Take the Cake (5 page)

She picked up the small sheet of paper and flapped it to illustrate her point, and then put it down with a slight laugh. “Mind you, this isn’t exactly
War and Peace
. It’s just a note to say I was thinking of them and a really bad joke that’s going to make them groan, but it’s still something.”

“I admire you for that,” Michael said in a quiet voice.

She looked at him in surprise. “What on earth for?”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t have much luck writing anything lately. I don’t think I could manage something complicated like a letter.”

“Want a tip about that?” she whispered. She leaned forward, looking conspiratorial and Michael instinctively leaned toward her.

“Sure,” he whispered back.

“Say what you have to say and then stop. Don’t labor at it so much.”

Michael stared at her for a moment, and then began to laugh. If only she knew. He was still chuckling when she looked up to a summons from the counter.

“Gotta go. Sounds like the Pocket Rocket needs me. It was nice meeting you, Michael.”

“You too,” he replied with a smile. He knew her name. He knew the bakery name. She’d given him more words today. He watched as she gathered up her paper then left the table, running a hand over his shoulder in passing. Michael lifted his hand to grasp her fingers, but she was gone. He watched as she disappeared into the kitchen, and looked up a few minutes later as she re-emerged. She was stuffing the notepaper into a stamped envelope, and she left the store.

Michael sat watching her as she walked over to a mailbox on the other side of the street. She stood gazing at the envelope for a moment, kissed it, and popped it into the slot. She patted the mailbox for good measure and returned to the store, grinning at Michael in passing as she walked through the store and back into the kitchen.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” a voice said beside him.

“Yes,” he replied in an absent tone, and then jerked back to awareness as someone giggled. “Sorry, what?”

He looked up to see a small woman with close-cropped hair and a knowing grin, regarding him as she picked up his empty coffee cup from the table. Wren, he remembered.

“I said is there anything else you’d like?”

“Uh …” Out of reflex, he looked at his watch. “Not just now. I should probably be going.”

“Kate had to take a phone call, but she wanted me to give you this with our compliments,” Wren explained, extending a cupcake on a plate toward him. “It’s our daily special.”

Michael glanced at it then back at her. “What’s this one called?”

“
Vegan rehab
.” She grinned, and then added, “Private joke.”

“Right,” he said, accepting the cake and standing up. “Please tell Kate,” he felt a stab of pleasure at being able to use her name, “that I said thanks.”

“Will do,” Wren replied, stepping away and eyeing him appreciatively. “And I’m sure we’ll see you here again some time,” she added in an assured tone. “And just so you know, she’s single.”

Michael’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to work out if he’d heard her right. Wren leaned forward.

“She’s single, you know, available,” she repeated. “Just thought you’d like to know is all.” She winked.

Michael stood in quiet amazement as he watched her collect some cups off nearby tables and take them out to the back, humming to herself as she worked. He waited for a moment longer, but Kate didn’t reappear, so he quietly left the store. Half a block later, he began to eat the cupcake. It was good.

As he walked, his thoughts wandered back over his afternoon, and he shook his head. He had established a comfortable routine for himself, but that routine had faltered when his inspiration had seemingly run dry.  By some chance, he had found his way into the bakery. Not once, but three times now. Today he had spent the afternoon reading a children’s book and talking to a woman who made him feel rested and exhilarated all at once. It was a curious sensation, and he liked it.

CHAPTER 4

Cake and Sunshine

Kate opened her eyes seconds before the alarm began to sound, and then reached out to switch it off. She lay there for a moment, gazing at the framed photograph that sat beside the clock, and reached out to gently trace the image’s face with a forefinger. No dawdling this morning. She showered and dressed quickly and in silence. The only noises in the apartment were the ambient sounds drifting in from the street and the occasional sounds of water running, the blast of the hairdryer, the clatter of jewelry being selected and discarded, and then the jangle of keys and hurried footsteps.

The slam of the door resonated in the silence.

~~~

Mouthing the lyrics to the song blaring through her iPod headphones, Wren glanced at her watch and picked up the pace. She had skipped breakfast but would be able to fix something to eat once she got to work. Dodging her way through traffic, she crossed the street and broke into a light jog. Rounding the corner, she breathed a sigh of relief; she was still running ahead of Kate so her record remained unbroken. She’d made a note of the date yesterday and knew that today was going to be set apart from the norm. She looked further ahead down the block and saw Kate approaching.

“Morning, boss,” she called a moment later.

“Wren, don’t call me boss,” Kate replied with a smile that tried but didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Sorry, boss.” Wren waited for Kate to unlock the door, then walked inside and dumped her bag on the counter. First things first: she grabbed a piece of chalk and got the chalkboard ready for the day. By the time she’d hung it up outside, Kate had two coffees ready and was getting out the supplies for the first batch of cupcakes. Conversation was at a minimum, but Wren had known to expect it. She switched on the stereo, selected a disc, and before long, Dido’s soothing voice permeated the store.

A quick peek around the corner revealed Kate concentrating on the industrial-sized cake mixer, breaking eggs with total focus on the task at hand. Wren stood there for a moment, then turned and went back to filling up the stainless steel jugs with filtered water. She added slices of lemon and fresh mint and set the jugs out on the small self-service table near the end of the counter. She looked up as Emily arrived and greeted her with a smile.

“Hey, babe,” she said as Emily drew near. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Emily said gratefully. “I overslept so had to hightail it over here.”

“That reminds me.” Wren snapped her fingers. “I didn’t get to have breakfast so I’ll see if there’s any—” She broke off as Kate appeared with a small plate.

“Warm, savory cheese and herb scones with plenty of butter,” Kate said with a small smile. “That should keep you guys going for a while,” she added before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Emily nodded her thanks and watched Kate disappear before turning to Wren with an inquiring look when Kate offered little more than a smile in return.

“Is she okay?” she whispered.

“She’ll be fine,” Wren said in a confident tone. “Today is just going to be a bit hard on our girl, so we’ll have to be gentle.”

“Oh?”

Wren could tell that Emily wanted to ask more but wasn’t going to impose. She felt a rush of appreciation for Emily’s quiet nature and goodwill. She had done the right thing bringing her on board, especially on a day like today.

The two women got busy with the morning routine and enjoyed their breakfast while they worked. After stacking their plates in the dishwasher, Wren paused to peer into the kitchen and stopped short.

“Whoa, you got busy.”

Kate had delivered the first batch of cupcakes to Wren and had personally taken care of the window display, before retreating to the kitchen again. She had worked methodically all morning, and now there were over five dozen cupcakes iced and decorated, waiting to be put on display. Wren regarded her for a long moment. Kate couldn’t return her gaze.

“You gotta bail for a while?” she asked. Kate nodded and bit her lip. Wren stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. “All right, then, take care of you,” Wren said in a soft voice before releasing her and stepped back out into the shop area. Kate stood blinking against the rush of moisture, and then gathered up her bag. She left the store without a word, leaving Wren and Emily standing behind the counter in silence watching her go. Kate stood outside and looked at the chalkboard then back at Wren, offering a small but genuine smile before she left.

~~~

Michael shambled toward the television, yawning and stretching, pausing to grab the waistband of his pajama bottoms that slipped perilously low on his hips as he picked up the remote. He turned toward the sofa, aiming the remote over his shoulder and thumbing a button at random. The flat screen TV came to life as he threw himself onto the sofa with a muffled thump, and he turned a basilisk gaze toward the screen.

After an hour of mind-numbing morning television, Michael gave up on the diversion and powered up his laptop, glancing at the calendar widget that appeared on the screen. The weeks were starting to blur into one another, and he still had very little to show for it. He’d had enough of staring at screens. It was time to get outside and interact with people, and he knew just the person. Scrolling through his contact list, he gave a quiet grunt of satisfaction when he found the name. Decision made, he dialed the number and grinned when the familiar voice answered.

“Watson,” he began, and laughed at the war whoop of recognition. Plans were made and a few minutes later he hung up feeling satisfied. Other than the bakery, he hadn’t had contact with many people at all over the last few weeks, so getting out and seeing an old friend would be good for him. He got up from his seat and stretched again before strolling back into the bedroom to get changed. It felt nice to have a sense of purpose about the day.

Michael was near Washington Square Park, standing at the light, waiting to cross when movement on the other side of the street caught his eye. It was Kate. She stood alone in the crowd, her gaze turned inward, but that wasn’t what held his attention. For the first time that he could recall, she wasn’t smiling, and he didn’t think he had ever seen her look so lost. Her gaze drifted and for a moment she seemed to look straight at him. They stared at each other across the traffic for a moment, and then Michael lifted his hand and gave her a tentative wave. She gave no sign of recognition as her gaze moved on. Michael paused then lowered his hand. Something was wrong.

The light changed and people surged forward. Michael stuffed his hands in his pockets and crossed the street, keeping a watchful eye on Kate. She walked straight past him, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. She passed close enough for him to catch a waft of her scent, which was warm with a hint of vanilla musk, making him think of cake and sunshine. He reached the curb, and then turned around to catch another glimpse, his shoulder colliding with another pedestrian. He apologized, and then turned again to see where Kate was headed. He caught a glimpse of her hair, and then a bus turned the corner, obscuring his vision. By the time the traffic had cleared, she was gone.

~~~

Kate entered Washington Square Park and followed the path toward the dog run. Once there, she leaned against the fence with her face propped in her hands and watched dogs of all shapes and sizes gamboling and playing with each other. From time to time, dogs would wander over to where she stood at the fence for an inquiring sniff, and she would extend her hand, fingers curled into her palm for their inspection before rubbing them behind their ears. Eventually she followed the fence line down toward the gate and let herself in, exchanging smiles with some of the dog owners exercising their pets. Kate wandered around, squatting as some of the smaller dogs trotted over for a hello pat, which she happily obliged.

Kate laughed as a golden retriever snuffled at her ear then swiped his long wet tongue from her hair to her jaw. She gave the dog a quick hug, looking up as a shadow fell across her. She looked up to see an older woman regarding her with interest.

“You got a dog here?”

Kate looked up, squinting against the sunlight and trying to fend off the enthusiastic affections of the retriever. “No, I don’t. I just come here when I’m having an off kind of day,” she explained.

“Ah.” Comprehension dawned on the woman’s face. “And there’s no better cure than some unconditional canine love.”

“You got it.” Kate smiled back, and then grabbed the retriever affectionately and gave it a hug. The dog turned and before she could react, had swiped his long wet tongue against her face, making her flinch and laugh. Kate left the park half an hour later, her expression considerably lighter.

~~~

Michael stopped at a newsstand for a quick purchase, and then continued on his way to the bakery. He arrived in good time and made a point to stop to check out the chalkboard swinging from its brass hooks.

Live life one cupcake at a time.

He smiled and moved over to look at the window display. The bell jars held cupcakes that were sweet in their simplicity: vanilla frosting with rainbow sprinkles. One of the bell jars held a small framed photo. Michael leaned forward for a closer look. It was a younger looking Kate and a man that was obviously her father. They were leaning against a truck, the man’s arm hugging Kate to his chest as they both grinned at the camera. Beside the frame sat a solitary cupcake and a small hand-written sign. Jack’s Favorite
.
Now he knew why she had looked so sad. He went inside and sat at a table to wait.

“Psssst, Wren!” Emily hissed.

Wren bobbed up from the display cabinet that she had been restocking. “What?”

Emily jerked her head toward the front of the store. “Sir Galahad’s back.”

Wren followed Emily’s gaze and saw him sitting at a table near the front door. The morning sun shone through the front windows, highlighting his auburn curls. He half-sat half-sprawled in his chair, flicking through a copy of the
New York Times
with careless grace. He was, Wren had to admit, glorious.

“Let’s hope Kate gets back soon,” Wren whispered to Emily as the two women regarded him with what they hoped were covert glances, along with every other woman in the store. Wren shook her head in admiration; he truly had no inkling that he was the center of attention. She found that very attractive, as her extensive dating history had revealed that attractive men often tended to rely on their looks and fall quite short in other departments.

“Michael Forrester, you reclusive son of a bitch,” a voice drawled from the doorway.

Michael looked up, pushing his newspaper aside as he stood up with a broad smile to greet his friend. David had changed little over the years they had known each other, although his body had filled out into a muscular grace that showed his ongoing pursuit of fitness. He had come from work today and so was dressed in more business-like attire than Michael was used to seeing him in. His white blond hair was its customary scruff, however, and a tattoo could be seeing peeking out over his shirt collar.

“Watson, ’bout time you showed up,” he replied as the two men enfolded each other in an enthusiastic back-thumping embrace.

“Oh, no.” Emily pulled a disappointed face. “The good ones are always gay.”

“Uh-uh,” Wren replied, shaking her head. “He’s straight.”

“Are you sure?” Emily was skeptical.

“Sure, I’m sure. He watches Kate like a fat man watches fried food.” Wren smirked.

The two men sat down, grinning at each other.

“Dude, I can’t believe you called,” David said, shaking his head. “How long as it been?”

“Too long if you’re asking my mom,” Michael replied.

“I know, I know. My folks keep asking after you, as well.” David grunted. He cocked his head toward the counter. “I’m on the clock today, man, so how about we order something?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Michael agreed.

David sat up straighter in his chair and looked around the store, then regarded Michael with a quizzical expression. “So how did you find this place? This isn’t your usual hangout from what I recall.”

“Dave, I haven’t had a regular hangout for a while,” he said with a grimace. “Unless you count my desk chair.”

David looked sympathetic. “Yeah, I heard about that but wasn’t going to say anything.”

Michael raised an eyebrow at that. “My mom?” he asked and sighed at David’s nod. “Figures.”

“Well, they’re worried too,” David said in a mild tone.

“Yeah, I know.” Michael ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. “It’s just … well, you know how it is with deadlines.”

“Tell me about it,” David deadpanned. “I love that whooshing noise they make as they go by.”

“Right,” Michael scoffed. “Like you can miss deadlines working at a paper.”

“True.” David inclined his head in acknowledgment. “But the pressure is still the same, except I get it
every day
.”

“True,” agreed Michael.

“Although,” David continued, “I think it’s safe to say that you reap better dividends.”

Michael shrugged but didn’t reply.

“But enough of that. I need
food
,” David said. “I got to work early without breakfast this morning, so I could eat the crotch out of a low-flying duck right about now.”

Michael laughed as they walked toward the counter. “With a mouth like that, it’s a wonder you’re able to charm the ladies.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Wren from behind the counter as she gave David an assessing glance. “He’s doing okay so far.”

David gave the woman a quick grin then turned his attention to the display cabinet.

Wren was stunned. The guy was cute, she knew she was packing heat in her formfitting shirt, and when it came to the opposite sex, she had an exceptional batting average, yet he had apparently dismissed her with a glance. She took his order, and he accepted his change with an absent-minded thanks, and then walked back to his table. She was still watching his retreating back when she realized that the other man—Sir Galahad—had been speaking to her.