Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
It took effort, but Max managed to keep his expression blank as he walked back to his daughter, but his insides were a turbulent storm. He could still feel the softness of Carissa’s skin on his fingers.
“I’m here,” he said when he reached Nate and Lanie. “What did you need?”
“Nate and I are getting ready to leave. We wondered if you wanted to join us for dinner.”
“No, you two kids go have fun. I’ve got a steak with my name on it marinating in the fridge.”
Lanie raised an eyebrow. “Marinating? Since when do you marinate anything?”
“From what I’ve heard, you put some butter and pepper on it and call it done,” Nate said with a grin as he left the school.
“Oh, ha ha.” Max glared at both of them. “Go have your dinner and leave this old man in peace.” Without waiting for their response, he stalked off to his car.
The truth was, he’d been making an extra effort to improve his cooking ever since Lanie had set her wedding date. He knew his days of eating well were numbered. After spending the better part of ten years getting his dinners from the frozen food section, he was in no hurry to return to it.
Homemade meals. That was one of the many things he missed about Melody. She’d been a spectacular cook, which had clearly rubbed off on Lanie.
When he arrived home, he sat in the driveway for a moment, staring at his dark, empty house. Since his divorce, he’d thought about dating every now and again but had tried only a few times before swearing it off for good. A part of him was afraid he liked his own company too much to share it with someone new. But he had to admit that ever since he’d started spending time with Carissa, his perspective had shifted.
Climbing out of his truck, he trudged up the stairs to his home and unlocked the door, flipping light switches as he made his way to the kitchen. As he gathered the ingredients, he found himself wishing he and Carissa hadn’t been interrupted. Something had clearly changed between them, but he wasn’t sure where it was all leading… if it was leading anywhere.
He opened the sliding back door and stepped onto the porch. Evening was rushing in, casting his backyard into shadow. After setting his lone steak on the small table by the railing, he fired up the grill. Once it was hot enough, he set his steak on the grate and closed the lid. Soon, the delicious scent of roasting beef wafted through the air, and he inhaled deeply.
Part of him wished he’d invited Carissa over. The steak was a decent size, and they could have split it. Maybe opened a bottle of wine, though he wasn’t sure he even had wine in the house. He had a couple of russet potatoes he could have thrown on the grill to make it more of a meal.
Actually, that’s not a bad idea. He slipped into the house and grabbed a potato then wrapped it in aluminum foil before placing it toward the back of the grate, away from the flames. His stomach growled. He didn’t usually eat that late, but it’d been worth it to spend some extra time with his daughter and to see Carissa again.
In his mind, he replayed the moment the tear had appeared on her cheek. He’d acted on pure impulse, wanting to comfort her in what was clearly a moment of pain. While he and Melody had been divorced for years, it hadn’t lessened the pain her death had caused. And yet he could still only imagine how much harder it was for Carissa.
Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he flipped the steak and the potato. He needed to focus, or else he would give Lanie another reason to make fun of him.
Later, he’d finished his dinner and cleaned up the grill and the kitchen. The night was still young, and he had a lot of pent-up energy after his daughter had interrupted him and Carissa earlier.
“Might as well get some work done on that furniture,” he told the empty house. He headed into the garage and flipped on a light.
After running into Carissa at the diner the other day, he’d set aside some spare pieces of wood to practice on before he began carving the real thing. He was honestly afraid he wouldn’t remember how to maneuver his tools in the delicate way he used to. It took the better part of an hour for him to find his rhythm again, but once he did, he was pleased with what he produced.
A knock on the wall broke his concentration, and he glanced up, irritated. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on people wielding a knife?”
Lanie leaned against the doorframe, unperturbed. “I’ve been calling your name since I got back. Didn’t you hear me?”
He shook his head, turning his attention to his work. “Did you have a nice time?”
“Always.” She moved into the garage and picked up a piece he’d finished earlier. “Looks like you haven’t lost your touch.”
“Still rusty but improving with practice.”
With a nod, she set it down. “Steven’s here.”
Max peered toward the door. “He’s not coming out?”
“We were hoping you’d come in. He brought you something.”
After wiping his hands on his pants, Max headed into the house. His son hadn’t come by often since his accident, and truthfully, Max was surprised he was there then. But he took it as a good sign. Steven had continued to improve every day since the wedding, but his doctors were still recommending he take it easy.
He was sitting at the kitchen table with Rose behind him when Max walked in. They smiled at him and gestured to the chair at the end.
“We brought you dessert,” Steven said, sliding a plastic container over to him.
Inside was a small piece of chocolate cake. Max raised his eyebrows, but Steven just grinned. Apparently, his son didn’t care as much about his diet as his daughter did.
“Did you go out together?” After grabbing a fork, Max dug into the cake. It wasn’t as good as a homemade one, but it would do.
“Yeah, we met Lanie and Nate at The Muddy Oar. And then I thought we’d stop by and bring you their cake since I know how much you like it.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Max took another bite. “How’s married life?”
Steven took Rose’s hand and kissed it. “Amazing. Rose is almost all moved in, and we’re talking about going away to Mexico in the new year.”
“Assuming Steven gets the all clear from his doctor,” Rose added.
Lanie came in from the garage and shot a look of disapproval at Max’s cake. “Steven and I were talking about going apple picking this weekend.”
“Apple picking?” Max leaned back in his chair. “I can’t remember the last time we went.”
“Probably about a decade ago,” Steven said. “Before…”
The words he hadn’t said hung in the air between them. Before the divorce, before their family broke apart. Max swallowed thickly. They never really talked about those years, and he wasn’t about to start.
“Sounds like fun, though I’m not sure the weather will be great. Were you thinking Saturday?”
“Or Sunday,” Lanie said. “We wondered if you might want to join us.”
Traipsing through an orchard wasn’t exactly his idea of a fun time. In the past, he’d only gone because Melody made him in the name of “quality family time.” Then again, as he looked at his children, he realized maybe she’d had a point. After all, nobody had known back then how fleeting that time was.
“Sure, I’ll go,” he found himself saying. “We used to take you kids in October, as there was usually a greater variety of apples ripening with the cooler weather.”
Lanie frowned. “If the weather doesn’t cooperate this weekend, maybe we can plan for October instead.”
“Sounds good.” Max stood and stretched. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m beat.” He slapped Steven on the back. “Tell me what you decide about apple picking.”
“Will do, Dad. Good night.”
“Night,” Max said.
As he headed up to his room, he had the strangest desire to invite Carissa to go with them. She’d said she loved autumn, and it might be a welcome distraction from the stress she was under with the proposal.
Almost as soon as the thought came to him, he dismissed it. Running into Carissa in town was one thing, but inviting her out with his family would send the wrong message. The last thing he wanted to do was break his promise to Lanie. How strange that when he’d made that promise, not dating Carissa had seemed like the easiest thing in the world. But he couldn’t deny his attraction to her.
It won’t last , he promised himself . After all, until recently, they’d barely been able to stand being in the same room together. His interest in her was fleeting and would fade in time. Once the wedding was over, they would go their separate ways, and he’d probably never see her again.
The weather that weekend was atrocious. They postponed apple picking until later in the season. Max spent the time holed up in the garage instead. By the time Wednesday rolled around, he had almost finished one of the nightstands. As he stepped back to scrutinize his work, he wondered what he would do with the finished piece. Perhaps he could give it to Lanie as a wedding present. The matching set would look great in a master bedroom.
At the same time, Nate had a fully furnished house, and as far as Max knew, Lanie planned to move there after the wedding. While the newlyweds might make some adjustments to better make it their home, he wasn’t sure refurnishing it was in the cards.
He crossed his arms and sighed. Maybe he should buy her something off the registry. That was why people made those lists, but that felt impersonal and detached.
Since he wasn’t a man of many words, making something with his hands might be the key to showing Lanie how important she was to him. He regretted not making her a larger priority when she was a teen. His initial bitterness over the end of his marriage had caused him to distance himself from his children. By the time he realized how much he’d hurt them, the damage had already been done. Steven was more willing to forgive him, but Lanie… Since Melody had passed, it felt like almost every conversation Max had with his daughter became a battle. No gift, no matter how much time and effort he put into it, would heal the broken parts of their relationship, but it was a start.
After checking his watch, he dusted off his clothes and headed into the house. He didn’t have much time before he was supposed to meet Lanie, Nate, and Carissa at the bakery. His stomach flipped at the thought of the wedding planner. They hadn’t seen each other or spoken since that moment in the parking lot.
He laid out a fresh set of jeans and a button-down shirt then hopped into the shower. As he rinsed off the sawdust and sweat, he tried to allow the warm water to calm his nerves. Unfortunately, it didn’t help. By the time he shut off the water, he was even more wound up than before.
He dressed quickly before moving to the sink to comb his hair. The reflection staring back at him appeared calmer and more collected than he felt.
“You’re being ridiculous,” he told himself as he combed his hair. “She’s just the wedding planner. In a few months, you’ll never see her again, and that moment or whatever it was will be a distant memory.”
Despite the conviction in his words, he didn’t believe a thing he said. Whether Carissa had felt something in that parking lot or not, he had. And since then, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. He could only imagine what seeing her that day was going to do to him.
Part of him wondered if he should make an excuse, but then he would miss time with Lanie. Besides, he was no coward. He straightened his shoulders and grabbed his jacket, wallet, and keys. Then, taking a deep breath, he headed to his car.
Lanie and Nate had both worked that day, so he was meeting them and Carissa at the tasting. Rose had promised to try to stop by, but with the hospital even more short-staffed than usual, they knew it wasn’t likely.
When Max pulled into the parking lot, he saw no sign of Lanie’s car. Carissa, on the other hand, was standing by the entrance of the bakery, armed with her War and Peace– sized binder. She saw Max and waved before crossing the street.
“Hey,” she called as he climbed out of his car. “Looks like you and I are the first to arrive.”
Great. He really didn’t want to be alone with her again, especially as the cool late-September wind picked up and whipped her hair forward, dousing him in the tantalizing scent of her perfume. Without thinking, he leaned closer to her and closed his eyes.
“Max? Are you all right?”
The confusion in her voice was like having a bucket of ice-cold water dumped over his head. He straightened up and cleared his throat, desperate to find some clean air that didn’t fill his head with thoughts he shouldn’t be having about his daughter’s wedding planner.
“I’m fine,” he said, though the words came out strangled. His eyes met hers, and he thought he saw something there beyond the concern. But then she blinked, and it disappeared.
“Lanie texted she’s going to be a bit late.” Carissa brushed her hair back from her face as the wind picked up again. “If you want, we can get out of this wind and wait.”
He led the way to the door. Once he was clear of her scent, he regained control of his emotions. Though that didn’t last because he stupidly opened the door for her, and the breeze as she passed made him lose his head all over again.
Get it together, McAllister. It would be a long evening if he couldn’t focus.
They headed toward the kitchen, where a large table had been set for the tasting. Carissa gestured to a seat on one side, and she sat across from him. For a moment, he was relieved to have some distance between them, then he realized he would essentially be able to stare at her all night.
While she busied herself with her binder, he did just that. Her graying hair was tousled around her head from the wind, making her appear more relaxed than usual. She shrugged out of her jacket, and beneath was a deep-blue sweater with a V neckline. As she scribbled notes, her small nose bunched up in an adorable way. Then she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and suddenly, he could barely breathe.
The sound of his daughter’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he jerked his gaze away from Carissa. He stood to embrace Lanie, grateful for the distraction.
His daughter immediately engaged Carissa in a conversation about the wedding plans, and he looked around the bakery. The dining area was small, with only a few tables and chairs set up opposite the counter. It wasn’t crowded, but he suspected they did most of their business in the early morning.
On the wall opposite the counter was a cute imitation of the game Candyland but with baked goods instead of candies. Cupcakes, cookies, fudge, muffins, and other pastries were painted in an assortment of colors to bring the mural to life.
A moment later, Nate arrived, and Carissa went to fetch the baker. Max breathed a sigh of relief. The sooner they started the tasting, the sooner he could get some distance from Carissa.
“Welcome to Bakeryland.” A woman with short brown hair and green eyes appeared beside Carissa. “I’m JoAnne, the owner of this establishment.” She glanced at Lanie with a warm smile. “And I assume you are the bride-to-be?”
Lanie nodded. “And this is my fiancé.”
JoAnne took Nate’s hand and squeezed it. “Wonderful to meet you both.” She turned to Max. “And you are the proud father of…?”
“Lanie.” He inclined his head to his daughter. “But I’m mainly here to eat.”
Lanie, Nate, and JoAnne laughed politely at his poor attempt at a joke. Carissa gave a tight smile but didn’t meet Max’s eyes. Perhaps he’d imagined the moment in the parking lot.
“All right. Well, I’ve spoken at length to Carissa, and I have an idea of what flavors you’re considering, but do you have a certain style you want?” JoAnne set a few photos on the table in front of Lanie and Nate. “We can go as fancy or as simple as you like, though keep in mind, we are on a bit of a time crunch.”
“We’d like to keep it simple,” Lanie said quickly with a glance at Nate. “We definitely want festive colors like red and green to match the Christmas theme.”
“So maybe something like this.” The baker laid out a photo of a tiered white cake with red and green flowers and other embellishments. “This is a rather simple design that is enhanced with edible flowers.” She set down another photo. “If you want a little fancier, we can create a gingerbread house cake with gingerbread cookies and candies as the embellishments. Or we can do something like this”—she laid down one last photo—“where the tiers themselves are either red or green and the embellishments are in other holiday colors.”
The photos were stunning. Max had had no idea how beautiful baked goods could be. Then again, he’d never admired a cake for its beauty, as he was more interested in its flavor.
Lanie and Nate exchanged a glance. “And how much would each of these cost?”
“It depends on how many layers you want and the number of guests,” JoAnne said. “If budget is a concern, it’s also possible to have what we call a dummy tier. It’s basically a fake, nonedible cake layer that’s used to make the cake seem larger than it is. That’s one way to save money on the cake.”
“Money isn’t a concern.” Max waved a dismissive hand.
“Um, yes, it is,” Lanie protested without looking at Max, but her hand clenched the photo she’d picked up. “Nate and I have a very specific budget.”
Max opened his mouth to interject, but Nate shook his head. “Please don’t start.”
Carissa cleared her throat. “JoAnne is aware of the budget. We’re still hashing out the guest list, but I would assume it would be between one hundred and one hundred fifty people. Right, Lanie?”
“That’s correct.”
With a nod, JoAnne pointed at the simple tiered cake with the red and green embellishments. “This is going to run you about four hundred dollars for the higher end of your guest list. The fancier cake will be closer to a thousand dollars. If you like the colored tiers, you could save money by having one dummy tier.” She smiled. “I’ve also worked with brides who used two dummy tiers and only had the top tier as a real cake for their first anniversary. Then we had a sheet cake in the back for the guests, which is the least expensive option.”
For a moment, Lanie’s gaze strayed longingly to the photo with the red bottom tier and the green and gold embellishments. But then Nate picked up the simpler design.
“How about this one?” he asked.
Although Lanie smiled, Max couldn’t help feeling it seemed forced. “But that’s not the one you really want, is it?”
Lanie shot him a warning look. “This cake is beautiful. It’ll be perfect for our wedding.”
“Sounds like a good plan. I’ll go get the flavors you’ve requested for tasting.” Without another word, JoAnne headed to the kitchen.
“I saw the way you looked at the other cake,” Max said the moment JoAnne was out of earshot. “If you’d prefer that one, I’m happy to pay the difference.”
Nate glanced at Max with a frown before addressing Lanie. “Is he right? Do you like the other cake better?”
Instead of responding, Lanie took a deep breath and whispered something that sounded suspiciously like she was counting down from ten. Then she turned to Nate with a smile. “All of the cakes were lovely, but it’s important for us to stay on budget.”
“You wouldn’t have to worry about the budget if you let me help you,” Max muttered under his breath.
Carissa raised her hand. “Why don’t we?—”
“Seriously, Dad?” Lanie’s eyes narrowed. “Since when do you care how pretty a cake is?”
“I simply want you to have the wedding of your dreams.” Max leaned back in his chair. “What’s the big deal? I’m helping to pay for the band. Why can’t I pay for the cake as well?”
From the corner of his eye, Max saw Carissa drop her head into her hands with a groan. Oops. He remembered a moment too late that Lanie didn’t know about the band.
“What does he mean he’s helping to pay for the band?” Lanie whirled on Carissa. “I thought you said the band was willing to work with our budget because we’re such big fans.”
Before Carissa could respond, JoAnne returned with an assortment of different cakes. She set them on the table, oblivious to the tension growing by the minute.
“This is our red velvet cake. I also have a vanilla, a regular chocolate, a peppermint chocolate, which is a seasonal favorite, and a few other options I thought might work with a Christmas wedding.” JoAnne beamed at each of them as another woman passed out forks and plates. “Please try all of them and tell me which ones you like best. Depending on how many tiers you get, you can have a different flavor for each tier. Enjoy!”
The moment they were alone again, Lanie opened her mouth to start in on Carissa, but Nate put a hand on her shoulder. They engaged in a silent conversation. Then Lanie nodded, and he cut her a piece of red velvet cake.
For the rest of the evening, they ate the cakes in a mostly tense silence. Only Lanie and Carissa voiced their opinions of the different flavors. Nate seemed to enjoy every flavor and had no preference. Meanwhile, Max kept his thoughts to himself. Apparently, he’d done enough damage.
As the tasting drew to a close, Lanie and Nate chose a more traditional vanilla cake for one tier and the peppermint mocha flavor for another to fit the theme of their wedding. They didn’t decide on the third layer, though it was clear they were leaning toward using a dummy tier to save money. It took effort, but Max held his tongue.
Once the cakes were cleared, Lanie grabbed Carissa’s hand and dragged her outside. Max slumped in his chair. It seemed no matter what he did, his relationship with Lanie would take one step forward and a hundred steps back.
Nate leaned forward. “You need to stop doing this.”
“I’m trying to help.”
Nate stared at him. “It’s not particularly helpful when you cause Lanie more stress by constantly undermining her. If she wants you to help her out with the wedding, she’ll ask.”
“You didn’t see her face,” Max said. “She looked so wistful at the cake with the red bottom tier.” He sighed. “I want to make her happy.”
“If you want to make her happy, you might try listening to her.”
“I do listen to her.”
Nate studied Max. “Has it ever occurred to you why she doesn’t want you to pay for the wedding?”
“Because she’s stubborn?”
To Max’s surprise, Nate laughed. “While that’s true, that’s not the reason.”
“Then why?”
Nate folded his arms on the table. “Because she doesn’t want the wedding to be another problem you throw money at.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Max demanded.
Instead of responding, Nate pushed back his chair and stood. “I’m going to go try to calm Lanie down. You have a good night.”
Alone at the table, Max tried to push Nate’s words out of his mind. But they played on repeat as if to torment him. Is that what Lanie thinks I do? Throw money at my problems? Then an awful thought occurred to him. Is she right?