by Hughes, Maya
He cursed under his breath and dragged his fingers through his hair. “She’s stranded.”
“I can go.” Jumping up from the couch, I looked for my coat. It would give me a chance to talk to her about putting the final touches on his birthday party. “I’ll go get her. You don’t have time to get there and back.” I grabbed his arm as he was already halfway out the door.
“I can make it.”
“Berk, you don’t even know what she needs.”
“She needs me,” he snapped. “I’m not going to ignore her.”
I jumped at the sharpness in his tone.
“I never said I wanted you to not help her.” My fingers bit into his bicep. “Let me come with you. Then, if she needs something I can stay, or once you know she’s okay you can leave and I can get her back here or to her place—”
He stopped, and turned back to me. “Sorry.”
A flicker of hope.
“She asked me to come alone. And I need to extract her from whatever mess she’s stumbled into again.” He slipped his hand around the back of my neck, running his callused pads against my nape. “Thank you for offering and being so concerned, but I’ve got this. And it’s better if I go alone. I can handle it.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine in a feather-light kiss. His small smile of reassurance did anything but.
* * *
The bead-encrusted, long-sleeved dress was exactly the kind of thing I’d hoped Laura would choose for her bridesmaids. It had a high scoop neck that highlighted my collarbones. The flowing skirt was forgiving on the hips and thighs—and I couldn’t help but think that Berk would hate it. I could see him now, ruffling the skirt of it, looking for a slit or threatening to make it a backless dress.
I ran my fingers along the gentle pleating and gathering, letting the smooth fabric glide across my skin. I was fairly exposed, for me, but it felt okay. And I didn’t feel like I wanted to grab the nearest hoodie and jeans. When had I started feeling like a parka wasn’t the only appropriate form of clothing for me? Maybe when a certain football player made it loud and clear that he appreciated every bit of skin he got to touch.
“Julia.” The harsh snap of my name from my mom was even more biting than usual.
I shook my head. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
She looked at me through my reflection in the mirror.
“Will we have to let this dress out before the wedding or are you going to hold yourself together until then?”
The barbs didn’t sink as deeply as they used to. “I’ve been the exact same weight for the past two years, Mom.”
“Part of the problem. But if you’re around temptation in that bakery every day…”
“Mom, please, can you not.” Laura touched Mom’s arm. “It looks very nice, Jules.”
That was the first time she’d ever called me Jules. And stuck up for me in front of Mom.
Mom sniffed. “All I’m trying to do is make sure your day is memorable. That everyone will be talking about it for months to come.”
“I know. Thank you. It will all be just like you planned.” A flicker of an emotion that wasn’t anywhere near that of a gleeful bride crossed Laura’s face. “Perfect.”
“It will be.” Mom looked at Laura like she’d never looked at me. Like she wanted nothing but the best for Laura—like she loved her. I looked away from the mother-daughter display and stepped away from the mirrors.
Mom stood. “I’ll try on my gown and then we can go get lunch.”
“I’ve got to go to my internship.”
“The invitation wasn’t an open one. You should be watching your weight, anyway.” And with that little nugget of preciousness, Mom swanned out of the room.
“Jules…” Laura trailed off and raised her hands in a futile attempt to smooth things over. “Are you okay after the internet stuff? With the bakery and Berk?” She pulled me down to sit beside her on the champagne-colored couches opposite the wall of mirrors.
I was surprised she’d even heard about that. “I am now. Thanks for asking.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were working at B&B? I love that place. I watched some of your videos.” She looked at me out of the corner of her eye like we were passing notes behind the teacher’s back. “You two are so fun together. And everything you bake makes me want to eat my phone screen.”
“Really?” I leaned closer, still not sure I’d heard what she’d said. Was she being sarcastic? She actually liked what I was doing? In all the years I’d baked, she’d never even tried anything I’d made, as far as I could tell. But she’d watched my videos. Emotions welled up inside of me, a longing for the kind of closeness I’d always wanted with her. But the cautious side of me reined them in. I’d had my hopes kicked like a puppy by her once already, but she looked so sincere.
“It’s easy to see how much you love it. And it reminds me so much of Dad. I’d come back from shopping with Mom and the place would feel so warm and smell so good. You two always loved spending time in the kitchen together.” There was a hint of sadness there.
“You could come by to watch us film sometime.”
“That would be okay with Avery?”
“Of course, but you’d have to put up with Max. Some of her snark might burn a bit, but you get used to it. Don’t let the tattoos fool you—she’s secretly nice.”
“Max Hale?”
“Pretty sure that’s her last name.”
“Holy crap.” She looked over her shoulder. “I tried to get an appointment with her for my cake.” She leaned in like this was a state secret. “Mom vetoed it, of course, and it didn’t matter anyway because her waiting list is, like, eighteen months long, but, damn, her stuff is amazing. There was one at a charity event I went to a couple weeks ago. Everyone couldn’t stop talking about it—usually those things look beautiful but taste terrible, but it was amazing.” Her eyes widened. “Nothing like what you’ve made, but it was so good.”
“No offense taken. I’ll send her your compliments. And I’ll let you know the next time we’re filming something. We’ve taken a little bit of a hiatus.”
“Since the incident?”
I nodded.
Mom came back in with her just off-white enough to pass as a not-white gown.
That’s when I spotted it. An eye roll almost imperceptible to the naked eye, but Laura did it. She caught my gaze and every muscle in her body tensed. I did my own much more exaggerated eye roll and she buried her face in her shoulder.
“Something entertaining happening?” Mom stared at me in the mirror.
Covering my laugh with a cough, I lifted my hand to my mouth. “Nothing, Mom, just something funny a friend did.”
“Hopefully it’s nothing you’re involved in that might cause us even more embarrassment.”
“Nope, just a video of me pole dancing.” And with that, I excused myself to change.
There would never be anything I could do to change her. It was time I accepted that and stopped looking to my mom to be anything more than she’d ever been to me. I didn’t need to keep putting myself through the torture that came with trying to please her.
My worst nightmare had happened. I’d been exposed up on the internet in front of everyone. I’d had intimate details of my inner thoughts flung up online—and I was still here. Breathing, laughing, and living.
Since my dad’s death, I’d always hidden and tried to fade into the background. Better to have someone glance right past me than see me and decide they didn’t like what they saw. Well, I’d had that anonymity ripped away from me like the world’s stickiest Band-Aid. Damn, had it hurt, and I’d been red and raw for a while, but now that it was done I had one word for anyone who had a problem with me—fuck you. Well, that was two words, but you get my drift.
Did I want to lose weight and be able to squeeze into clothes I could buy in any store, even those places Laura and Mom visited regularly? Sure.
Would I ever be one of those girls? Who the hell knew? But I deserved to be
happy just as I was, regardless of size, and I deserved the love of someone like Berk. And I wasn’t going to let my doubts about my self-worth get in the way of that anymore.
I came out of the changing room and waved bye to Mom and Laura, who mouthed ‘sorry’ to me. Maybe we could salvage something of our relationship if we were out from under the watchful eye of our mother.
* * *
The smells from B&B wafted down the street over a block away. My stomach rumbled. I rummaged around in my bag for my power bar. I’d learned the hard lesson about filling up on cream-filled donuts and cupcakes at the shop. Hello, stomach ache. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson baking at home, but something about having someone else craft these delicious treats was like a sugar-coated drug.
I pushed the backdoor open. “Hey, Avery.”
“Hey.” There was a gentle slope to the way she said the word. It held all the questions without needing to say more. Glad you’re here. Are you okay? Is there anything I can do for you?
“I’m here and ready to work.”
“We’re not going to record anything today, but I figured the three of us could work on some stuff. How’s that sound?”
“Perfect.”
“Why don’t you go grab Max and we can get started?” Avery wrapped the apron around her waist, her bump meaning she couldn’t wrap it around and tie it in the front like she usually did.
With all the time I’d been at B&B I’d never been in Max’s store. I’d passed by the outside, but she was always at Avery’s and I was usually trying to keep myself from hyperventilating ninety percent of the time, so tours weren’t on my to-do list.
The door that connected the shops was in the front, right beside the front-of-house tables where customers sat and the cases housing everything that Avery and the rest of her team made.
On the other side, it was like I’d been transported into a trendy industrial loft. Exposed brick covered one wall and the duct work ran along the ceiling. A spray-painted intricate woven flower design covered one whole wall. The bright colors matched Max’s tattoos and hair color perfectly.
“Max,” I called out.
There were sofas and a small table along one side of the room.
Black and gray slate serving platters were lined up alongside the massive bar, all lit up with bottles of booze and bubbly. That was one way to get people to shell out a shit-ton on cakes. Get them drunk. Maybe I could get her to make something small for Laura since she’d talked about how much she loved Max’s work.
I peeked into the back room.
Max had headphones in. The long white cables disappeared into her pocket.
Massive mixers and ovens were crammed into the small space. The heat had to be crazy when it was all going.
She sat on a steel stool with her foot bouncing around on the bottom rung and her hair held back from her face.
It was freezing despite her previous assertions that it was hot in the back, but her steady hand spackled an intricate design using a mini version of what someone laying plaster might use.
“It’s beautiful.” I dropped my hand onto her shoulder.
A yelp erupted from her mouth, and she jumped off the stool and spun around, whipping the ear buds out of her ears.
“Jesus, Jules! You scared the shit out of me.” She clutched the front of her shirt and set down her icing trowel.
“Sorry.” I held up my hands in surrender, still laughing.
“Yeah, I can tell from your face you’re real sorry. Next time you’ll meet the business end of my spatula.”
Draped across her workbench was a black suit jacket and tie.
“Looks like someone’s been getting some business ends taken care of back here.” I lifted the jacket, holding it out with my finger. The label inside the jacket was hand stitched in. And the designer…
“Max, whose jacket is this?” My gaze swung to hers.
She grabbed it off my finger. “No one’s.” She shoved it and the tie into a filing cabinet and slammed the metal drawer shut.
“You can’t scrunch and shove a jacket like that. It’s worth, like, all the money.” I reached for the handle.
With a quick smack to my hand, she bumped me out of the way. “And I’m sure it’s long forgotten. Avery said we were waiting on you to get the recipes for the next round of videos just right.” She stopped and turned. “How are you doing?”
I turned my hands palm up and shrugged. “Still breathing.”
“Sometimes that’s all we hang onto.” A flicker of sadness flashed across her eyes. “Let’s get to work.”
We worked together on the recipes, with Max swiping more than her fair share from the trays ready to go out front.
“It’s a wonder you manage to get any to the customers with her around.”
“Tell me about it. I think I’ve had to increase my overall production by twelve percent to take the Max Factor into account.”
“I’m right here, you know.” Max’s words were muffled through the funnel cake donut she was inhaling.
One of the girls from the front poked her head through the swinging doors. “Someone’s here for you.”
“For me?” Avery wiped her hands on her apron.
“No, for Max.”
“For me?” she choked out from behind the sugar-coated pastry.
“Tall guy. Looks like he should be riding a white stallion through Fairmount Park.”
Max jumped down off the counter and walked to the door, peering out the small window. “Shit. Not him.” She stood with her back to the door, mumbling to herself before lifting her head and catching our open-mouthed, wide-eyed gazes.
“There’s a dude here to see you?” Avery rushed around the counter.
Max stopped her with two hands to the chest. “Oh, no, you don’t. Let me get rid of him and I’ll be right back.” She pushed backward through the swinging door.
Avery and I rushed to the door and looked out the window.
“Damn, he’s tall.”
“He’s the jacket guy.” I could spot that tailored style anywhere. I relayed my earlier discovery of a bespoke blazer that could pay the rent for a city block for a week, and Avery stared even harder, like she’d be able to hear through the door if her eyesight were a little better.
“I guess it wasn’t long forgotten after all.”
Max threw her hands up and grabbed him by his impeccably tailored sleeve and dragged him outside.
Instead of closing the door after him, she went out with him and they both disappeared around the corner.
“I can’t wait to wring this story out of her.” Avery crossed her arms over her chest with a wide grin.
37
Berk
The semester and our season marched forward until they ground to a halt at the one spot in my life that made me feel like a seven-year-old kid again. I read his text over ten times sitting outside of the location he’d dropped a pin on.
Hey, Kid, I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure, but here’s the last address I have for Elizabeth Vaughn. Sorry I couldn’t deliver this to you sooner and sorry it’s not better news.
Leaving Jules that morning with a kiss on the forehead while she slept, I’d driven for two hours. Through my windshield, I stared up at the wrought-iron fence with the block letters welded in place.
Dayton Memorial Cemetery.
I don’t know how long I sat in my car staring up at the gray sky hoping this was a mistake, that he’d screwed me over and made this all up. I got out of the car and freezing rain pelted my skin, stinging and numbing at the same time. The vise grip in my chest blotted out everything else. Rain soaked into my thermal, weighed my jeans down, and sent rivulets of water into my sneakers.
The dude behind the small desk in the little shack by the entrance jumped when I tugged the door open.
He wiped a napkin over his face and stood as I got closer to his desk. “Did you need some help?”
Water dripped off the ends of my hair and
poured down my face. My body was rocked by shivers, my lips trembling with the cold and emotions I tried to hold tight, but the edges were fraying and I was teetering at the precipice.
“I’m looking for someone.” My voice was harsh and gravelly. I slid the damp piece of paper with her name on it across the desk to him. The ink had run, making my handwriting barely legible.
His eyes widened and he stared down at it. His gaze narrowed and he looked from me to the paper.
“I need to know if she’s here.”
Peeling the paper off the desk, he lifted it and went to his computer. Each press of the keys made it harder for me to see. The warmth of the tears pooling in my eyes was sharp against my frozen skin.
He took a bite of his sandwich like what he said didn’t have the ability to shred my world. “We have an Elizabeth Anne Vaughn.”
“Her middle name was Caroline.” A zing of hope rushed through me. Maybe Mason hadn’t been as good as I thought. Maybe he’d fucked this up and gotten it wrong.
“Hmm.” He scrolled a little more, the sharp noise of his mouse setting my teeth on edge.
“Elizabeth Caroline Vaughn. Born on August twenty-eighth.” I sent up a prayer to no one in particular. Please let this be wrong.
With a click of his mouse, he glanced from his screen back to me.
“Looks like we have your Elizabeth over on plot 837.”
“Are you sure?” I braced my hands on the desk.
He tilted his screen so I could see. Her full name. Her birthday. All right there in black and white.
“Hang on, kid.”
The rest of his words were drowned out by the roar in my ears and the hammering of the rain. The door slammed behind me and I flew back outside and into my car. I didn’t want his pity.
My breath collected in front of my face in a puff of steam. Each mini cloud dissipated and clung to the windshield, fogging it up from the inside.
A primal scream ripped from my throat, raw and unstoppable.
My phone buzzed and pinged in the cup holder.
Dragging my gaze from the nothingness in front of me, I picked it up. The last message rolled in. The angry sliver of red at the end of the battery icon mocked my stupidity for not keeping it charged and not having a cable with me.