The Bakeshop at Pumpkin and Spice

by Donna Kauffman

  “So you went,” he said, and she nodded.

  “I knew it wouldn’t be permanent, that I wanted to come back home. That didn’t change. But as I settled in there, I discovered the experiences I was having would shape all that was to come when I returned, and that it was the right time, maybe the only time, I’d get the chance to do it. I kind of surprised myself. Once I decided to stay for the full program, I dove all the way in. I loved my time there. I was able to explore my family’s homeland, learn about my heritage. It really was a special time.”

  “It’s hard to predict what you’ll be willing to do until you’re invested enough to know,” he said.

  “Exactly.” She grinned. “Of course, my mom and dad tried to use my enthusiasm for Italy to get me to continue my international education, maybe apply for additional courses in Belgium and France. But the moment I had that degree in my hands, I was on a plane back to Maine. Being in Italy helped to really clarify what I wanted for my future.” She lifted a shoulder. “And that was to build my life here. I’m not like my parents, with that unending curiosity to go and see everything there is to see. I’m more like Sofia, wanting that grounded feeling of hearth and home, and working to carve out my place in my community, make the people in it happier.”

  Caleb leaned back and pulled them both to the center of the bed. He propped up some pillows and leaned back against them, and she curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder, arm across his waist. The intimacy felt normal; they fitted together well, as if they had lain like this often.

  “I didn’t go to Greece for a proper education,” he told her, “but I have been there to see family and, like you, learn more about my heritage.” His grin matched hers. “I did a lot of cooking while I was there, but nothing formal.”

  “You probably learned just as much, if not more, from your family’s recipes, especially in the old country.”

  He nodded. “I think so. Like you, I knew I was coming back home, so I was always thinking of that as I tried new things, learned new techniques or recipes. How I could work them to fit in with our menu at home. My stays there were a week here and a week there, not months or a year. But spending time in Greece has definitely fueled me. It feeds my soul, I guess you could say.”

  “You’ve never been tempted to pack up and move there? I’ve heard it’s breathtakingly beautiful.”

  “It is,” he said. “Any photos you’ve seen can’t do it justice. But to answer your question . . . no. It’s exactly what it’s supposed to be to me. A time out of time, a place to go be inspired, so I can come back, like you, and share that with the people who mean the most to me.”

  “How did your aunt and uncle end up in Maine? From what you said, and what Sofia has told me, it sounds like both of their families are in and around Philadelphia. Are the two families also geographically close in Greece? How did they first meet?”

  She could feel his smile against her hair as his cheek was resting on the top of her head. “How much has Sofia told you?”

  Now it was her turn to smile. “I might have asked a few questions about the Castellanoses. And the Dimitrious.”

  “Was that before or after you dropped by with a box full of muffin porn.”

  She spluttered a laugh at his term, but given where it had led them, she couldn’t exactly refute it. “Before,” she said. Her thoughts shifted to the cookie he’d tried, but she really didn’t want to go there. Not now. Not yet.

  She’d initially planned to talk to Sofia, maybe even her mother, about the Bellaluna magic, about how, specifically, it worked. Of course, she’d pestered them with dozens of questions about it growing up, but they’d always put her off with a loving smile and a promise that she’d understand when she came into her own. Now that time had come, and she still had questions. Maybe more than she’d had before.

  But once she’d left Castellanos the other day, she’d put off expanding that part of her education. How could Caleb be “the one”? Their lives were so fully committed to different places, and not simply to a job or career, but to family. If she’d started asking questions, especially with Sofia knowing full well it had been Caleb who’d tasted her first magical cookie, she’d never hear the end of it. She’d decided she’d wait until Caleb was safely gone; then they’d talk. So she’d be ready. Next time.

  Only that hadn’t felt at all right, either. In fact, it had felt dead wrong. Then she’d woken up in the middle of the night with that sick ball of dread in her gut. She’d often heard how members of a family had a sixth sense when one of their own was in trouble. But that didn’t explain Caleb. He wasn’t one of her own. Isn’t he, though?

  “So, are you trying to tell me that you want me for my mad skills with sugar and butter?” She’d meant it as a tease, but somehow it had come out sounding a lot more serious.

  He rolled her to her back, surprising a little squeal out of her, then a soft moan when she felt his weight on top of her. Finally.

  “You had me with that first smile.” He leaned down and kissed a spot on her cheek, then another, then another. Then a kiss to her forehead, and one to the tip of her nose. “And these are pretty beguiling, too.”

  “Beguiling? My . . . freckles?”

  “What can I say,” he murmured, as he made his way across her cheek and down the other side of her neck. “I’m a connect-the-dots enthusiast.”

  That got another choke of laughter out of her, and she heard and felt him chuckling, too, as he continued his path.

  She squirmed beneath him, trying not to push her hips up against him. Failing. “I thought we were going to do this the right way,” she managed on a gasp as he slid her bra strap over her shoulder.

  “This feels pretty right,” he said, his voice even deeper now, with a hint of a rasp to it. However, he reluctantly slid the strap up and lifted his weight off her, eventually settling them back into their previous positions.

  She was still trying to get her body to calm the heck right back down, and her line of vision, with her head tucked against his bare chest, gave her plenty of proof that he was having to do the same thing.

  She felt him press another kiss to the top of her head, and decided she liked those kisses, liked that he punctuated their conversation that way.

  “I just wanted you to know, it’s not about the muffins, or the cookie,” he said. “This is about you.” There was reverence in his voice when he added, “They’re just a really, really nice bonus.”

  She gently knuckled him in the ribs, making him wince and laugh at the same time. “I suppose I should be careful teasing you. You haven’t cooked for me yet.”

  He pulled her closer, settled them more deeply into the pillows. “We can take care of that tomorrow.”

  “I’d like that.” She lifted her head and looked up at him. “A lot.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder again. “So, tell me how your aunt and uncle ended up in Maine. Are there other Castellanoses or Dimitrious up here?” Her mouth curved. “Somehow we got sidetracked. Again.”

  He kicked up the folded blanket at the foot of the bed and spread it over the two of them. She settled back against his side, his arm wrapped around her.

  “It was for Alethea,” he said. “She was just out of nursing school and George was working in his parents’ restaurant. His younger brother and one of his cousins run it now. He and his folks didn’t necessarily see eye-to-eye on how to run the business.” Amused, he added, “He was young and full of ideas and thought he knew everything. Right at that time, through one of her school connections, Alethea got a really good job offer up here in Maine. They were young newlyweds and ready for some adventure. So, they came up here, fell in love with the town. George found this old building, rundown and abandoned. An eyesore, basically. As I understand it, he made some kind of deal with the bank that owned it and the two made this space into a little apartment so they didn’t have the added expense of renting one. She worked any shift she could get and he put the sweat equity into getting the bui
lding renovated. It took them a good couple of years to see it done, but then Castellanos finally opened—”

  “And it’s been something of a landmark in Moonbright ever since,” she finished for him. “They’re still close to their families, though, right? Your family and George’s?”

  “Other than the folks back in Greece, they are the only ones not in Philadelphia, but yes. There is no ill will, if that’s what you mean. That they ended up not having children sort of made it easier for them. I think the families would have had a harder time if they’d started a whole branch up here and they couldn’t all regularly get together. George and Alethea come down from time to time, but all in all, we don’t see them all that much, nor they us.” He nudged her so she looked up at him. “It’s not like we have a rule that you can’t cross state lines. We’re all free to go and do whatever we want. We’d have family support, no one would want to see us fail, or be unhappy. My parents are gone, so in that regard, my siblings and I have more of a sense of freedom.” He smiled. “My sister has definitely taken advantage of that. We don’t stay close to each other because we think we have to, but—”

  “Because you want to,” she said softly. “I know what you mean. I wish, often, that my mom and dad were more like Sofia and me. I would love to have them around all the time.”

  “I know some of the younger relatives, my cousins’ children, will likely not follow in the family footsteps. They’re already scattering off to colleges here and there and . . . so times are changing.” He trailed off then, and she could feel the restless tension seep back into his body.

  “And now George and your aunt are in Greece on a much-deserved, much-delayed honeymoon,” she said, quietly though. She tipped her head up and rested her chin on the hand she’d pressed against his chest. “But all is not right in Castellanos-ville, is it?” she asked gently. “Sofia said there’s been some talk about the restaurant being closed all week. Nothing bad,” Bree hastened to add. “I think folks assume it’s because they went on this dream trip. But—”

  “But why bring his nephew up if he’s going to keep the place closed,” Caleb finished for her.

  “You don’t have to talk about it,” she said. “I just thought you’d want to know.”

  “No, it’s okay. Actually, and this will sound weird, I guess, but I’ve wanted to talk to you about it. My sister, Cassandra, is here, and she’s great at—”

  Bree lifted her head straight up. “Your sister is here? In Moonbright?” She immediately looked toward the open door to the tiny living room.

  He chuckled. “She’s staying out at George and Alethea’s.”

  Bree let out a long breath and let her head drop back to his chest, laughing at herself. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have carried me off to bed with your sister sleeping on the couch. Sorry. I just—”

  He shifted so he could lean down and catch her mouth with his. The kiss started out gentle, sweet, but quickly turned into more. He lifted his head. “I’d like to think I wouldn’t have,” he told her. A slow smile curved his lips. “But until we get done doing this the right way, I make no promises.”

  She laughed at that and gave him a fast kiss. “Me either,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “So, why would I think it’s weird you wanted to talk to me about it?”

  “It’s not because it involves you, or your grandmother, in any way. It was more like . . . I have this situation that I’m trying to figure out, I’m not sure how I want to handle it, and so the natural thing to do is go talk to Abriana about it. I wanted to run it past you, get your take. Like I would if . . .” He trailed off.

  She decided she wasn’t ever going to get tired of hearing him call her by her full name. Just the way he said it. “If we were together,” she finished for him, realizing they did that for each other a lot. That didn’t surprise her.

  It was the very fact that they were so solidly on the same wavelength that she was lying where she was at the moment. Half dressed in an old, decidedly unsexy white bra and fleece leggings, with him shirtless and still in his belted khakis.

  “So, talk to me now,” she said quietly. “I don’t know if I can help, but I’ll do what I can.” She laid her head back down, thinking it might be easier to talk about what was troubling him if he could just speak into the dimly lit room without having to look at her, or anything specific. The tiny lamp on the bedside table had been on when he’d carried her in. It cast a small pool of golden-yellow light that didn’t reach much farther than the bed, creating a sense of intimacy, of privacy.

  He pressed another kiss on her head and rubbed his hand down her arm, pulling her more snugly against him. He was silent for a few moments; then he said, “We didn’t know—my brothers, my sister, or me—that George’s restaurant was going to be closed when I got here. I came up expecting to take over the reins for six weeks or so, mostly just so he’d have a family member overseeing operations. That’s kind of how we do things.

  “I thought it was odd that the place was deserted when I got here, locked up tight, but thought maybe I’d misunderstood George and he’d closed for a few days between his leaving and my arriving. I started placing orders online with his list of vendors on Sunday so we could hit the ground running Monday. Only no one showed up Monday morning, no deliveries, either. I waited before going to the fish market and grocer until the sous chef and at least one of the line crew arrived, but no one showed.”

  “Except me,” she said, understanding now why he’d been a bit distracted when she first got there. “I wondered the same thing,” she admitted. “If maybe your uncle had closed for a day or two.”

  “I started looking through his order folders, then his books, thinking maybe I missed something.”

  “You talked to him directly before coming, right?”

  “Briefly. George spoke first to my oldest brother, Lander, about setting it up. I talked to George directly while on the drive up here. He and Aunt Alethea were already at the airport. He just told me where to find things, who to call first, where he’d left the keys to the place and to his house. I . . . honestly, I didn’t think anything sounded unusual, even looking back on it. He was a bit flustered, but I could hear an announcement for their flight in the background, and I wrote it off to being excited about the trip, maybe nervous about flying. He hasn’t in a very long time, or so he told me.”

  “So, what is going on? Have you figured it out? Spoken to any of his employees? Or to him? Did your brother fill you in on anything else he might have said? Maybe it’s just a big misunderstanding.”

  “I reached out to the employees when no one showed up Monday. I haven’t heard back from any of them, which sounds odd, I know, but I think they’re protecting him, or covering for him—I don’t know. I could push it, but I want to know more first.”

  “It sounds like there’s something going on besides George just closing the place and not telling you.”

  He paused then, and she could feel and hear his sigh.

  “It’s okay, Caleb,” she told him. “Truly. Anything you tell me will stay between us. I won’t mention it to Sofia. But please don’t feel you need to—”

  “No, it might help to get your perspective. Cassi knows the whole story, but we’re both very close to the situation. So, we see things through a filter of family and long-standing traditions. It’s hard to be objective. You also understand the world of food, different from a place with a big staff, I know, but the dedication it takes to run a place and keep it going is much the same.”

  Bree listened as he told her about the money in and the money out not adding up, that they’d discovered George was behind in some of his utilities at the restaurant, and worse, he hadn’t been able to pay all of his staff. Caleb and Cassi hadn’t been able to find any big business expense to explain the lack of funds, or why he’d have gone about handling things as he had.

  “Do you think it was this big trip to Greece?”

  “I don’t know. From what we gather, they’re staying with fa
mily for the most part, same as I’ve done in the past. That’s also tradition. Our relatives there would be insulted if we didn’t. I’m sure there will be some sightseeing and so on, but this would not be an outrageously expensive trip. It’s likely he’ll never pay for a single meal there, either. Cassi is going to look to see what she can find while she’s out at the house, bank records or whatever might shed some light.”

  “This might sound obvious, but why don’t you just call him?”

  Caleb sighed. “That’s the tricky part. George did this for a reason. I’m guessing it’s pride based, but he didn’t tell anyone. And we’re not sure what Alethea knows. I can’t imagine she’d have let him whisk her off to Greece for more than a month if she knew the business was failing. Well, it’s not failing, it seems to be quite healthy, but something is failing.”

  “Maybe you send him a text or e-mail or something, tell him to pick a time he can make a private call. Clearly he has to know the moment you got here you’d realize things weren’t on the up-and-up.”

  “He’s not a big technology guy. He doesn’t do texting. Alethea handles all the phone interaction. I’m not sure who would see an e-mail first, either.”

  Bree sighed. “You’re right. It is complicated. What about your brothers? What do they say?”

  “They’re great men, both of them, but a bit older than us, and a lot more old-school. They’d want to rally the troops and get the whole extended family on board. And trust me, there’s nothing the Castellanoses and Dimitrious love more than some family drama or excitement. Any excuse to cook way too much moussaka and baklava, and gather around to solve everyone else’s problems.” He smiled. “Don’t get me wrong. I have the most wonderfully big-hearted family ever, and they would literally give their home to someone in need, but they are a lot all at once, and they never forget. Anything. George could have put the word out himself and they’d have dropped everything and come running.”