Chapter 44
chapter
forty-four
MAREN
It’s one hour until showtime, and we can’t find her.
“She’s not with you?” Nate asks into the phone, his voice frantic as he paces in the middle of my messy kitchen.
Teagan’s and my entries for the bake-off decorate the counters, ready to be shown off, but we’re short a baker.
I jerk my apron off and march past him to check the backyard again, but there’s still no sign of Teagan out here. My stomach twists into knots as I sling the door shut.
Just twenty minutes ago, we were all smiles and laughs, with our stomachs full of sweets.
Until Teagan said she needed to use the bathroom. When I tried to check on her, she wasn’t there. She completely disappeared.
“She’s not with my parents next door.” Nate tosses the phone onto the counter and blows out a breath.
I thrust my hands into my hair, racking my brain for any other place the little girl might be. “Do you think she would have walked to the square for the contest? She walked home from school before.”
“She promised she wouldn’t do that again…” He shakes his head and swipes his phone from the counter, launching a cloud of stray flour into the air. “I’ll call Owen. He’s already downtown. Maybe he can keep an eye out for her.”
As he dips his head, I hear something.
I grab his forearm and stop him. “Wait.” I tilt my head to listen for more, but I come up empty. I hold a finger up. “Don’t call him yet. Let me check one more place first.”
Nate’s eyes lock onto mine, and he nods, silently placing complete faith in me.
With a deep breath, I tiptoe in the direction I believe the sound came from—my room. I already checked in here once, but it won’t hurt to take a second look.
That’s when I hear it.
As soon as I enter my room, I hear a tick, followed by a clink, coming from the closet.
“Teagan?” I nudge the closet door open and release an exhale. “There you are.”
Teagan sits on the floor of my closet, her legs crossed in front of her. The bow that was tied neatly around her ponytail now hangs off the side, lopsided and barely hanging on.
And in her hands is… a crown.
She raises it onto her head, then wrestles it off. The teeth get caught in her hair, and she grunts and mumbles under her breath.
“Here. Let me help.” I sink onto my knees and untangle the crown from her hair.
“Thanks.” Her voice doesn’t hold its usual enthusiasm, and my heart sinks.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you. It’s almost time for the bake-off.”
She doesn’t raise her head, nor does she give any indication that she heard me.
“I need to let your father know that you’re okay. He’s been worried and—”
“Can you sit with me?”
“Of course.” I place my hand over hers and squeeze. “Let me just tell your father that you’re here. Okay? I’ll only be a second.”
I exit my closet and find Nate peering into my room from the hall. I give him a thumbs-up, and his relief is palpable. “We’ll be right out,” I whisper to him, then turn back toward my closet.
Teagan’s on her feet with another crown in her hands. She’s raided my chest of past memories, unearthing the pageant tiaras from my teenage years.
While pageants themselves weren’t exactly my thing, I kept entering them because it made my mom happy for whatever reason. That, and Caroline and I entered them together. She usually won, but I had my fair share of victories too.
No matter what, we always had fun together. Addie often showed up too, for support, with our favorite snacks in tow—a Snickers for Caroline and a pack of Twizzlers for me.
I smile as Teagan places the last tiara I ever won onto her head. Instead of trying to free herself of this one, she leaves it in its lopsided place and exits the closet. She twirls in front of the mirror like she’s just a little girl having fun, but the frown she wears tells a different story.
She stops spinning and peers at me in the mirror. “I don’t want to go today.”
“Why is that?” I come to stand behind her and adjust the tiara before it falls.
“I’m too… scared.” She sighs. “Lots of the kids in my class said they’ll be there.
And what if my cookies are bad? Did I use too much Cinnamon Toast Crunch on top?
I thought they would be fun, but were they a bad idea?
” Her shoulders slump, and all I want to do is wrap my arms around her to keep her safe from any bad feelings.
It hurts to see her this way.
“Can I tell you something?” I ask. “I’m scared too.”
“Really?” Teagan faces me, her expression shifting from one of fear to surprise. “You don’t act like it.”
“That’s because I’m wearing lipstick.”
This earns me a giggle, and the knots in my stomach start to unravel.
“My mama used to tell me that beauty comes from within—but lipstick helps too. I’d say the same for confidence.” I wink, open the drawer of my nightstand behind me, and whip out a tube of pale pink lipstick.
“I’ve never worn lipstick before. Mommy and Daddy say I have to wait until I’m older.”
“Oh.” I hide the tube. “Um, they’re right. I should’ve thought of that.” I say the last part mostly to myself. “How about some clear lip gloss? Same effect.”
She nods, and thankfully, her frown eases into a wide, cheery grin.
Once I’m finished applying a light coat of gloss to her lips, I turn her back around to face the mirror and smile. “What do you think?”
“I love it. Tastes like strawberries.”
“It’s one of my many secret weapons,” I whisper and playfully bring my finger to my mouth in a shushing gesture. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“I promise.”
She sways, tilting her head from side to side, and her smile never fades.
After a beat, I venture, “Feel better?”
“A little.”
I sink onto my knees next to her. “You have nothing to worry about, sweet girl. You made some delicious cookies, and your classmates can’t wait to try them. That’s why they’re coming out today—they want to support you.”
“Mommy came all the way here.” She twists her shiny lips. “I don’t want to disappoint anyone, but Daddy says there’s no way I can. I know he’s right, but…”
“He is right. It takes big guts to do what you’re doing, and your mommy and daddy are so proud of you. We all are. We’re all ready for you to show this bake-off exactly what you’re made of.” I end my impromptu speech with a high five.
She smacks her lips together.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Ready.”
I cup my hand around my ear. “I can’t hear you. I said—are you ready?”
“Ready!” Teagan says around a giggle, and the tiara teeters on her head. She reaches up and is able to free this one herself. “Here you go.”
“Keep it.”
“Like a prize?”
“Yeah.”
“But I didn’t win.”
“You’re a winner in my book, just for putting yourself out there like this.” I gently knock my forehead to hers, and another fit of laughter erupts.
My work here is done.
I rise onto my feet and adjust the bow in her hair. Then she slips her hand into mine. As I start for the door, I find Nate still standing where I left him, his eyes glimmering in the dim light of the hall like he’s holding back tears.
The line of his pressed lips shifts on its axis into something like awe.
Nate watches me like I hung the moon and stars.
And emotion clogs my throat.
One of her biggest fans believes in me. He trusts me. And I’m honored to be on the receiving end of such a monumental sentiment. His trust is not something I take for granted.
Nate clears his throat. “Are my girls ready?” he asks, his voice scratchy and unsteady.
As the three of us make our way to the kitchen, he peers at me over Teagan’s head and mouths, “Thank you.”
The smells of cinnamon and lavender grow stronger here in the kitchen, where we each disperse and jump into action, calling out what we need to take with us.
Teagan grabs her basket of cookies that I helped her wrap, and she places the tiara on top. Nate slips the strap of his camera around his neck and bunches all three of our jackets under his arm. I throw my belt bag over my shoulder, clutch my basket of cookies, then scan the kitchen one last time.
“All good?” I ask them.
“Let’s do this.” Teagan leads the way through the front door, her head held high.
I nudge Nate’s shoulder with mine as we fall into step together, and he leans down to whisper, “I fucking love you. Have I told you that today?”
“Only about seventeen times,” I tease.
“Still not enough.”
“There’s plenty of daylight left.”
He kisses my cheek before we pile into his Jeep, his parents and Sabrina in tow.
They follow us for the short drive to the square, and the last few weeks’ worth of agonizing over what cookies to enter will come to a head.
I cling to my basket in the front seat, nostalgia coursing through my veins as memories of my mom slam into me. With each passing street, calm washes over me as I’m reminded of all the things she taught me. All the things I’ll forever cherish.
We roll into one of the few parking spots left in the lot near Daphne’s boutique. RJ pulls into another at the end of the street, and Teagan jumps out to show him, Evie, and Sabrina the crown I gave her.
In the silence of the car, I release a slow breath that’s been building for weeks.
“You okay?” Nate asks.
“The last time I ate these cookies was with my mom.” My voice wobbles. “She set a plate of them on the table, gathered Dixie and me around her, then told us she was sick. Stage two lung cancer.”
Nate caresses the top of my hand, his fingers soft and comforting.
I swallow around the lump lodged in my throat.
“I had one bite of the cookie and thought it was the best dessert I’d ever had.
I had all these silly thoughts about how good food can be, and then she dropped the bomb.
Everything just… narrowed from there. It’s hard to explain, but in that moment, it was like I stopped seeing.
Nothing too distant in the future. Nothing too far out of reach.
My vision just paused.” I shake my bangs from my eyes and clutch the basket in my lap.
“It took me a long time to reach some semblance of normalcy after that—and again after she passed. If she could see me now… I just hope she’d be proud of me. ”
He leans over to cup his hand around my cheek. It’s so tender. So intimate and encouraging. “You are amazing, Lightning. I wish she were here today and every day to see just how amazing you are. She’d be so damn proud.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.” His grip on me slightly tightens until I feel his strength permeating through my body.
His gaze bores into me like a laser tearing me open, and he doesn’t shy away from what he sees. In fact, he loves all of it.
All of me.
Being able to share this holiday with Nate again means more than words can express.
The basket is heavy in my arms, but it’s also a welcomed weight. One that makes it clear that I’m keeping my mother’s memory alive.
And I have the man I love right next to me, for all the wonderful moments and the hard ones too.