Chapter 13 #2
“Cakes, icing, spatula. I make my own swirl design, like this.” Grabbing her things, she takes a small dollop of icing and swirls it on the small cake.
I frown, the flick of her wrist seemingly a quirk, giving her an extra little lift to the icing, making it look sophisticated and surprisingly decorative for such a simple thing.
“Here. You try.” She pushes over a cupcake and the bowl, and I give it a try.
I make a mess of the first one, and the second. Dainty is something I’m not.
“Why don't you try this way?” She swaps the spatula and gives me a slightly smaller one, and it has the desired effect. I swirl on the icing like she does and turn my wrist at the right second and get the little lift.
“Got it.” I’m surprisingly proud of myself. Clearly all those years of working with plaster and render is transferrable. I do a few more, happy that I’ve got the hang of it.
Her grin brightens her whole face. “Brilliant, only about a hundred to go.”
“A hundred?” My eyebrows rise.
“Yeah, I’m doing extra-large batches. This batch here, I’ll freeze, so when the baby comes, I don’t have to bake so much.”
I nod as we work side by side, glad she’s thought about it.
“Making anything else? There might be a few days when you can’t bake,” I push, wondering if she has a contingency plan.
“Yeah, pies and buns are all things I’ll make extra of as the days go on. I got a large freezer from Bob at the hardware store so that’s come in handy. But I’m staying hopeful that my little one will let me get some baking time in at least the week after I give birth, whenever that is.”
“Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?” I ask, intrigued.
“No. I thought I would keep that as a surprise. A reward for all the hard work, you know.” She smiles with a shrug.
The soft way she says it has me wanting to pull her into my arms. “I think that’ll be quite the reward.”
When I glance at her, she’s already looking at me, something in her expression I can’t quite place.
“How is Sundown Valley going?” I haven’t had this before. Working and talking with someone you’re getting to know. Them wanting to learn about me, and me wanting to learn about them.
I blow out a breath. “It’s a big project.
It's going to take months. A few new cottages on their estate, a larger winery to accommodate growing tourist numbers and tastings. They’re a big family, with lots of money, and are growing rapidly.
They have their eyes on global expansion.
Just like Tanner here in Whispers, but bigger.
They have lots of ideas, and a few of them are butting heads over it. There’s always something going on.”
She giggles, the sound shooting through my chest.
“Sounds like a sitcom.”
“It feels like it sometimes. But the Stonemore family makes really fucking great wine.”
“What do you prefer, wine or whiskey?”
“Whiskey. But I do love a deep red too and Stonemore makes a brilliant one,” I tell her easily. The older I get, the more I appreciate the finer things of life, even though I grew up with none of them.
“As a kid, I remember sneaking into the church’s supply room and stealing a sip of the communion wine,” she admits as she ices three cupcakes to my one. I pause, looking at her, and her face is riddled with guilt and a small hint of mischievousness.
“Really?” I imagine her being a Goody Two-shoes, always on her best behavior.
Her face drops a little. “My sister dared me.”
“And let me guess, you’re not one to back down from a dare?”
“No. I also always wanted her approval. So I did anything she wanted me to. I got caught, though…”
“What happened?”
“I got five lashes and locked in the cupboard for three days.”
I feel the life leave my body. “What?” I nearly bark.
“I was a small kid; I fit fine.” She shrugs, like being abused was no big deal.
My eyes narrow. “Did that kind of thing happen a lot?”
“It always seemed to happen to me.” She blows out a breath.
“Your parents?”
“Yeah, and Pastor Greg. The wine wasn’t even real. It was grape juice. So disappointing. My sister laughed, though.”
“What was her discipline?” I ask, wondering what she got for orchestrating it all.
“Her discipline?” Savannah stops icing and looks at me, confused.
“Yeah, what were the ramifications for her for putting you up to the task?”
She pauses, thinking about it a small frown coming to her brow.
“She lied. Told them she caught me and was trying to stop me. They saw that as her setting a good example and she got elevated to the leader of Girl’s Fellowship Group.
” Like the facts are just resonating with her, she blinks a few times.
I don’t push, I don’t bite, but my anger swirls. I know what it’s like to grow up with people who didn’t have your best interests at heart. Looks like Savannah had the same experience. She rubs her belly, and a small wince comes to her face.
“Alright, let's go.” I drop the things on the counter and grab her arms gently and start to move her away from the counter.
“Griff? What, no, I need to finish.” She immediately resists, but I’m not having it.
“Savannah. You and the baby need to rest; otherwise, there will be no opening tomorrow. Remember what Hudson said.” She’s quiet then, and I feel her body soften in my hold as I walk her up the stairs.
“Okay, fine…” she relents. This is now the second time I’ve walked her to bed. And I swear this time, she’s almost asleep before I even get her there. Clearly, she overdid it these past few days while I was away.
I spot a bassinet over to the side that wasn’t here last time, along with a pile of children’s clothes. Not many items. But a few.
“I’ll lock up,” I tell her quietly as I lay her on her bed, ensuring she’s comfortable.
“Griffin…” she whispers.
I pull the blanket over her, taking in her pretty face. “Yeah, Savannah?”
Her eyes are closed, barely awake. “Don’t sleep on the floor tonight. It’s too hard… You can come up here…”
That offer makes my heart stutter. I stand here, looking down on her, her body already softening into the mattress, her breathing evening out.
“Sleep tight, sweetness,” I whisper as I turn and walk down the stairs, making myself useful by finishing the cupcakes, all one hundred of them, before cleaning the kitchen, needing to move, to push out my anxiety, my frustrations, my fears.
I remain focused, keep my head down, and put her things away and lock the back door.
I then move to the front and wipe down the counter, filling the napkin holders and mopping the floors, even though they look sparkling already.
I wipe the windows, then double-check the signage, doing anything and everything I can think of to get the front retail space ready for customers tomorrow.
I shoot Tanner a text so he isn’t worried, and before I know it, it’s dark.
I stand in her kitchen and look at the base of her stairs. The ones that lead to her.
She’s right. I’m not going home. I won't leave her. And I can’t sleep on the hard floor another night. Before I think too much about it, I flick off the light and take the stairs one at a time.