ONE TARAN #3
I’d never been particularly close to Lisa, and over the years since Royce passed, I rarely ever saw her.
Her family was wealthy, originally from California, but they had a vacation home here in Aspen Ridge where they spent every summer and Christmas.
Royce, Wynter, and I used to see her during those breaks, and later, her parents had gifted her and Wynter the place as a wedding present.
But Lisa and I never really hit it off; she was this affluent, pampered only child whose world seemed far removed from mine.
Her air of entitlement always felt like a barrier I couldn’t breach.
In many ways, she was my polar opposite. One of four children, I started part-time work at fifteen. In college, I worked throughout to support myself. There’d never been a time in my life when I didn’t have to earn money.
Mentally brushing away my wayward thoughts, I poured the last batch of cupcake batter into the molds and popped them in the oven. “I bet she’ll be happy to see you. And now that you’re back, you can have a normal life.”
One that I didn’t get enough of a chance to live.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Would you like some coffee? A cupcake?” I offered.
“No, thanks. I just wanted to see you.” He appeared at a loss for words.
I could tell from his expression that he was also sensing the awkwardness of the moment.
Still, he made no move to go. “Are you working?” he asked, then shook his head. “Sorry. Silly question—I meant, where are you working?”
“Still at Mabel’s. And since—” I cleared my throat before continuing.
“And on weekends, I go over to the hospital to work in the cafeteria.” I didn’t need to say it out loud for Wynter to understand that since Royce passed, I had picked up a second job.
The look in his eyes was enough to convey his sympathy.
I didn’t want it. Sure, I had to work harder, but not so much more than many single fathers I knew who spent most of their time putting food on the table. “The money is good.”
Well, not that good, but enough to meet my son’s and my basic needs with a little to save up.
“And the cupcakes?”
“Just a side order,” I said in a breezy voice.
It was for a purpose, however. I wanted to save enough money to buy a new gaming system for Rory.
He’d had his eye on it for a long time, but I simply didn’t have enough cash to buy it…
Now I would. With this and a couple of other pre-Christmas orders, I would make it work.
My son wasn’t going to be deprived of things just because he didn’t have his Papa around anymore.
I was willing and able to fill both roles.
“That’s great.” Wynter stood, his gaze landing on my son. “I—well, I’m heading out now.”
Rory shifted uneasily, his eyes darting between Wynter and the nearly empty bowl of batter.
I’d asked him to finish up the cleaning, but it was really a tactic to keep him occupied and less focused on Wynter’s unexpected visit.
Rory had always had a soft spot for the sweet, gooey leftovers, and it was a simple way to distract him.
“Dad wants to open his own bakery,” he blurted out, the first thing he’d said since I asked him to finish the cupcakes.
Wynter raised an eyebrow, as if he sensed the underlying tension in Rory’s voice. “Yeah? That’s great.”
“I’m working on it.” I picked up the plate I’d prepared and held it out to Wynter. “Here, take this with you. And give my love to Lisa. It’s been a long time.”
“Agreed. Now that I’m back, maybe we can hang out again?” Wynter’s gaze lingered on me, as if searching for something unspoken.
I saw the scowl on Rory’s face. Not happening with my son around.
He wouldn’t like it. “Sure,” I said easily.
As if Lisa would let her husband spend time with a widower and his son.
I moved in different circles, but I could tell that Wynter needed to hear it.
Was it because he still wasn’t over Royce’s death?
I felt a twinge of concern for him. I wanted to reach out, to offer him the support he might need, but the truth was, I was still grappling with my own grief.
I didn’t have the energy to help him through this—at least, not yet.
When Wynter reached out to take the plate, his fingers brushed mine. The touch was brief but electrifying, sending a surprising jolt through me. I pulled my hand away quickly, trying to steady myself as a wave of unexpected tension washed over me.
Wynter’s eyes met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of something… but the look was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Thank you.” I sensed he wanted to say more, but the words probably eluded him.
“Goodbye, Wyn,” I replied, the finality in my tone clear.
He nodded, and I led him to the door, Rory trailing behind.
Once Wynter was gone, I turned back to the cupcakes, but my mind was elsewhere.
Wynter’s presence had stirred something in me, but the reality was clear: I had a son to care for and a past to work towards.
Wynter and I were bound by memories, and that’s all it was—nothing more.
Still, as I stood there, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, something that might change the course of our lives.