17. Christopher
seventeen
Justin’s monthly community dinner is packed, like it usually is. It’s the cold that’s been going on for months now, and the early nights. People get literal cabin fever. They feel the need to get out. Get together.
Tonight, it looks like the whole town showed up. The business owners, the troublemakers, the gossips.
And those in need of a free meal, wearing their best clothes. It’s one of Justin’s proudest accomplishments. That he can help people in need.
At the bakery, we do our share to help out, and Alexandra and I are carrying the last of the stuff we made. Isaac brought the bulk of it earlier and stayed to enjoy himself. A welcome reprieve for the kid, one he can chalk up to “working” as far as his father’s concerned.
When we walk in—Skye skipping ahead, Alexandra in front of me, and me closing the back—there’s a card game going on in a corner, with a couple of the firemen, the pastor, the owner of the General Store, and my cousin Colton—Grace’s brother, who’s usually more of the hermit kind.
A group of women greet Alexandra loudly from afar, and my chest warms as I watch her plop the pies she’s carrying on the bar counter, hang her coat up, and join them.
This town has a way of pulling you in, and I love that for her. She’s not open about her life in New York, but I’m not getting a homesick vibe. If I’m counting right, she has one good friend in New York. And no family. She’s had an active social life here. And I like it.
So damn much.
This town saved me.
Alexandra might not know it, but she needs saving too. She’s too fucking lonely.
I strain to keep my eyes off her and focus instead on the laughter coming from behind the doors to the kitchen. Hoisting Skye on my hip, I kick the swing doors open and walk in on Justin stirring a sauce while sipping wine, and Shane, his chef, pouring carrot ginger soup in a chafer. They erupt in laughter as Wendy and Todd, the owners of the inn, deliver the punch line of one of their guests’ shenanigans. I plop Skye on the prep table next to Shane, who starts quizzing her on school and life in general.
It’s only minutes before Grace pops her head in. “You guys still think you’re the cool crowd? We’re too old for that. C’mon!” She grabs a bowl of potato salad and goes back into the pub. “Dinner’s served!” she announces, her voice not carrying at all, but knowing we’ll feel compelled to follow, as we should.
Soon, there’s a line at the makeshift buffet laid out on the bar, then we all take our seats at different tables. Isaac joins me, and I sit back, taking a slow drink of my beer. Skye is sitting at the kids’ table, laughing and eating. Alexandra is on the opposite side of the room, deep in conversation with Grace, Kiara, Autumn, and Cassandra. Her fingers dance on her phone, which she shows around the table. The women nod, then the conversation resumes. She sips her wine in tiny laps, her eyes dance, shiny. Happy. She says something, and everyone listens to her.
“Alex said she hopes you’ll enter the baking competition,” Isaac drops before shoving a heaping forkful of food in his mouth.
“She did?”
“Mm-hm,” he answers, and swallows. “She really hopes so. Heard her talk with Kiara about it.”
“That right.”
“Kiara was saying how you don’t give a shit. And Alex said you should start giving a shit or you’re gonna turn into an old fart.”
My head whips to him. “She said that.”
“Yup.” He finishes his soda in one long pull and stands to refill his plate.
My eyes flit from him to Alexandra, and I catch her looking at me. Pink tints her cheeks, but she holds my gaze.
Smiles at me.
Isaac takes his seat next to me. “She meant it in a good way, you know. I think.” He shrugs. “Never really know with women.”
“You know much about women, dude? You’re what, sixteen?”
“Seventeen. And I do know how she looks at you when you’re not looking, so I know she meant it in a good way.”
Alright. I’m done with this high school bullshit. I don’t need a seventeen-year-old filling me in on who in class has a crush on me.
But I am going to throw my hat in the competition.
“I’m not an old fart,” I tell Isaac.
Justin slides a chair next to me. “Isn’t that what all old farts say?”
Isaac chuckles.
“What’s this about?” Justin asks.
I glower at Isaac, but he ignores me, and says, “Alexandra thinks the boss should enter the baking competition, so now the boss has his panties in a tizzy because he doesn’t want to bother with that, but if Alexandra wants it…”
Justin’s shoulders shake as he tries to hold in his chuckle. “Dude,” he tells Isaac. “Don’t ruin a good thing, okay? We’ve all been trying to get him to do it. Don’t be jealous because some hot chick from the city rolls in and has him wrapped around her finger and he doesn’t even know it yet. You’re his teenage male employee. You’re in a different world. Just be thankful he’s going to do something good for himself. And for us. For the whole town.”
“I’m not jealous,” Isaac says. “Just saying, Alexandra comes in—”
“Why d’you say her name like that?” I cut in.
“He’s totally jealous,” Justin says to me. “Teacher has a new pet.”
“Jesus H. Christ.”
“So. You’re doing it?” Justin asks me, ignoring Isaac.
“Doing what,” I ask Justin.
“The competition.”
I pull a long draw on my beer. Since Alexandra talked to me about it this morning, it’s been nagging me. She’s right. I’m at risk of losing the passion, of being only focused on my day-to-day. I need a challenge. A risk. Even if there’s no real consequence and it’s all for show.
I also want to prove to her I’m the best.
“I’ll do it,” I say, and the minute I do, I realize I have to win. I will win.
For her.
“Yessss!” Isaac punches the air and high-fives Justin. “Mission accomplished.” Then he stacks his cutlery and napkin on his empty plate and stands. “I gotta go.”
“Take some pie home,” I tell him, smirking.
“You gonna tell her?” is his answer.
My eyes flick her way. “Enough with the high school shit, Isaac. Time to get your ass home now.” We both stand, I give him a quick bro hug and a big slap on the back. “You need anything, you lemme know, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he sighs. We both hope his father won’t give him too much shit for being out tonight. “You gotta tell ’em. All of ’em,” he says, his hand motioning to the room.
Justin stands. “I’ll do it,” he says.
Once the applause, the cheers, the backslapping, and the hooting die down, I search for Alexandra’s face in the crowd.
She and her friends seem to have barely registered what happened in the rest of the room. They’re hunched together. There’s something in their world that’s way more interesting than me entering a fucking baking competition, and that’s fine by me.
Last thing I need is Alexandra clued into the fact that she made me do that.
Still, I make my way toward Alexandra’s table. My excuse is, Skye is sitting on her lap. I gotta check on her.
It didn’t escape me, all evening, how comfortable she is with Alexandra. My daughter feels at home around the woman I want, and all alarm bells go off. Is this a good thing or a bad thing?
Fuck if I know.
Then I remember what Skye told me on Alexandra’s first evening with us—that Alexandra didn’t want to marry me. That can only mean one thing. That Skye doesn’t see Alexandra as a threat.
I need to keep it that way.
I also need some adult fun, like Grace says.
I also know that drunk Alexandra wants me to kiss her. Sober Alexandra can’t be that far out.
Sober me also knows once I kiss her, I’ll want more. And I’m ready to bet she’ll want more too.
But for now, I need to know what’s so interesting on Alexandra’s phone. And Skye has given me the perfect excuse to creep up to her, smell her, maybe even feel her hair.
Fuck man, get a grip. Your daughter has a sixth sense about you and women.
“So, that’s how you measure your click-through rate, but keep in mind that only matters if you have a qualified audience,” Alexandra’s saying.
The women are all drinking her words in as if she’s some kind of oracle. Even Emma moved from her table to stand within earshot, looking at Alexandra, arms crossed.
“That’s why your branding is so important. Know your target.” She shows them something. “Before and after,” she says, and they all oooh and aaaah.
“Daddy!” Skye exclaims as she spots me.
Alexandra blushes, and she’s so obvious I immediately regret coming over to her table.
“You guys stealing my apprentice away already?”
“Shhhhh… She’s showing us something important,” Grace answers.
They all hover back over Alexandra’s phone. It’s full of beautiful pictures of the local businesses, their products, their people. It looks like professional photography to me. I know she spends a lot of time taking photos with her phone, but I didn’t realize she was so talented.
It makes me wonder again about her motivation for this apprenticeship. I’m concerned about her.
“How come I don’t see the bakery?”
Skye grabs my hand, and I’m so close to Alexandra her scent intoxicates me.
She glances my way but continues swiping through her phone. She switches screens on her phone and pulls up a social media app. It’s her account, and she has a lot of photos of Emerald Creek. “I do have some photos of the bakery.” She types something on her screen and a slew of photos of the bakery appears.
They’re filled with warmth and really make it look great. I never realized my bakery was so… wholesome. There are photos from the outside looking in, the darkness of the street framing the lit windows like a promise of what’s inside.
Willow smiling as she hand wraps confections. The line of costumers chatting together. Isaac carrying trays of cinnamon rolls out of the oven. Close-ups of full shelves of breads.
Then, I see photos of me working in the lab, carrying bread, talking to customers. I generally hate seeing myself, but I have to admit her photos make me look embarrassingly good.
I clear my throat. I need to get out of here. I lean over to kiss Skye on the head and am about to tell her to be good before I get myself back to the safety of my table.
I’m impressed and proud at how good Alexandra is. I should freak out over the stakes I have running on her, but I’m not. The fact that, if she fails, I’ll need to repay my grant barely registers in my mind. What I’m concerned about is, why the hell is she wasting her time trying to get a grasp of baking, which she doesn’t have a talent for, when she could make a killing following her true passion?
The words fall out of my mouth. “You sure you want to continue the apprenticeship? Seems to me you have a customer base for your own business. Right, ladies?”
The ladies approve loudly.
“What was all that ruckus about?” Grace asks me.
“What ruckus.”
“The clapping and stuff,” she says, gesturing to where Justin is.
“Oh, nothing. The guys got a little excited that I’m throwing my hat in the baking competition.”
“You are not,” Emma snaps.
“That’s great!” Grace says at the same time.
“That’s ridiculous,” Emma counters. “He’s got a business to run!”
“Oh,” Grace backs away. “You gonna be okay with that?”
Alexandra is looking at Emma, me, and Grace. Skye’s face is ecstatic. The way Alexandra and Skye look at me, both excited, is all I need. “’Course I’ll be okay,” I say as a slow smile spreads across my face. “It’s gonna be fun.”
I wink at Alexandra, who turns a sweet shade of pink, and ignore Emma’s disapproving grunts. “Ladies, sorry for the interruption.”
Back at my table, I’m met with Justin’s smirk and a pint of beer. “Spill it,” he says, leaning forward so only I can hear him. “How far did you take it with her?”
“The hell you talking about.”
“You forget I saw you carry her out of here last night. Cross The Green with her on your shoulder. Hell, half the town saw you guys. And she liked it. As in. Liked. It.”
I fight the urge to punch the smirk off him. “Fuck off.”
“She’s only staying a few months, you know.”
“And.”
“And, either she works out and you only have a few months to make her see that. Or she doesn’t and you only have a few months of fun ahead’a ya.”
“Fuck off.”
“Gotcha.”