Chapter 28
“Why are you making me go to The Pancake Bar?”
Maggie shot Polly a glance as they passed the gazebo. “You need a break from Bloom, and you love his pancakes.”
“Love is a stretch. I tolerate them.”
That wasn’t remotely true, but Polly only admitted to her love of Basil’s pancakes in her sleep or when she was drunk.
Basil had been in business for a long time. His father had run the shop before him, and The Pancake Bar had been their go-to meal as teenagers.
“So that wasn’t you who asked for a pancake tower as your sixteenth birthday cake?” Maggie asked, already knowing the answer.
“Nope. Not me. And if it was, I was having a teenage episode.”
“What about when you told me you dreamt about bathing in Basil’s homemade honey butter syrup?”
“Oh my God, do you memorize every little thing I say?”
“Specifically for these moments.”
“Okay, well, memorize this fun story—two days ago Basil came into Bloom and loudly told everyone that my homemade muffins look like they lost a fight with a microwave.”
Maggie bit back a laugh, because she could see Basil saying that. He wasn’t the most mature person in Deep River, but he did make the best pancakes.
Polly didn’t fight fair, though. She was always telling customers that The Pancake Bar was closed or out of stock of something or their stovetop was broken.
“How do you bring this side out of so many men?” Maggie asked. “Basil. Joel.”
“I do not want to talk about Joel. The man has an ego the size of Texas. He’s annoying and loud and cocky and…”
They stepped into The Pancake Bar and stopped, because there in a corner booth were Joel, Connor, and Zac.
“Why does baby Jesus hate me?” Polly murmured.
Maggie couldn’t hold back the grin. “It’s like the universe wants you two together.”
“We’re sitting at the bar.” Polly tugged Maggie toward the stools at the front.
Basil stopped in front of them. “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite shop owner and her best friend.”
Polly rolled her eyes. “You got anything good here?”
“Only the best pancakes in the world.”
“Basil, you won that award thirty-five years ago.”
“And the recipe remains exactly the same.”
Maggie leaned forward. “She also loves your cinnamon rolls.”
Polly gasped. “Maggie!”
“What? You do. You say they’re the size of your head and so soft they feel like a pillow.”
“That they are.” Basil grinned at Polly. “I didn’t know you had such a love affair with my food.”
“I don’t,” Polly pushed.
“Oh, so you don’t want the last cinnamon roll?”
Her lips thinned. She wanted it.
Joel suddenly appeared on the other side of Polly.
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered under her breath.
“Morning, ladies.” Joel’s smile was wide. Probably as wide as Basil’s. “Did I hear something about cinnamon rolls?”
“And pancakes,” Maggie said, receiving a don’t-encourage-him glare from Polly.
“I haven’t decided what I’m ordering yet,” Polly said, half turning her back on Joel. “If you’ll excuse us.”
“So you need a few more minutes?” Basil asked.
“Yes.” Polly grabbed a menu and opened it, even though she knew every single item on the list. Like the pancakes, the menu also hadn’t changed in thirty-five years.
Maggie gave Basil a small smile. “Thanks. Shouldn’t be long.”
“Okay, but I’m not holding the roll.” Basil stepped over to Joel. “Anything else for you and the guys?”
“A cinnamon roll, please.”
Polly gasped and swung around to Joel. “You’re taking my cinnamon roll?”
“Yours? You just said you weren’t ready to order.”
“Of course I was going to order it! I love those stupid things.”
Basil put the roll on a plate and slid it in front of Joel. Then Joel did the unthinkable—he stuck a fork in it and put a huge chunk into his mouth. “Mm. That’s good.”
Oh, Jesus.
Polly’s jaw dropped, the anger so thick in the air that Maggie could almost feel it.
Joel offered her the fork. “Want some? I’ll share.”
“You want to know what I want?” Polly growled.
Okay, time to sit somewhere else.
Maggie grabbed Polly’s arm and tugged her away from the counter. It was for Joel’s safety. “We’ll have two of your pancake stacks, Basil,” Maggie called over her shoulder.
They sat around one of the tables. Polly was still seething. “Can you believe that guy?”
“I told you to order it.”
“That’s not the point, Maggie. He only ordered it because he knew I wanted it.”
It was true. Joel had baited her.
“I could kill him. I could—” She stopped, her gaze on the door. “Oh my God, Jesus does hate me.”
Maggie followed her friend’s gaze to see Polly’s mother, Olivia Mack, stepping inside, and beside her, a man who looked to be in his mid-forties.
“Do you think if I duck they won’t see me?” Polly asked under her breath.
Maggie glanced back right as Olivia looked their way. Her eyes lit up, and she tugged the man toward them. “Too late.”
“Polly, I didn’t know you were coming here this morning!” Olivia gushed when she reached the table.
Polly wrinkled her nose before rising to her feet. “Hi, Mom.”
Her mother pulled her into a hug. The woman was in her early fifties but looked at least twenty years younger. Polly said it was all the Botox, but the makeup definitely helped.
“And Maggie. My darling girl.”
Maggie rose and let the other woman pull her into a hug. “Hi, Olivia.”
“How many times do I need to tell you, it’s Liv. Olivia makes me feel old.” She turned and tugged the guy beside her forward. “Maggie, this is Jonah. Jonah, this is Polly’s best friend and basically my second daughter.”
Maggie smiled at the man. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too,” he replied, nodding. He had a few slivers of gray in his black hair, which made him look distinguished. Or maybe that was the black suit jacket.
Olivia swiped a lock of hair behind her ear with her left hand.
Maggie saw it the same time as Polly.
Oh no.
Polly gasped. “What’s that?”
Olivia’s grin widened. “We’re engaged! I wanted to tell you last night, but you canceled our dinner so…I guess this is as good a time as any.”
Polly’s mouth hung wide open. “You’ve been dating for two months.”
“It feels like longer.” Olivia looked up at Jonah, eyes softening, almost glazing over. “Plus, you don’t get a choice in how fast you fall.”
“You sure as hell do,” Polly growled.
The man slipped his arm around Olivia, and even though Maggie couldn’t see exactly where he was touching her, Maggie was pretty sure it was her ass.
Polly obviously saw it too, because she looked like she was going to throw up. Or maybe that was from the engagement news.
“We were going to get our pancakes to go, but we could stay? Pull up a chair?” Olivia suggested.
When Polly just stood there, face pale, Maggie cleared her throat. “We would have loved that, but Polly was helping me with some business stuff and we’re on a bit of a time crunch.”
“Oh. Okay. Next time.”
When the two of them left the table, Maggie pulled Polly down into her seat. She gave her friend a few seconds before leaning close and asking, “Are you okay?”
“Why does she always do this? What is this, her fourth engagement? They break her heart every time, and I always have to pick up the pieces.”
Maggie touched her hand. “I’m here now. I’ll help you with those pieces.”
Polly nodded, but her usual feisty energy was gone. Maggie hated how sad Olivia made her. But it was true—her mother had forever been chasing men and relationships, then relying on Polly to help her recover when they didn’t work out.
Maggie glanced up to see Joel still at the counter. He was watching Polly, but his normal smile was gone, a frown in its place.
The café door opened again, and this time, Ethan stepped in. Maggie offered a small smile before rising. “Hey. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“What are you talking about? I told you.”
“When?”
“In the—”
“Ethan.” They both looked behind him as Nel stepped inside the café.
Maggie: Hey. I miss you.
Ethan’s mouth curved as he read the Facebook message from Maggie. He leaned back in his seat, base quiet around him.
Ethan: We woke up together.
Maggie: I don’t think you understand how much I love you, and how much Ethan I need in my life.
Ethan: However much it is, it can’t be as much as I need you.
Maggie: Hm. I’ll agree to disagree.
There was a small pause before the next message came through.
Maggie: Can I ask you something?
Ethan: Anything.
Maggie: If I hadn’t come back…what would have happened? Would we both have just moved on?
Shit, that was a complex question for a Facebook message. It took him a minute to word his response.
Ethan: I was never able to move on, because I knew you were somewhere out there in the world, and I always hung on to the hope that we would find each other again.
The three dots popped up, then disappeared.
The text thread from his friends lit up.
Joel: Holy shit, Ethan, why didn’t you tell us how good these pancakes were?
Zac: I’m considering making them my death row meal.
Ethan: I told you he won an award for best pancakes in the world.
Joel: In 1990. You made it sound like he was holding on to an expired title.
Zac: I’ll award this man best pancakes in the world right now.
Connor: Maggie’s here, by the way.
Ethan straightened, the thought of pancakes suddenly too fucking appealing.
He switched back to the Facebook chat with Maggie.
Ethan: Seeing as you miss me so much, I might come and have some pancakes with you.
He rose and shoved his cell into his pocket.
When he reached The Pancake Bar, his gaze immediately landed on Maggie. She wore a beige sweater and jeans. Her hair was down and everything about her was beautiful and effortless.
She smiled and rose. “Hey. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“What are you talking about, I told you.”
“When?”
“In the—”
“Ethan.”
He turned to see Nel stepping into The Pancake Bar behind him.
She smiled widely at him before offering a tighter smile to Maggie. “Hi.”
Maggie dipped her head. “Hey, Nel.”