the front of my mind. Maya’s hurt at my comment on her eating. The makeup and hair. The touchably soft pink sweater. That damned lip gloss.

  I… Wow.

  Wow.

  I stared dumbly at Sami. My chest constricted so tight I could barely drag any oxygen into my grape-sized lungs.

  Maya. My good friend, my sister’s best friend. She loved me.

  And I’d never realized it.

  Sami’s face softened with a touch of pity. “Oliver, you are so thickheaded sometimes. You’re so busy focusing on the small things that you miss the big thing in front of you. The only reason I’m even telling you this is because you’re this close to losing Maya for good. She’s too wonderful for you to keep hurting her with your stubborn blindness. So stop focusing on me right now.” She paused. “Trust me, you have your own issues to deal with, big brother.”

  Sami grabbed the knife from the sink, wiped it dry, put it in the block, and headed out of the kitchen, leaving me alone. The front door dinged as she exited the bakery.

  I leaned back against the stove and stared blankly at the wall. Was it true? It had to be—Sami would never lie about something so big. But when had it happened? And why had I never realized it?

  All the movie nights at home, all the dinners, all the days at the bakery, Maya had been carrying around this secret. Pretending like we were nothing more than friends.

  But now everything was different. Now I knew the truth. I raked a hand through my hair, rubbed the knot of tension at back of my neck. My head was a storm of thoughts. I had no idea how to feel about it. How to wrap my mind around the idea that a friend had decidedly non-friendly feelings about me.

  Shit. I huffed out a sigh and closed my eyes. Maya’s brown eyes haunted me, stared up at me. Filled with a love I’d been too stupid to recognize.

  I needed time to think. To figure out how I felt…and what the hell I was going to do with this new information.

  Maya

  “More syrup?” I asked Tate, waving the syrup bottle in his direction.

  He squirmed in his folding chair and cast a gaze at his mom, Patricia. She gave him a smile and nod. “Yes, pweez,” he said to me as he held out his plate of half-eaten pancakes. His fingers were caked with sticky pieces of pancake, but he didn’t seem to care.

  I gave him a healthy pour from the bottle. “You’re getting so big,” I told him with a wide grin as I rubbed the top of his pale blond head. Wow, I couldn’t believe he was already two. I remembered how Patricia’s water had broken right outside the bakery door two Octobers ago.

  Boy, that had been a crazy day. I’d just gotten my license a couple of months before and had driven her to the hospital, since she couldn’t drive herself while in labor. She’d clutched her huge belly and groaned from waves of contractions, her face etched with fear and pain, so I’d put on soft music and asked her to talk to me about anything and everything during the long drive.

  After Tate was born, Patricia had let me be one of the first to hold him and had thanked me profusely for my help. Her husband had been out of town, and I’d helped her keep from panicking. A number of people had come up to me for days afterward, asking for all the details.

  It made me feel…important.

  I walked to the next table in my row—for the Pancake Breakfast, I was manning this area—and offered syrup. The elderly woman declined, so I shuffled back to the kitchenette area and put the syrup on the table.

  God, seven a.m. had come so early this morning. I’d spent the rest of yesterday afternoon walking around and looking at the Winterfest displays in the town square. All by myself. Sami and Oliver had gone MIA after the Bake Sale, with Sami saying she’d tell me soon what was going on with Alex. Everly was supposed to be in town sometime today, but I hadn’t seen her yet. And when she did get in, I knew she was going to be busy prepping for tonight’s dance. Oh, maybe I should leave her a plate of baked goods at the barn, I thought.

  Nor had I talked to Bree much either, other than our catch-up-on-town-gossip Thursday night at Juke’s Box. I knew she’d be busy running around today doing…whatever the hell Bree wanted, I guessed.

  Which meant that yesterday I’d done one solo run down the sledding hill then sat on the sidelines for a few minutes, watching part the races and cheering on the youngest participants with my biggest smile and loudest cheers. And on the inside, feeling like a lame-ass loser. I’d debated going to the craft fair afterward but had decided to just walk home. My evening consisted of leftover lasagna and a night of watching mindless TV. But I couldn’t fake it anymore in public and act like I wasn’t feeling disappointed in how the day went.

  I shook off my crabby attitude with a frustrated sigh. It wasn’t like my friends were ditching me; I knew that. We were all busy, and at the very least, I could count on seeing them tonight at the dance. And doing our annual Sunday night toast at the bridge, of course—my favorite part of the whole weekend. But I missed the way things used to be when we all lived in town. The Winterfest was our time to hang out together, to shake off our stresses and have goofy fun.

  I wondered if I was the only one who really cared about that anymore. Maybe this was the beginning of the end of an era. Maybe I was the only one hanging on to the past, and I needed to let go and try to move forward. Nothing was gonna be like it used to be. I needed to learn how to be okay with that.

  I scanned the crowd, watched families laughing and eating pancakes together. The smile on my face was genuine, happy for
their happiness, but I could feel the slight wobble on the corners of my mouth. The telltale twist in my heart. I could tell myself all I wanted that I was going to let go of the past, but sometimes it felt like that was all I had. This town was my everything. My family, my friends, my life’s breath, even. I needed these people. I found fulfillment, purpose here.

  My gaze landed on Oliver, sitting with Kennedy, the mayor’s son. Oliver waved his fork in the air as he talked, and Kennedy’s head threw back with a burst of raucous laughter. My heart clenched tight as I watched Oliver’s perfect mouth moving, the way that one dimple in his left cheek deepened as he grinned.

  Oliver was such an integral part of me. This love I felt for him, it filled my entire being. It set me on fire. It made me strive to be a better person. One who was worthy of him, the man who was so damned good at everything.

  I would see him work hard at the bakery, without complaint, and it made me want to work harder. I would watch the protective way he nurtured his family, his usual gentle demeanor changing in an instant if he felt someone he loved had been wronged, and it made me want to pay that forward and care for others like that.

  I tried in a thousand ways, every day, to show him the impact he had on me.

  A mom at one of the far tables gathered her kid up and left, so I darted over to clear their spot and dump the trash. I did another round through my tables to make sure everyone was happy. But my brain kept throbbing with the knowledge of what an utter failure yesterday had been. My so-called attempts at seduction had been spectacularly lame—Oliver had barely noticed me at all. Though I would have sworn I’d seen a glint in his eyes when I’d taken off my coat. He’d definitely glanced down at my chest. I couldn’t have imagined that.

  But despite running around this morning in a very visible manner, wearing another soft sweater and my favorite pair of skinny jeans, he hadn’t looked my way once today. Had just kept his attention focused on Kennedy and his own plate of pancakes. Or chatting with people as they wandered by their table.