Chapter Sixteen
Ivy
The clock strikes three.
“Ivy, dear friend,” Sparrow greets me with a smile from behind the register.
She moves toward the high-top area of the counter and, leaning forward on her elbows, rests there with her hands casually looped together.
A green satin ribbon holds her hair back today, a nod to the Christmas season, no doubt.
Her eyes shine in a way that I believe only happens when one is in love.
My eyes catch on the simple wedding band on her left hand, the one she wears when she’s at the bakery so that she doesn’t get her diamond engagement ring ruined with croissant dough.
Though, she often declares that croissants hold a bit of magic for her and Rafe.
Seeing as how they’re both of French heritage within their family trees, I wouldn’t doubt it.
“Hi, Rory.” I grin back, using her nickname, grateful to be in her calming presence and let the smell of ground coffee and toasted sugar ease my soul for a bit.
The sight of my friend and the sound of jazz music in the form of current Christmas songs bring the first real, full smile to my face all day.
Today, Jace was at rehearsal again, assembling things—always assembling things.
He was getting organized to help the teenagers he’ll be working with later.
I’ve almost lost track of what I asked him to create due to how distracting he is. And my head is now pounding.
The thrill of being near him so often lately has gotten to be a bit much.
There’s something Jace is still not telling me, and I can’t even begin to imagine what it could be.
Maybe he has reservations because of his ex.
Maybe he has reservations about how he really feels about me.
Maybe he’s changed his mind about getting to know me, though he was the one who proposed the Christmas countdown.
He didn’t seem to have any regrets yesterday when we went sledding, finishing off the afternoon with the wind brushing against my face and his warm breath near my ear.
When we landed at the bottom of the hill, he pressed his cheek gently against my own and then helped me rise.
Later, when I slid into bed, I found a message from him on my phone.
We texted for a bit, but it was only about what time to meet for today’s assembly projects and our goal for the timeline.
And then, at rehearsal earlier, he was reserved.
I’m not sure what to make of it. I’ve explored relationships before where the man is emotionally unavailable, and this doesn’t feel like those.
His eyes betray his inner turmoil. There’s something holding him back from allowing himself to connect fully, and I just hope he has the strength to push through to the other side and give us a solid chance.
“Your special hot chocolate today?” Sparrow’s voice cuts through my thoughts as I approach the counter.
Her voice is a bit melodic, not nearly as raspy as mine, but I hear the emotion through it.
I’ve barely visited Sparrow and Lily the past couple of weeks.
My mind feels preoccupied, my heart too full to prioritize socializing.
And now, she’s worried about me. I’m worried about myself.
And when I settle myself on the stool across from her and look up, the line between her furrowed brow proves it.
Nodding slightly, I expect Sparrow to walk away and make it herself.
But one of her hands covers mine, and she politely asks Anna, one of the bakery assistants here, to make it instead, quietly giving instructions.
Sparrow’s eyes return to mine as she scans my face, clearly looking for any and every clue of what’s really going on in my life.
With the rush of the season upon us, the bakery will be open later than usual, and I took advantage of the opportunity to see my longtime friends this afternoon.
“I’m okay,” I mutter in response to her unspoken question.
She squints, and a myriad of emotions cross her face, a frown meeting eyes that hold both worry and amusement.
“Hmm,” she hums, pointing toward the door. “If I marched myself over to Marlee’s Books and asked Grey how she finds your present state, you’re telling me she would also say you’re doing okay?”
My head drops slightly. She’s got me, and she knows it.
While Sparrow, Lily, Grey, and I have always been close, circumstances have made it so that Grey is closest to me, just as Lily is closest to Sparrow.
The four of us will always love each other and be there for each other, but sometimes, life has a way of forcing a proximity of friendship that ingrains itself into your very being.
“She might?” I reply to her.
I wince as Anna saves me from more blatant questioning by presenting the most delectable-looking hot chocolate.
She picks up a sanitizing rag and moves onto the floor to begin clearing tables.
Sparrow’s and Lily’s use of real melted chocolate as the base, with no powder allowed, shows in the quality and taste.
The sparrow painted on the edge of the ceramic cup and plate feels like a warm, familiar hug.
I take my first sip as Sparrow gives me the proper moment of silence this treat has earned. Releasing a relieved sigh and allowing the warm chocolate to align my thoughts, I wrap my hands around the cup and look at my friend. “I don’t know why I wandered in here,” I admit.
“You can always wander in here.”
I nod, emotion starting to build behind my eyes.
“Oh, for the love of croissants!” A yell from the back of the kitchen causes both of us to jump, even though we know the cause of the disturbance.
“And there she is . . .” Sparrow mutters.
The door to the kitchen swings open, revealing Lily. She’s covered in chocolate up to her forearms, her baby bump rounding out the front of her apron. From the line of chocolate across it, I’d say she’s been leaning against the counter while tempering chocolate again.
“Problem?” Sparrow grins. She doesn’t leave my side, amusement etched across her face.
“This little cruffin,” she starts, pointing to her stomach in case we aren’t aware that she is referring to her unborn child (we are), as a drop of chocolate drips to the floor, “he or she—because we all know Graham is so old-fashioned that he wants to be surprised, and Lord knows I love him too much to fight him on it—will not stop kicking when I make chocolate cake!” Her eyes are a bit wild, her blonde ponytail extra high on her head today.
I cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing.
It’s still hard for me to process that Lily is five months pregnant with her and Graham’s first child.
It still feels like we should be planning our next group sleepover and avoiding gym class.
As feisty as she can be, Lily being the first one of us to get pregnant suits her.
And as much as she’s vocal about everything relating to this new development in her life, she’s the biggest softie.
Her eyes hold a sheen every time Graham puts his hand on her stomach or talks about their baby.
“Lils, since a great part of your love story has revolved around chocolate cake, I would think that your baby’s reaction makes perfect sense,” Sparrow says reasonably.
Lily huffs, wiping her arm across her forehead.
It leaves a streak of chocolate. I open my mouth to say something when I catch the slight shake of Sparrow’s head.
Our friend makes her way around the counter and sits beside me, after making a great effort to get onto the stool.
When most of her weight is supported, she grins at me like she’s proud of herself.
“Okay, Ives, give me the scoop,” Lily says. “I need news. Fill my head with some sort of intel that isn’t about the terrifying process of giving birth or the fear that my child may hate chocolate.”
I laugh. “Impossible.”
Lily shrugs, Sparrow giggles, and I’m faced with the power of these two friends giving me all their attention.
“It’s about . . . Jace.”
Sparrow clasps her hands together with excitement, leaning her chin on them with a smile. Lily squeals.
“Yes, girl! That man is so fine he could melt sugar without a flame. A proper crème br?lée, I’m sure of it.” Lily stares dreamily at the ceiling before turning back to me.
I chuckle. “That makes no sense.”
“Look, he’s in no way for me. I’m a happily married woman who goes home to a generous lawyer who is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life, but I can still call it like it is.
Jace could lift you with one arm. He could probably—and most lovingly—toss you across the room without breaking a sweat. ”
“Lily!” Sparrow scoffs.
“I’m talking about dance things, dance-related things,” Lily defends, shooting me a wink.
My embarrassment is swallowed up in amusement. “He is quite tall, isn’t he?” I say it just to provoke Lily further.
“Girl, Gladys was in here with your gram the other day, and she had herself a party with the number of photos she’s gotten of him around town!
She claims she’s trying to calculate if he’s too tall for her annual calendar of the men of Birch Borough.
She said she needed to make sure she could fit a lot of him on the page.
She also asked if he liked puppies. Is he allergic to anything that you know of? ”
Sparrow’s mouth hangs open while I snort and cover my mouth. We’re all laughing when the door opens. Rafe and Graham walk in together.
“Speaking of handsome men,” Sparrow nearly sings as Rafe ignores us to hop and slide over the counter, wrapping Sparrow up in his arms. They hold each other like they haven’t seen each other in years and didn’t just eat lunch together a few hours ago.
I know they saw each other today because Rafe was holding a pizza box when he walked by my studio earlier, and, as expected, he was moving in the direction of Sparrow’s Beret.