Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
It was such a thoughtful gift, considering Katy’s sleep troubles lately, but it was also very much Katy’s aesthetic. The nature aspect, the colors, the folklore of bad dreams being caught in the webbing.
Juliet knew my daughter.
And it was obvious she cared for her.
Katy picked up the next box, a small square. Her voice went flat when she said, “It’s from Mr. Daniels. Oh! And Juliet.”
Juliet snapped her head to look at Mr. Daniels, who stood on the other side of Papaw. She whispered, “It was supposed to just be from you.”
He came to stand next to her and whispered back, “I wouldn’t have thought of it if not for you.”
Katy was watching them closely, her face a picture of curiosity as she unwrapped the box. Her pale eyebrows nose-dived as she pulled out an oak leaf. She glanced at Juliet and Mr. Daniels, questions stamped all over her small face.
Mr. Daniels held up a finger. “Stay right there.” He ran into the house.
I turned to Juliet. “What’s all this about?”
“You’ll see.”
A moment later, Mr. Daniels came out with a flowerpot in his hand.
It held only a scraggly stick stuck into soil.
He crouched down and set it in front of Katy.
“I felt terrible when my trees got sick and I had to take them down. I missed them deeply, so I knew I needed to plant new ones in honor of them. I went to a few nurseries but didn’t find anything that felt right.
I was being very picky because I knew the new trees would have to be just as special as the old ones.
Then, in early springtime, I was walking by your papaw’s house and saw his beautiful oak tree, so similar to the ones I’d taken down.
Your papaw was gracious enough to let me take some cuttings from that tree, and I’ve been nursing them along, planning to plant them in my yard when they got big enough.
Then Juliet came to me yesterday and suggested that you might like one.
Another Bill for you to love. One day, hopefully, this little twig will be as big and grand as he is. ”
Cautiously, Katy reached out and touched the stick, let her fingers run along the thin bark. Then, in a sudden burst, she lunged forward and threw her arms around Mr. Daniels’s neck. He dropped to his knees and slowly put his arms around her. My breath caught and emotions churned.
I glanced at Juliet and knew without a doubt that she didn’t just care for Katy. She loved her. For her to know exactly what Katy needed most—and saw that she received it? Well, that was love, pure and simple.
Tears stung my eyes. Clenching my jaw, I told myself to pull it together. To not think about the goodbye ahead.
And how Juliet’s heart was going to break as well.
It was the first time I’d considered she was going to be hurt, too, when she left, and I was ashamed I hadn’t realized it before.
As Katy showed off Baby Bill, I stuffed down my feelings and checked on Mary Joy, who was nodding off in Nettie’s loving arms. I checked on Renny, too.
This was a long outing for him. He assured me he was just fine and didn’t need a thing, so I doubled back to help with the wrapping paper cleanup, which Jake and Georgia had begun to tackle.
As I bent to collect ribbons and bows, I heard her say to Jake, “Well, if you ever do decide to move here, then I’m happy to help you find a place.”
I stopped in my tracks, not sure I’d heard what I thought I heard. “Wait. What do you mean, if he decides to move here?” I faced him. “Don’t you already live here?”
His brows dropped low. His voice, too. “Temporarily. Just six weeks. I thought you knew.”
Georgia looked between the two of us. Her face paled, and she stepped closer to me, her shoulder bumping mine. Taking sides, as if she sensed the chasm that had just opened up between Jake and me.
I was suddenly having trouble breathing. “But Evanthe doesn’t do short-term rentals.”
The words came out cracked, broken. I started counting in my head, trying to figure out how long he’d already been here. Then I realized it didn’t matter.
He was leaving.
“She made a family exception,” he said, taking a step toward me.
I took one step back.
Georgia was talking, low and slow, and I missed half of what she said but picked up the gist of it. He’d recently bought a condo in Florida. Closing took a while. He came here to wait. He’d never intended on staying.
He was leaving.
Daisy was leaving.
We were going to have to say goodbye.
Katy was going to be crushed.
And any hopes I’d been harboring crashed to the ground, split open, bled into the lawn.
I felt so stupid, for letting my guard down, for thinking that sometimes people stayed put. For thinking that maybe one of the stockings I’d seen hanging on the fireplace in my dreams might have been his.
Before I made a total fool of myself, I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. “I need to get the cake.”
Jake said, “I can—”
“No.” I shook my head, struggled against tears. “No.”
Georgia said, “I—”
I shook my head again. She sighed but stepped back. I hurried into the house. I needed to be alone, even if only for a moment.
Once in the kitchen, I bent double, sucked in a breath, and tried to pull myself together.
Just get the cake, carry it outside. Sing the birthday song. After that, everyone would go home. I could give the girls a bath and tuck them in bed for the night. Then I could fall apart. Only then.
I took another deep breath, stood tall, and wiped my eyes.
I could do this.
I could.
My hands were shaking as I placed eight candles in front of the dragon’s mouth—some of them touching a fondant flame.
My hands were still shaking when I pulled out my phone to take a couple of quick pictures before I lit the candles.
So much so that when I leaned in for a close-up, I lost my grip, and my phone nose-dived into a corner of the cake.
My breath hitched, and I flew into panic mode. I rescued my phone, then tried to fix the cake with my fingers, but it seemed the more I tried to help, the worse it looked.
Taking a step back, I stared in horror at the buttercream covering my fingers, and the damage to the perfect, beautiful cake. Slowly, all the emotions I’d been ignoring started to bubble up.
I tried to hold them in as I washed my hands. But all it took was one more look at the cake, and they spilled over.
I crumbled, sobbing.
A second later, I felt someone at my side. Rubbing my back. Tucking my hair behind my ear.
“What’s wrong?” Juliet asked. “Did something happen with Jake? You two looked tense a minute ago.”
Nodding, I couldn’t stop crying. “And cake,” I managed to say, gesturing vaguely toward the disaster. “Dropped my phone.”
She stepped away. “Oh no, oh no,” she said, her voice rising with each word. A moment later, she pressed tissues into my hand. “We can fix the cake.”
I noticed she’d specified the cake. Jake was probably a lost cause.
He was leaving. Oh, it hurt.
Leaning against the counter, I sniffled and snuffled. “How?”
Juliet looked all about, as if seeking inspiration.
Finally, she snapped her fingers. She turned the oven on to broil, grabbed a baking sheet, and covered it with nonstick foil.
Then she found a jar of Marshmallow Fluff in one of the cabinets.
In no time flat, she’d spread a thin layer of Fluff on the foil and stuck it under the broiler.
I noted that she had known exactly where to find everything she needed. She was perfectly at home here.
She was in her place.
I could see it easily, but could she?
“The only damage is on this corner,” she said, pointing.
I didn’t need to be reminded.
“We’ll just cut it off and pile toasted marshmallow there to hide the fact that it’s missing. We’ll make it seem like it was done on purpose, since the dragon is facing in that direction. We’ll joke that if you want a fire-breathing dragon cake, then sometimes it comes with consequences.”
The kitchen was filling with the sweetest scent of toasted marshmallow, and I felt like I was falling apart, piece by piece.
Gently, Juliet put her hands on my upper arms. “Everything is going to be okay, Tallulah.”
I wanted to believe her, I really did, but more tears filled my eyes, giving form to my doubts.
When she hugged me, I all but clung to her like a life raft. Right now, she was the only thing keeping me from drowning.
I managed to say, “Please stay.”
She tightened her hold on me and said, “Don’t be silly. I’m not going anywhere.”
And for now, to carry me through the rest of this night, I pretended that she knew I meant long-term … and not solely for the rest of the party.