Chapter 15
LIV
The next two weeks fly past.
The cupcake stand is ready to go, and I’ve got plenty of inventory to sell. I’ve got a cash box, an app to take credit card payments, and Hailey connects with a local accountant to help us with stuff like properly keeping books and paying the right amount of tax.
I even paint a pretty sign for the stand with a picture of a yellow cupcake with a pink daisy on it and the words The Flour Girl underneath.
On a day when the weather is just too nice to stay inside, I take a walk out on the grounds of Hall House and run into Caleb and Daisy exploring the rose garden. We walk together for a while. Daisy takes my hand and we collect some tiny stones and colorful fall leaves.
Then we met up again a few days later in the entry hall. Caleb is across from the piano, leaning against the wall under two of Miss Philippa’s paintings and watching as Miss Edie helps Daisy plunk out one note at a time of “Mary Had a Little Lamb.”
It’s raining, and there is something so cozy about standing in the foyer with the sounds of the rain outside and the tinkling notes of the piano mingling.
“Is she taking lessons?” I ask Caleb quietly.
“She just got excited when she saw Miss Edie,” he replies, shaking his head. “And the next thing I knew, there they were.”
I nod. It’s so sweet. And Daisy seems really into it.
“My mom said she’d love to watch Daisy one night so we can go on a date,” Caleb says unexpectedly.
I look up at him in surprise. Would the date be just another part of our subterfuge? Or is he really asking me out?
I’ll never know, because Daisy launches herself off the piano bench at that moment and runs over to hug me.
And before we get a chance to talk more, Caleb has to take her to the physical therapist and I have to go work at the diner.
I also go to talk to Alice. Twice.
Alice’s office is at the back of an office campus that was designed to look like English row homes. It’s all newly built with a massive parking lot, and something about the design actually makes it feel more soulless than if the buildings were just plain concrete.
But when I get to Alice’s office the first time, it’s actually really lovely.
It’s on the second floor with massive windows that look out over the woods behind the office complex.
She has several low-backed sofas and rocking chairs, and even a bean bag on the floor so patients can sit wherever they want.
I choose a chair with a view of the woods.
The walls are hung with framed prints of peaceful landscapes and small shelves with tiny painted clay animals that Alice makes in her spare time.
A row of wall hooks is home to a rainbow of thick crocheted blankets, handmade by her mother.
She tells me that I can grab one to snuggle under if it makes it easier to talk.
The way Alice mentions that reminds me that my own bad memories are pretty minor in the realm of the people she must help. And that makes it a lot easier to open up right away.
It turns out that I really don’t mind telling her about who I was and who I want to be now. Talking to her helps me recognize some of the guilt I’ve been carrying for changing the way I look, even though I know it’s a good thing, and not a judgement of my past self.
Talking with her also helps me feel the link more strongly between the many versions of Olivia Williams.
By the end, I’ve unloaded some of my ugliest thoughts and Alice held them up to the light for me and helped me look at them and see them for what they are. I leave the first visit feeling a little raw, but thoughtful too. There’s peace in revealing my darkest corners to someone who isn’t a friend.
I spend my second visit talking about the present and the situation I’m in right now with Caleb and Daisy.
It’s amazing to share my story with someone who listens without judgement, even though what I’m telling her seems like it should be impossible.
While Hailey and Tessa can’t help reacting with protectiveness and their own feelings, Alice neatly helps me unpack my own.
I find myself telling her about the changes I see in Caleb, and about my own motivations for wanting to be with him, none of which have anything to do with high school.
When I ask her if she thinks I have Stockholm Syndrome or something, she simply smiles and then walks me through a couple of questions. Each of them give me the chance to consider a different facet of whether my attraction to Caleb feels healthy.
And when I’m finished thinking through everything out loud, I just know. Whatever our past might have been, the Caleb I know now is someone I can feel good about having in my life.
Which means I need to tell him the truth. Coming clean with Caleb about our shared past won’t be fun, but it’s necessary if I want something real with him.
And I do.
Maybe a third visit will help me settle on how I want to do it, and why I’ve held back for so long.
On the day of Caleb’s first real game of the season, I take my own car to the arena. Hailey is in the passenger seat and a couple hundred beautifully decorated cupcakes come along for the ride, carefully packed into bins that fill the backseat and the hatch.
We’re both wearing cute yellow dresses with pink aprons on top. Hailey dreamed up the fun uniform that matches the logo and had them custom-made for us.
“Can you go a little slower?” she asks nervously.
I laugh, because it’s usually me asking her to slow down. But I understand—it would be awful to ruin all the cupcakes.
We get to the arena and unload without any issues. Soon the stand is looking just right. In fact, with all the lavishly frosted cupcakes behind the glass, it’s even nicer than I pictured it.
Hailey takes about a million photos and starts posting them online.
“Everything okay?” I ask a few minutes later when she lets out what I hope is a happy squeal.
“Caleb just reposted a couple of my photos,” she says. “And he says he can’t wait for everyone to try his girlfriend’s unbelievable cupcakes.”
“That’s so nice of him,” I say. But it makes me a little nervous. I sure hope the treats live up to the hype from the team’s star center.
I’m a little sad not to be out there to see him in his first real game of the season. But there’s a big screen right across from the stand, so we’ll be able to watch the game from here, which is pretty cool.
A few minutes before the doors are scheduled to open for the fans, Hailey begins pacing nervously up and down the hall.
“Hey,” I say to her. “Are you okay?”
I’m nervous too, really nervous. But I’m surprised to see it from Hailey, who has always been so carefree and confident.
“Oh, wow, I’m so sorry, Liv,” she says immediately, coming back to join me at the stand.
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “I’ve just never seen you like this.”
“Don’t judge,” she says, stealing a glance at me.
“Never,” I tell her.
“This is your day, Liv, one hundred percent,” she says.
“But today is kind of a big deal for me too. I’ve never been part of something like this.
You know me—I start things all the time and change my mind.
But we really did this. And that’s… big for me.
That’s all. I’m just really proud to be along on your new adventure. ”
My heart tugs and I’m reminded that none of us are perfect. Maybe Hailey has always been gorgeous and she’s never had to worry about money, but she’s got her own struggles.
“This is our day,” I tell her firmly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “And I’m so proud of us. No matter what happens, this is amazing, right?”
We both look at the rows of cupcakes, and then we’re laughing and hugging each other tight as the doors open and the crowd pours in.
“Whoa,” someone says from just down the hall. “Cupcakes.”
After that, it’s all a blur. We sell so many cupcakes so fast that I worry we’ll crash our credit card app.
People are cooing over the frosting, and taking selfies with us, and buying half a dozen cupcakes like it’s nothing.
I’m absolutely in shock when our whole inventory is completely sold out by the end of the first period intermission, and there’s nothing left to do but break our stuff down, load up the car, and go back in to watch the game.
“Holy cow,” Hailey keeps saying. “That was awesome.”
I’m so amazed that I can’t say a thing. But I’m smiling like a fool, and I feel like I’ve found what I was born to do. I’m making people happy by doing something I love.
“I guess we could try to make more for next time,” I finally venture when we’re headed up to the box. “Maybe we can have a couple of backup bins behind the stand.”
“No way,” Hailey says. “Running out is great, scarcity increases demand. Instead, you should raise the prices and have a limit per customer.”
“Dang, girl,” I say. “You’re ruthless.”
“Nope,” she says. “Just determined to see this business succeed. If things go well enough, maybe you can do a food truck at the Farmer’s Market, or even open up a little shop in town.”
I can only smile. My best friend really believes in me, and I love it.
When we get up to the VIP booth, the rest of the Stallions friends and family section gives us a little round of applause. Hailey bows and gestures to me so I give a quick silly bow too.
Hailey and I chat with a few people, accept some more congratulations, and then head to our seats.
Apparently, we’re the buzz of the day up here. That and the sponsor who is here to watch Caleb.
Everyone is saying that if he plays well today, he might wind up with a huge and lucrative deal with a razor company.
Caleb mentioned it once, but he also told me that he thought he was out of the running for it when he got sent to the minors.
I guess that’s not the case after all. His dad is clearly wound up about it.
Once I’m settled in, Daisy calls my name, and I pull the plastic container out of my bag that holds the final cupcake, which I saved just for her.
“Thank you,” she says and signs, climbing out of her Nana’s lap and into mine. “Lovey.”
“You’re welcome, sweet Daisy girl,” I tell her.
She pats my cheek and settles in. I know I’ll wind up covered in frosting, but this snuggle is worth it.
She spots the mascot and points to him, letting out a funny little neigh.
“Yes, that’s Winny the horse,” I agree.
I glance over at Audrey and she’s giving me a funny look.
“Sorry I didn’t save you a cupcake,” I say, feeling awful. “I’ll make you a special one for the next game.”
But she doesn’t seem concerned about the cupcake as she looks from me to her granddaughter and back again.
“Do you know what it means when Daisy says that?” she asks me.
“Says what?” I ask.
“Lovey,” she says quietly.
“Lovely?” I’m guessing, but I’m pretty sure that’s right. Either that or it’s a nickname Daisy has for me, I haven’t figured that out yet.
“It means I love you,” Audrey says.
I bend to give Daisy a kiss on the top of her sweet head, and stay that way until the tears pass.