Chapter 6 Henry
It was such an incredible moment, I didn’t even know if it had happened for real.
I suppose I wasn’t completely sure if anything was real after kissing him.
After reading the first story at his tea party, we ate a little more, and then he showed me how the bed unfolded from the wall, and to my surprise there were more teddies on the bed.
They’d been squished together, which elicited a giggle from Leo and a comment about how they probably deserved it for stabbing him in the back in the middle of the night with their button eyes and plastic noses.
I read him a couple more stories in bed after that, and he fell asleep. It was the sweetest moment I’d experienced in my life, and I’d experienced a lot of sweet moments. They came with the job of baking desserts. But his sweetness was pure, and it wasn’t going to rot my teeth.
After about twenty minutes of him sleeping and snoring, I had to leave.
I didn’t wake him. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and tucked him into bed.
It was an early night for him, although I doubt he’d sleep all the night through.
And before leaving, I made sure to put the uneaten pie in the fridge and leave him a note on the magnetic whiteboard pinned to the fridge.
I wrote, “I had fun little one. Daddy,” alongside a couple of hearts in the red and blue whiteboard markers attached to the sides of the board.
Leaving the apartment, I made sure to close the door quietly and walk on my tiptoes all the way down to the main door, just in case he heard me. I was known to have a heavy foot from time to time.
Pineberry Falls had a magic about it that couldn’t easily be explained to anyone who asked why I’d picked this place.
If I wanted to open a bakery, I should’ve done it in the city, or some other nonsense, people would say.
These people being folks who’d tasted the occasional dessert I’d bring into work.
Pineberry Falls was something else, though, the summer air even in the evening had a cool sweetness to it. It had my mouth watering a little.
The bakery was my opportunity to do something for myself, the only deadlines and performance reviews I’d ever need to do here would be through dessert tastings and oven timers.
I smirked at the thought of this being my life now.
It made the walk back a lot more entertaining, especially thinking about all the things I could’ve said to the people who doubted me.
This was going to work out, and I knew that for a fact.
The fact being, I’d found Leo, and he seemed to be somewhat of a lucky charm around town.
Life here would still be an adjustment, and I hadn’t quite planned on falling for someone the way I had for Leo. But if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was to pivot, and maybe having this thing was Leo would be just what I needed to keep from hyperfixating on the bakery.
I didn’t get to sleep until midnight that night. The bakery opened in a week, and while I’d been optimistic that Leo would keep me from focusing too hard on it, he was doing the opposite right now as I went around with a brush and paint, touching up areas that hadn’t received a proper second coat.
He called the next morning—almost eight on the dot when his call came through and his sweet sleepy voice spoke with a croak. Perhaps is was the first thing he’d said. “Good morning.”
Already in the bakery kitchen, I had him on speaker. “Hey, little one, how are you doing?” I was beating cake batter in a bowl. I’d gotten a handle on pie tasting and now I needed to see what this town thought about cakes.
He yawned. “I’m good. Just a little . . . tired.”
“I wish I could’ve stayed all night. Your bed is comfy.”
“I’ve got like three foam mattress toppers,” he giggled.
“I think you really might be the princess in that story, then,” I told him.
“You want to get lunch today? And by lunch, I mean, do you want to come here and I can make you something.” I’d thought long and hard about what I wanted to do for him, and one of those things was making sure he got his veggies.
“I’ll have to check my schedule,” he said, his voice pitching with excitement. I knew even with whatever schedule he had, he was going to make room for me. “But it should be fine.”
“Good, good, that’s what I thought,” I said. “So, I’ll see you around lunch.”
“Call it one p.m. and I’ll be there.”
That gave me plenty of time, although I knew what I was making for him already, and I didn’t quite need the entire morning to make it.
I wasn’t going to be doing anything by half measures when it came to him.
I had to show Leo that I was committed to the ethos of being a Daddy, and that ethos meant making sure my little got his five fruits and veggies a day, a healthy meal, and a sweet treat because he deserved it.
After the cake batter was poured into small cake pans, I put them in the rack-stand oven.
They were small and not very densely packed, so they all managed to fit snugly on the same shelf.
I had plans for each of them—some would be typical sponge with a strawberry jam filling, and others would make use of the fruits I could find from the local market.
The chocolate one would have to wait for me to get a little more practice in; I seemed to always burn those.
My baking repertoire wasn’t the most expansive, and that was because I wasn’t a classically trained baker, or however they phrased it on the baking shows.
I was what they’d consider an “at home” baker, and now a bakery owner.
I’d taken a class here and there on the weekends, especially for decorating cakes, and my first few attempts had been rough, like piping bags exploding and a disaster of overpowering flavors.
It’s how I learned that less is more when it came to those essence droppers.
With the timer going off, I took the cakes out and let them rest. It gave me the opportunity to head to the market and the small local shops down the main street for the ingredients I’d need for lunch.
Pineberry Falls. It was magical even to say it, like casting a spell which only made me chuckle to think about.
It was rubbing off on me in the best way.
Everyone was helpful, directing me to the ripest tomatoes and the best carrots.
I grabbed a lot of things I should’ve already had as well, like vegetable stock, onions, garlic, and even a couple of tiny herb plants in pots.
But the last and main ingredient I needed was a good cheese.
Leo: Oliver just saw you coming out of the store with a bunch of stuff. Now, I’m curious what you’re making. I’d only managed to look at his message once I was back at the bakery.
Me: You’ll have to wait and find out. I sent back.
Me: Also, didn’t realize you had people watching me. I added with a winky face emoji.
He sent me back a bunch of emojis I could only interpret as him trying to be shy—a monkey covering its eyes, a half smile with tears in its eyes, and one with a drip of sweat in the corner.
It was adorable. I just told him I’d see him later, and to bring his appetite.
I was going to expect a very empty bowl once he was done.
I was making tomato soup and making full use of all the features of the kitchen to make the best soup I’d ever created. I put my all into it, like I did everything I made. This one was extra special, though, because I’d made it just for him, and me as well.
Giving the immersion blender some use, I blitzed everything into a smooth liquid. Not a single veggie could be seen within it, and it tasted divine. Thankfully, there was enough for me to store some away, assuming Leo didn’t try drink it right out of the pan. It was just that good.
Tomato soup alone wasn’t going to fill either of us up, which was where the grilled cheese sandwiches came in—and those would be made much later, freshly, right before his eyes.
And since the soup was done and the cakes had cooled to a perfect temperature to stuff and decorate, I had just enough on my plate to stay occupied until Leo got here.
He arrived with a gentle knock on the glass door pane. I might’ve mistaken it for that of a mouse knocking if it hadn’t been for the shadow he cast on the newspapers still covering the glass.
“I’m starving,” he said, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me with a big hug. “I did take the leftover pie with me to the community center, and I had a small nibble, but not enough to ruin my appetite.”
I squeezed him back. A light pop and crack from his back sounded out and he sighed, looking up at me and smiling. “I like this little patch of color you have in your hair,” I said.
“I’m trying to decide which color I want to go next,” he said, pushing his head forward and shaking his hair under my chin almost. “I have a lot of colors. Didn’t you see them all in the bathroom?”
My trip to the bathroom had been brief, and I hadn’t been there to snoop . . . although I had seen a lot of products covering the sink counter. I didn’t know what they were all for, but something told me they were the reason he smelled so good. I kissed his forehead. “I will do next time.”
He giggled. “Next time. I’m going to keep you to that promise, Daddy.”
“And next time might be a planned sleepover, so I don’t have to walk back here alone,” I said. I held his hand and led him through to the kitchen. “You sleep through the entire night, little one?”
“Surprisingly, yeah. Oh, wait, what have you made for lunch?”
“How long do you have for lunch is my next question?”
He shrugged. “It’s pretty flexible. How long do you want me for?”
I knew he was asking about lunch, but I was already willing to answer this question about time.
And yet, my mouth wouldn’t let me speak.
It was tongue-tied for the first time since I was fresh out of college giving my first commercial marketing pitch to a board of old men.
Leo’s sweet face begged for an answer, and he blinked those big eyes at me.
“I don’t want there to be a time limit on how long I want to spend with you,” I finally got out.
“I’ll have to ask my boss at the library, but I’m sure they won’t mind,” he said, breaking eye contact and looking around. “It smells like—” His brow furrowed. “I can’t really tell. It’s like cake and—well, a bit like garlic. I don’t know. I’m conflicted. Is it garlic cake?”
I laughed. “Good guess, but I’m gonna have to put a firm no on that one. It’s something I’m hoping you’ll enjoy, if not love with your entire being.”
“Phew, no pressure, then.”
“Homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese,” I said. It was going to be a real mess if he hated that, but I figured it was a staple food choice of littles, and the sick, who often regressed to a state of age where they needed the food equivalent of a hug.
He gasped, and for a moment I really thought he was the outlier.
“That sounds amazing. You made the soup? Why didn’t you buy it from the Stock Market?
” he asked, referring to the small soup store on the main road, right beside one of the bread bakeries, the one who I was a little nervous about meeting in case they thought I was trying to take over the town’s baking needs.
I suppose not buying my soup from them wasn’t helping my cause.
“I told you yesterday that I made a good soup, so I wanted to show you that I could,” I told him. “Plus, how else can I show you I’m a good caretaker if I can’t do something as simple as crack out my immersion blender and hide a whole bunch of veggies for you to eat.”
His eyes narrowed as he stared at me. “As long as they’re not going to be right there and chunky, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“I know you’ll be fine, because the soup is amazing.” I’d made sure to taste it a lot. Not enough to spoil my appetite, but enough to know a little cracked black pepper on top was going to make it extra special once I warmed it through to serve.
Leo sat at the counter. “Are we eating here or—”
“Upstairs might be nicer, but I will be making the grilled cheeses down here. You want to go sit upstairs, give you a chance to snoop?”
He bit down on his bottom lip in a giggle. “You read my mind.”
It was a hint. I figured he’d wanted me to snoop, so he could snoop in return. In his defense, I’d stopped myself from snooping because it would have feel icky to do that while he’d slept. “And how much cheese do you want on your grilled cheese?”
“Lots! I want it leaking out the sides.”
“Leaking. I’ll make a note of that,” I said. “You remember the way upstairs, right?”
He nodded. “I promise to not to snoop too hard, unless you’ve got something to hide?”
“Snoop as hard as you want. The only thing I’ve got to hide are some of my grandma’s recipes, and that’s because they’re secret.”
“Got it. Don’t look for recipes,” he said, rushing away and giggling to himself.
I stared at the doorway for a moment after he’d left. It was almost like he’d left a trail of glitter behind him that my eyes couldn’t lose focus from. I wanted to tell him that, but without it sounding like I was just staring. Even if that’s what I was doing.