Chapter 25 Marzipan
Marzipan
“See?” Lainey faced the cabinet above the coffee maker, closing the door with the gentlest touch. “Look how I didn’t shake all the glassware or test the integrity of the hinges. We don’t need to express our emotions by slamming cabinet doors like we’re eleven.”
It was the Saturday after Labor Day, and she and Elliot were back in Forest’s Bridge. Busy season was officially over, and there was nothing left to do but survey the damage and wait until next year.
Elliot circled his arms around her waist from behind.
Her body melted into his touch with the press of his arms and the weight of his chin on the top of her head.
She was so small and safe with him. “I hear you, Davis,” he murmured into her hair.
“Should we film a cabinet usage tutorial and add it to the listing?”
“I know you’re joking, but I’m starting to think shaming the customers is the only viable solution.” She twisted in his arms until she was facing him. “Next year, if any renters act like this, we take away their towels.” She tapped his chest for emphasis.
He shut his eyes patiently, the way he did whenever she got heated like this. “Don’t worry about the towels.”
“Someone has to. These people keep taking them,” she argued, inspecting the remaining cabinet doors for signs of damage. “We don’t have unlimited towel money. This isn’t a DoubleTree.”
He followed her to the opposite counter and sidled up behind her again, pressing her into the cabinets. “I’m kind of into this side of you. I never took you for a ruthless capitalist.”
“I work within whatever system I’m in.” She turned to face him and then hopped up on the counter, tugging him close by the shirt collar. “Now, are you going to have this kind of excessively randy energy at Bree’s sip and see?”
He gagged a little. “I hate the word randy. And why do you keep calling it a ‘sip and see’? It’s sounding more and more like an Eyes Wide Shut party by the second.”
“Because she keeps calling it that!” As much as Lainey loved Friend Bree, she was deeply discomfited by Hostess Bree, who insisted on calligraphy place cards for a group of ten people who all knew each other, and who had assigned a dress code she referred to as “floral festive.”
“We need a code word for when it’s time to escape, like marzipan or grapefruit.”
He nudged her off the counter by her hand and tugged her in the direction of the door. “She’s your best friend. It won’t be that bad. Where’s your bag?” he asked, spinning his head around the room, his hand on the doorknob.
“You don’t understand. You’re not prepared.”
“There it is.” He snatched her canvas bag off the ground by the handles, ignoring her. “You look beautiful, by the way.” He handed her the bag and planted a kiss on her forehead before shoving her out the door, Waffle trailing behind.
Bree’s house was a newer build in the style of mid-century modern perfection. Where Lainey and Elliot’s house had sandstone and pine, Bree’s had rich cedar and warm red brick. From her Smeg fridge to the smart bulbs in her Sputnik chandelier, every old thing was secretly brand new.
“You’re here!” Bree whisper-shouted. “Everyone’s out back. We can’t talk inside. Elodie just fell asleep.”
“We were led to believe we’d be smooshing my niece’s face tonight,” Lainey countered.
Bree sighed. “Eventually, but if we miss this sleep window, it’s going to throw off the whole schedule.”
“Are you sure you’re okay we brought the dog?” Elliot asked for what was probably the fifth time.
She dismissed his concerns with the wave of her hand. “Of course. Waffle’s perfect. I want to clone him so Elodie can have a Waffle of her own. Is that a weird thing to say? I don’t really sleep anymore. Is that a gift?” She gestured to the bag behind Elliot’s back.
“It’s just a WubbaNub. My nephew loved his when he was Elodie’s age.
” He straightened his glasses on his nose, squirming as his lovely gesture quite literally moved Bree to tears.
Though, these days, most happy things moved her friend to tears on account of the aforementioned sleep deprivation.
Pride bubbled between Lainey’s ribs. She felt so lucky to be standing beside this man. Her husband.
Bree pressed her finger into the corners of her eyes to preserve her makeup. “You are the nicest person. Just—Lainey, did you see this?” She held up the Pottery Barn Kids bag an inch from Lainey’s nose.
“Yes. I was standing right here.” Lainey batted away the bag. “My gift for Elodie is more experiential. The second you think she’s old enough to hot-wire a car, let me know and I’ll teach her.”
Bree’s eyebrows blended into her hairline. “You’re not funny. Don’t make that joke near my mother.”
“I won’t if you admit that I’m very funny.”
Bree refused her a response and pointed to the back door that led to the rest of the party.
Elliot lowered his voice for Lainey, and Lainey alone. “Do you actually know how to hot-wire a car?”
“No.” She pulled a face as her arm stretched to open the back door. “But seriously, how hard could it be?”
“You have enviable self-confidence.”
She lifted her chin. “Thank you. And don’t think for a second that I didn’t immediately clock that you used the remaining balance on your PB gift card to buy that gift.”
“I know my wife. I was surprised when you didn’t out me mid-handoff.”
My wife. It felt the same every time he said it, like something in her chest was clicking perfectly into place. He gave her a look that told her something in him stirred when he said it, too.
He brought his mouth down to her ear and whispered, “Marzipan.”
Snaking his hand around her waist, he led her through the smattering of partygoers in their best florals and a beaming Colin holding court next to buckets and buckets of wine. A giggle bubbled through her chest as Elliot walked her around the side of the house and out of sight.
His mouth was on hers in seconds. His fingers bit into her waist.
“You’re my wife.” He whispered it into her ear like he couldn’t believe it.
His lips on her throat vibrated with her laugh. “I have been for a while.”
He pulled away to look at her when he said, “But now it’s different.”
It is, she thought as she caught her breath. She inhaled the surrounding scents of pine and barbecue and Elliot through her nose. Now we’re permanent, she thought.
“How much did you have to end up paying for the pacifier? A dollar?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I have four cents left on the card.”
“Color me impressed, Hodges. Roll that into the fund for next year’s renovations.”
Elliot adjusted his collar. “About that…I don’t think we should put any more money into the Shore Thing. I want to sell it. Forest’s Bridge, too.”
She blinked. “What? Why? This is your path to passive income. What about your innkeeper dreams?”
“I hate being an innkeeper,” he admitted.
“Tripadvisor is a horrible place for horrible people to commiserate about the noise level of cicadas. I can’t control the circle of life, Patricia from Seattle.
My dream sucks, and now that I’ve tried it for one season, I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to do your dream now.”
“Seriously?” It was so much to take in. “Which dream? The health-care one? Now that I’ve locked you down, I’m kind of good.”
“No.” He laughed. “The one where you see the world. Where you go on adventures and discover what more could be out there for you.”
“For us,” she corrected through a watery smile.
“Us,” he agreed. He reached up to her face and swiped his thumb gently along her jaw. “I think my new dream is to be with you when you see the world.”
They kissed again, not ready to let go yet, because for the first time in a long time, the world seemed so full of possibilities.