She held up her hand to stop me, smiling sweetly. Too sweetly. It seemed fake. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I can barely stand to be in the same room with you for a few minutes. And it would be easier to pretend to be in love with you if you started calling me by the right freaking name.”
“Sorry. Elaina. Old habits die hard, you know?”
“Well how about you make this old habit die a little easier, huh?”
God, she was a hard-ass. It’s one of the things I love so much about her. The thought made my spine go stiff. Loved. Past tense, not present. Christ, what was wrong with me? “I’ll work on it. Promise.”
“This could work, Neil,” she said. “It has to work.” Her tongue briefly swiped across her lips as she considered the possibility.
God, I hope she’s right.
The next day at the bakery, my heart just wasn’t into it. In theory, I should have been thrilled.
Thankfully, Liam took note of my sour mood and put me to work in the back, baking for today’s orders rather than out front dealing with customers.
“What’s your deal, Neil?” I heard Mom’s voice from behind me, just as I was pulling out a batch of her favorite low-carb, sugar-free muffins. I was so startled, I nearly dropped the tin. Luckily, I caught the muffin tray with my other hand before it hit the ground.
“Mom!” I placed the muffins on the counter and fanned them with an empty baking sheet. “You scared the crap out of me.”
She smiled and adjusted the pink scarf that she’d tied around her bald head. “Sorry,” she said with a shrug. But we both knew she wasn’t.
I grinned and leaned down to kiss her cheek, tugging gently on the end of the scarf. “This is a pretty one. Where’d you get it?”
“Elaina Dyker sent it to me last week.”
My smile wobbled as I heard her name, but I quickly regained my composure. “It’s beautiful on you.”
Mom waved away my compliment, and I studied her. It was a good day. Her cheeks were a rosy pink, her eyes bright, lips mauve with a bit of lipstick. Any time Mom put on makeup, we knew she was feeling well.
“So, what are you up to today?”
She gave a non-committal shrug. “A little this. A little that.”
And just like that, my mood soured. “Did Liam call you to come talk to me?” That would be just like my little brother… to call in Mom as reinforcement.
She arched a brow. “No, he didn’t. But should he have?”
I grunted something that sort of sounded like no.
“I like the changes to the bakery.” She jerked her head toward the front door. “I can’t say I fit the Beefcakes branding as well as you boys do,” she added with a wink. “But it’s fun and brings something really new and unique to the town. A town which, let’s face it, already has a lot of bakeries per square foot.”
“Yeah, but yours is the OG.”
“OG?”
I rolled my eyes playfully at my mom and grabbed a hot muffin out of the tin, sliding it to her. “It means original, Mom.”
“Ah,” she said, nodding. “Yes. I suppose I am. Even though I opened after Elsa’s cafe over at the Maple Grove Inn did, they were only a diner back then—serving bad coffee and greasy eggs. I was the only place in town that served fresh baked goods.” Mom sighed wistfully.
“I’m surprised you’re not embarrassed by what your Cupcakery has become.” I watched as she peeled away the paper liner of her muffin. She immediately lowered her hands to the counter, her smile shifting to a frown.
“Embarrassed? How could I be embarrassed by you two? You’ve turned this place into the most successful bakery Maple Grove has ever seen.”
I snorted and shook my head, continuing to move the muffins onto a cooling rack one by one. “Successful because of what? Our muscles and good looks? It’s not based on baking or merit or anything real.”
“Hey.” My mom’s suddenly serious voice snapped me out of my self-deprecating fog. “Come here.” Mom took my elbow and tugged me toward the door, opening it just a crack to reveal a sliver of the busy shop. “What do you see?”
I saw a group of bachelorettes in cleavage-bearing tops talking with Liam and batting their unnaturally long eyelashes. “Customers,” I said, opting for the more appropriate answer.
I moved to go back into the kitchen, but Mom held tight to my elbow, yanking me back into place beside her. “Well, let me tell you what I see, then. I see a shy bride who’s been brought here by her girlfriends. Those girlfriends knew she would never want to go to a strip club, but this place was just naughty enough for their introverted best friend to get a little wild before her wedding.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at my mom. “You have no idea if that’s true, though.”
“It is for some customers. I’ve been getting thank you emails stating just that. And you know who else I see out there?” She pointed beyond the group of bachelorettes. “I see Belinda and her son, Cayden, who has Type I diabetes. He can finally have treats that she doesn’t have the time to make herself … because of you.”
I swallowed, seeing the little boy bouncing up and down in line, hardly able to contain his excitement. His hand clutched his mother’s tightly as he grinned, straining his neck to see into the pastry case. Emotion rose up my throat. Come to think of it… I’d seen them in here a couple of times in the last three weeks. They always bought our sugar-free, low-carb options. But I’d been so annoyed by the giggling gaggles of women, it never occurred to me who else might be enjoying my recipes.
“You know who else I see?”
I opened my mouth to stop her, but the emotion that tightened my chest now clogged my throat as I looked beyond Cayden and saw two of my Mom’s friends from her cancer support group. Tears filled my eyes. “Rita and Carlie,” I finally managed to say.
Mom nodded, squeezing my arm. “Also, my friend Marianne. You don’t know her well, but she’s been trying to lose weight for years. She always complained about how hard it was for her to go out because there were too many tempting things on the menu.” Mom smiled and pointed at a beautiful, younger woman sitting by the cafe window. She had lush curves, and as she sipped a cup of coffee and smiled at a man sitting across from her, she laughed, throwing her head back as the sound filled the bakery.
This was why I started baking in the first place. I loved the joy on people’s faces when they ate my baked goods. And I loved the shock when they realized they were sugar free and low carb. I loved that I was able to make my mom something that she could still eat, despite the cancer growing in her body.
Was that Elaina Dyker sitting in the corner at an empty table? She had her laptop open and was typing furiously. No… seriously, my eyes had to be deceiving me. Before I could investigate further, Mom shut the door and pulled me back into the kitchen. “My point is, hon, people are coming here for a lot of reasons. It’s your own demons that have you convinced that it’s only to see you and your brother half-naked. But the truth is? You could serve these muffins in a parka and still get a ton of business. Be proud of what you’ve built. And if you don’t want to be out there shirtless, tell your brother to shove it.”
I chuckled and wrapped my arms around my mom for a hug. I missed out on so many years with her when I moved away. And now? What if I didn’t have much time left? I had wasted so much of the precious time I had on this earth with her pursuing a stupid dream of fame and bodybuilding. Wasted all that time because I was too embarrassed to face her and say that I wasn’t going to graduate high school.
“I don’t mind the shirtless thing,” I said. “I guess I’m used to it is all. But also… tired of it. Tired of being seen and cared about only when my muscles are showing.”
“Well…” Mom shrugged and grabbed a few of the muffins. “They might come in once for the muscles. But they’ll keep coming in because you’re a talented baker. A wise businessman knows their gimmick or their hook but doesn’t rely solely on that. Let these muscles boost your brand if you’r
e comfortable with it. Let that Mr. Universe title help you here. But don’t lose sight of creating a good product. That’s where many people go wrong. They get lazy.”
Well that was something I never had to worry about. I was a lot of things… but lazy wasn’t one of them. “Thanks, Mom.”
“The reality show is just another gimmick. It will bring fame and popularity, yes. But it’s an opportunity that so many other small business owners would kill for. So, don’t shit all over it. See it for what it is… a tool. Not the end all be all. Much like your meme, it’ll pass. Let your talent shine through.”
“And… there’s the half a million dollars, right Mom?” I grinned.
“That couldn’t hurt, either,” she added. “But with or without the money, we’ll be just fine.”
I was starting to believe her when her phone alarm went off. The signal that it was time for her to take more meds… more poison that would hopefully kill the cancer before it killed her. She sighed, set down the muffins she had grabbed, and unzipped her fanny pack of medicine. I crossed to the sink and poured her a glass of water.
“Thanks.” She took the water glass from my hands and swallowed a handful of pills like a champ.
That’s why I had no choice but to do this show. She’s why I had no choice. I may not have chosen family before when I was young and dumb, but I wasn’t about to repeat those mistakes from my past.
“Now,” Mom finished gulping her pills and set the empty water glass back into my sink. “Would you care to join me for my meeting with Elaina?”
“Your… your what?”
She linked her arm through mine and tugged me out into the bakery. “Come on, Beefcake. Let’s see what she’s got for us.”
The door nearly hit me in the ass as Mom dragged me out front.
“Neil.” Elaina looked up, her teeth sliding over her bottom lip. She smiled, and even though it wobbled a little, she was still utterly gorgeous. Nerves and arousal tumbled down my spine. “I…” she stuttered, glancing at my mother beside me.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Mom said. “It was Neil’s lunch break, and I barely get to see him anymore with how busy the bakery is.” Then, she turned, waving over Rita and Carlie. “And these are my friends from my cancer support group. Rita and Carlie, meet Elaina Dyker.”
The other two women reached out and shook Elaina’s hand firmly. Rita adjusted her auburn wig and muttered, “These damn things are so itchy.”
Carlie snorted a laugh and elbowed her gently. “That’s why we don’t bother anymore. You’ll see. Those wigs just aren’t worth the trouble.”
“Yes,” Mom said, dramatically fanning her hand across her face. “Embrace the bald!”
Elaina and I each chuckled, our eyes briefly meeting. “It’s nice to meet you all,” Elaina said. “Thanks so much for coming.”
I held out the chairs for the women, waiting until they had all sat down before I dragged a chair over from an empty table and took a seat between my mom and Elaina.
“So, what’s this about, Elaina?” Mom asked.
“Well, the other night at dinner… I had an idea because of something you said,” she glanced quickly at me with a nervous swipe of her tongue across those plump lips. “I want to buy the old mill in town and convert it into a healthcare outreach clinic.”
My heart skipped a beat, and my sinuses tingled. “What?”
Her eyes connected with mine, and I could have sworn there was a sheen of tears. For a moment… she was Lainey again. But in a blink, the tears were gone. Back was the town manager, Elaina, and she nodded briefly. “A healthcare outreach clinic,” she restated. “I’ve already gotten the cardiac department from Mercy Hospital and a physical therapy center to sign on.” She rolled out a sheet of paper that had been beside her. “But… I would love for there to be an oncology wing,” she said quietly.
Carlie, my mom, and Rita were speechless, sitting across from her. It wasn’t until I felt my mom’s hand cover mine and squeeze that I realized she had even heard Elaina. “Elaina,” Mom whispered. Her voice cracked, full of emotion that I hadn’t heard from my mother since the initial phone call with her diagnosis. She was not a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve. Mom lifted her fist in front of her mouth and cleared her throat before speaking again. This time, it came out clearer. “This is incredible, Elaina.”
Rita yanked a tissue from within her bra and dabbed her eyes, black eyeliner already smearing down her face.
Carlie banged her fist against the table, and I nearly laughed as Elaina jumped at the loud sound. “What do you need from us to make this happen?”
Elaina’s smile widened. “I cannot get anyone from the oncology department to call me back to even propose this to them. I was wondering… hoping… you had a number. Or even just a name of someone I could speak to.”
“Robert Hughes,” Carlie said quickly. “He’s the hospital administrator for our cancer center.”
“Robert Hughes,” Elaina repeated beneath her breath as she scribbled his name down in a notebook beside her.
“But,” Mom added. “If you really want to win him over with this… first talk to Abby Sumner. She’s the head nurse practitioner there. She has almost everyone wrapped around her finger. She’s a hard-ass, but if you can convince her, you can win over Robert, too.”
Elaina nodded, writing her name down as well. “What do you know about Ms. Sumner?”
Mom’s smile quirked higher. “For one thing… she’s married to Robert Hughes. And they have a summer house over on Lake Winnesquam, only fifteen minutes from here.”
My gaze swung to Elaina’s just in time to catch her grin spread wide. “Sounds like a good incentive to get them on board with opening a facility in the Lakes Region.”
Rita leaned in, her painted-on eyebrows raising. “I heard that she’s been wanting to move up there more full time… get their son out of Boston because he’s been getting into trouble down there.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. These women… even in the cancer ward, they were the gossips of the town.
Elaina bit her bottom lip, taking copious notes. “This is gold, ladies, thank you.”
Mom strummed her fingers over the table. “You know,” she said. “Abby is usually my nurse when I go in for treatments. You could join me at one of my appointments… talk to her then? Sort of an informal meeting to get the ball rolling.”
Elaina’s gaze jerked up from her notes, her blue eyes wide. “You would do that for me?”
“For you?” Mom laughed and broke off a bit of the muffin I had given her. “Honey, this outreach center will benefit all of us.”
“What would they do there?” Carlie asked, leaning onto her elbows. “Could we get our treatments there?”
Elaina shrugged. “That will be entirely up to the hospital donations. For the cardiac center, they aren’t planning to do transplants there. But they do want it set up to be able to handle surgical emergencies. Its main purpose will be to provide post-op check-ups as well as physical therapy after cardiac arrests and surgeries. So, for oncology, it will all depend on what the hospital wants to donate and how many of their resources they can afford to provide.”
“It’s a great place for an outreach clinic,” I said, and Elaina’s eyes swung to mine.
“You think?” she asked.
Her question surprised me. “You don’t?”
“No… no, I do. I’m just trying to prepare for any counter arguments I might get.”
“Well,” I added, “Maple Grove is in the dead center of about five Lakes Region towns. They wouldn’t just be getting clientele from one town… but several. Patients might choose to come to this center from even farther away rather than drive into Boston, which can be stressful. It’s a nicer drive here, for sure. A more relaxing setting to heal.”
Elaina scribbled more notes down, flicking me a brief smile before continuing.
“Now, this is just a preliminary sketch,” she said, pointing to the drawing she had ro
lled out on the table. “But the old mill is five floors and roughly fifty thousand square feet. Filling the entire space with donated medical equipment might be a challenge, but I’ll worry about that later.”
The three women leaned in to see the plans closer, and beside us, a woman cleared her throat. I looked up to find Belinda and her son, Cayden, now with a cupcake in hand, licking the icing from his fingers. “I’m sorry to interrupt… but I overheard. There might be a healthcare outreach clinic coming to town?”
Elaina sucked in a sharp breath, her mouth opening as she glanced briefly at Cayden before answering. “It’s something we’re working on, though I don’t want to make any promises.”
Belinda bent to Cayden, ushering him into a seat at the table beside us and handing him an iPad. “Here honey, you play your game for a moment while Mommy talks to these nice women.”
“Awesome!” Cayden exclaimed as he started playing with his iPad.
Belinda stood, crossing back to us. “I don’t allow a lot of screen time, so this is a treat.” She took a deep breath. “I’d love to talk with you about the possibility of adding a diabetes center to the clinic,” she said. “We drive up to Portsmouth for his doctor and even though we could go to the hospital, that’s not ideal. Last year, he had an episode and we rushed to the ER, only to find that they didn’t have the medicine we needed there. He needed to be airlifted to Boston. We nearly lost him.”
I winced. “That must have been terrifying,” I said.
“Not to mention expensive as hell,” Carlie added.
Belinda nodded. “You have no idea.” A tear fell down her cheek. “My husband and I have talked so many times about moving closer to Portsmouth. It would be a terrible commute for work…” she glanced at her son, a sad smile splayed on her lips. “But it would be worth it. But now… if this opened up here, maybe we wouldn’t have to move.”
My gaze fell to Cayden, my gut twisting as I saw the sweet kid playing his game. He had several Band-Aids wrapped around his fingers from what I could only assume were blood sugar tests.
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