Four
Lily
Sitting on the stool in the shop’s kitchen, my forearms begin to burn from kneading the dough.
Each steady push and pull keeps me grounded as I wrestle with my racing thoughts.
The constant monologue has been playing on an endless loop in my mind about how I am going to shatter my family’s world with the one word: cancer.
I even tried to convince myself to blurt it out, like ripping off a Band-Aid. But there is no easy way.
My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the bell above the door, alerting me that someone has stepped into the bakery.
“I’ll be right there!” I call out. Standing up from the stool, I wash my hands and wipe down my black apron.
I make my way toward the front counter and freeze when I see Ethan.
What is he doing here? He hasn’t set foot in this bakery since everything fell apart.
Oh, my God. Something has happened to our children.
“Is everything okay?” I ask calmly, even though I feel anything but that.
“Hey, Lily,” he greets me, his voice as smooth as aged whiskey, a sound that soothed me when we were together.
“Is everything okay?” I ask again.
He looks uncomfortable as hell. His posture is rigid, shoulders drawing in as if he’s trying to decide if he made a mistake stepping foot into my shop.
“Yeah…I... I wanted to check in on you,” he finally responds. “How have you been?”
“I’m fine, Ethan.”
He nods. “Good, good. That’s good.”
A ghost of a smile touches my lips at his obvious nervousness.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask him, trying to break the awkwardness between us.
He stares at me for a long, agonizing minute. I can’t breathe. He’s looking at me the way he used to, with a deep, searching gaze that can see right through my defenses.
“Can I have a four-pack of chocolate chip cookies?” he asks, his voice a little rougher.
I swallow back the urge to cry. When I first opened the shop, he used to swing by during his breaks to order exactly four chocolate chip cookies.
“Sure,” I rasp, not letting my emotions take over.
I slip on a pair of gloves and grab a vibrant purple treat box. Sliding the display case to the side, I reach in and retrieve the cookies, placing them inside. Sealing the box, I feel a twinge of sadness with each fold of the tab.
Walking over to the cash register, I ring up the total. “That will be $7.80.”
He pulls a ten-dollar bill from his wallet and hands it to me, his fingers brushing mine briefly. The contact sends a jolt through me, a fleeting spark of what once was. After completing the transaction, I pass him the box and his change.
“Anything else?” I ask.
He takes the box, offering me a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. “No, that’s all. It’s been a while since I had your cookies, and I realized how much I missed them,” he says, his words hanging in the air like an olive branch.
How do I respond to that? What does it even mean? I go with something simple, trying not to read too much into what this is. “Yes, it has been.”
He nods. “Thanks for this.” He raises the box slightly before turning toward the door.
As I start to retreat back to the kitchen, his voice stops me. “It’s good to see you, Lily, and I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
My heart splinters inside my chest. I wasn’t prepared for this day to come. To hear him speak to me with compassion and kindness, the way he used to, before he betrayed me.
I slowly turn to face him. “It’s good to see you too, Ethan.”
My words seem to hit a chord because he closes his eyes for a brief moment
He exits the shop without another word, and I let out a shaky breath. The tension that had kept me upright disappears, and my knees buckle. Unable to hold myself up any longer, I sink to the floor, the weight of the moment pressing down on me.
As soon as I pull up to my driveway, my phone rings. When I look at the screen, I see it’s Erica, Ethan’s mother. She’s probably calling to see the kids, but she can work it out with Ethan on one of his weekends.
I decline the call and walk to the door more sluggishly than usual.
The first thing I hear as I enter the house is Sam laughing with the kids. I lean against the wall and watch Ollie jump up and down excitedly as they play the game Charades.
“Mom!” Maddy is the first to see me, and she jumps over the couch, almost smacking Jake on the back of the head.
“Careful,” I laugh as she wraps her arms around my waist. I can feel my strength weakening as I hold her close to me.
“How was your day?” I whisper against her hair, taking in her vanilla scent.
“Good.” She rests her head on my chest.
Her grin turns to a frown. “Are you okay, Mom?” she asks quietly.
“Yeah, of course. Why would you ask that?”
She shrugs. “You look like you’re getting sicker.”
I give her a soft smile. “I’m just really tired, that’s all. Can you help me in the kitchen with dinner?”
“Yep!” She steps back and strolls into the kitchen.
Maddy’s my sous chef. Her eyes light up whenever we’re in the kitchen together.
I cherish each giggle, how she fishes the shells out of the batter, and the sneaky bites she takes when she believes I’m not paying attention.
But I am. I’m always watching. I will soak in each moment because I don’t know how many more we’ll have.
Jake slips his phone into his pocket and walks over to me. “Hey, Mom.”
I smile up at him. “Hi, Jake. How was work?”
He’s been working as a lifeguard at the community pool during the summer months.
“It’s always a good day when nobody drowns,” Jake says with a crooked grin.
A laugh slips out of me. “Yes, I’d say that qualifies.”
His grin widens before he turns toward the kitchen. “I’m going to help Maddy before she burns the house down.”
“I heard that!” Maddy yells from the kitchen.
“You were supposed to!” he shoots back, laughing.
Beneath Jake’s tough facade lies a soft heart, particularly when it involves me. After the divorce, he stood by my side, refusing to speak to his father for months until I finally had a heartfelt conversation with him.
Maddy takes everything in stride. At first, she was devastated to learn that her parents were no longer going to be together. Still, over time, she noticed I was smiling and laughing more, and she became more relaxed about how I was handling things.
Ollie rushes toward me, and I scoop him up in my arms. “How was your day?” I plant a kiss on his cheek, his excitement radiating back at me.
“Good!” he exclaims, his eyes sparkling. “We had cupcakes because it was Jessica’s birthday.”
“Really?” I reply, grinning. “What kind were they?”
He scrunches his little nose. “Chocolate.”
I give his side a light tickle, and he erupts in giggles. “Why the funny face? Chocolate is your favorite.”
Leaning in conspiratorially, he whispers like we’re sharing a top secret. “Because it wasn’t one of yours, Mama. You make the bestest cupcakes.”
He wraps his small arms tightly around my neck, and I can’t help but squeeze him back. “Aww, thank you, my sweet boy.”
“I want to help Maddy and Jake,” he declares, already wriggling to get down. I set him on his feet, and he immediately takes off, rushing toward the kitchen.
Sam approaches now that it’s just the two of us, her brow slightly furrowed. “Are you feeling okay?” she asks.
“I am,” I respond with what I hope is a convincing smile, but I can tell by the way she narrows her eyes slightly that she isn’t buying it.
I take a small breath. “I saw Ethan today.”
Her eyes widen. “Today?”
I dip my chin, a bit of a warm, bittersweet feeling swirling in my gut.
“Where?” she asks.
“He came into the shop.”
“No way. Seriously? Did he say why?”
“He said he was checking in on me. Wanted to make sure I was doing okay.”
A faint, wistful smile touches Sam’s lips. “Well, that sounds like the old Ethan, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I agree, though I still don’t quite know what to make of it—the sudden reappearance, the unexpected concern.
“Speaking of Ethan,” Sam begins, her voice dropping to a near whisper, her eyes darting over my shoulder to where the kids are laughing loudly in the kitchen. “Are you going to tell him?”
“Tell him what?” I ask.
“You know what. Don’t you think he should know? Especially with treatment starting soon?”
I shake my head firmly. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m no longer his concern.”
She exhales deeply. “Lily, I’m not trying to complicate things any further. Trust me on that. However, he is the father of your children. Don’t you think he deserves to know?”
“Sam, please. I honestly can’t handle this right now. It has been a very long day, and all I want is to spend the evening with my kids.”
Sam maintains eye contact for a prolonged, silent moment before finally giving in. The tension leaves her shoulders as she acknowledges the wall I’ve put back up.
“Alright,” she whispers.
I give her a small, appreciative nod. “Thank you. So,” I say, attempting to ease the tension in the air, “are you going to stay for dinner?”
A faint, weary smile flickers on Sam’s lips. “I would love to.”