Chapter 31
”Are you sure this is okay?” Aspen”s timid voice called from the kitchen doorway.
When she showed up to open Whisk Me Away this morning, she walked in to find me elbow-deep in pastry dough. I couldn”t help but smile at her surprised expression as she took in the scene before her. Yesterday, after church, I spent the afternoon lost in thought, brainstorming new recipes to introduce at the bakery. With the aim of diversifying our offerings, I wanted to add a few savory breakfast options to our menu.
”Really, Aspen. It”s fine,” I reassured her. “If you don”t mind manning the front, I”ll stay back here and make sure we are fully stocked,” I gave her my best attempt at a confident smile.
Aspen gave me a quick nod before heading back to the front. I was thankful for all her hard work. This place would have gone under if it hadn”t been for her. Aspen gave me the peace of mind to grieve without worrying about the future of my bakery.
As I worked on perfecting the dough, my mind buzzed with excitement, envisioning the reactions of our customers when they tasted these new creations. I have always enjoyed experimenting in the kitchen, pushing the boundaries of flavor and texture to create something truly unique.
This was the first time since Mom left us that I felt this motivated to bake. Every time I stepped into the kitchen, I was assaulted with memories of my time with her growing up. All the times, she would sit me on the counter and let me get my hands dirty, teaching me the ins and outs of baking. I could still hear her laughter ringing in my ears as we mixed ingredients together, her patient guidance shaping me into the baker I am today.
But in the days following her passing, the kitchen had felt like a hollow shell of its former self, devoid of the warmth and love that Mom had infused into every dish. The thought of baking without her by my side was almost unbearable, a painful reminder of the void left in my life.
Yet today, as I immersed myself in the familiar rhythms of mixing and rolling dough, I felt Mom”s presence surrounding me, a comforting embrace that urged me to keep going.
I hadn”t realized I was crying until I felt the tears that coated my cheeks. I used my shoulder to wipe away the wetness when someone cleared their throat in the doorway.
The sound scared me so bad I flinched. My flour-covered hands flew to my chest as I spun around to find Brant standing just inside the kitchen, his hand still propping open the door.
”Brant!” I breathed.
The sight of Brant standing in the doorway caused feelings of guilt to bubble up. I”d been pushing him away, and now he”s standing here looking handsome in his backward hat. His hands were stuffed in the front pockets of his dark-wash jeans, and he was staring at me with a look I couldn’t read.
”Hey, Peach,” Brant said, his voice gentle yet tinged with something I couldn’t quite decipher. ”Mind if I come in?”
I nodded, trying to suppress the uneasy feeling swirling inside me. ”Sure, come on in.”
He stepped fully into the kitchen, his presence filling the space with a familiar warmth that I missed. It”s been too long since we’ve had a proper conversation, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for pushing him away.
Brant came to a stop on the other side of my worktable, his eyes searching mine. ”I”ve been trying to reach you.”
My heart skipped a beat. Was he going to confront me for ghosting him? The thought sent a wave of anxiety coursing through me.
What if he”s angry with me? I knew I”d been distant lately, but I just couldn”t bring myself to face him. I”ve been struggling, and I didn”t want to burden him with my problems.
”I just want you to know I”m here for you. I”m not going anywhere. I can”t imagine the pain and grief you are working through.” Brant”s voice was soft yet resolute. “I see you, Karis Thompson. Please don’t shut me out, trust me with that big, beautiful heart of yours.”
His words caught me off guard, and I was at a loss for words for a moment.
”I...” I started, my voice catching in my throat. ”I didn”t mean to shut you out. It”s just—things have been really tough lately,” my words came out in a rush.
Brant moved around the counter, reaching for me. He gently squeezed my hand in his. ”You don”t have to go through this alone, Karis. Whatever you”re facing, we”ll face it together. Always.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I finally let myself lean into his embrace. All the guilt and uncertainty melted away in that moment, replaced by a profound sense of relief. Brant may not have all the answers, but having him by my side made the journey seem a little less daunting.
Brant pulled back slightly, his gaze intense as he met my eyes.
”Peach, I”ve been thinking a lot lately, and I”ve come to a decision. I”m done giving you space. I”m ready to give this thing between us a real shot.”
His words hung in the air, and I was momentarily stunned. Did he just say what I thought he said?
”Brant, I...” I stammered, struggling to find the right words. ”I don”t know what to say.”
He smiled but his eyes still held a hint of uncertainty. ”You don”t have to say anything right now. Just know that I care about you more than I”ve ever cared about anyone. And I want to see where this could go if you”re willing to take that chance with me.”
His vulnerability caught me off guard, and I felt a flicker of hope stir within me for the first time in a long while. Maybe this could be the fresh start I”d been longing for.
Was it possible that things could really work out between us? After all the walls I built up, could I finally let someone in and allow myself to be happy?
I took a deep breath, letting his words sink in. ”Brant, I”m scared,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. ”But I want to try. I want to see where this could lead.”
His face lit up with a smile, and he pulled me into a gentle embrace. At that moment, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders.
”Will you teach me how to bake?” Brant whispered against my hair.
My head swung back, taking in the serious look on his face.
”Wha—What? You want me to teach you how to bake?” The thought of spending the day baking with Brant made me ridiculously happy.
”If you”re willing. I can”t promise any amazing skills, but I have two hands ready to work,” he held both hands between us as if to emphasize his point.
I couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled out of me.
”Have you ever baked anything before?” A genuine smile tugged at my lips.
Brant eyed me for a minute before shaking his head. ”I mean, it”s possible I helped my Gram bake cookies in the kitchen as a kid, but not in recent memory,” the smile he gave me had my breath catching in my lungs.
The image of a younger Brant with his messy brown hair bouncing around the kitchen with his Gram flashed in my mind. I could almost see the flour-dusted countertops and smell the aroma of freshly baked cookies lingering in the air. His small hands eagerly reaching for ingredients, his laughter filling the room as he clumsily stirred dough under Gram”s watchful eye.
It made me long for the day when I had a little one of my own that I could spend hours upon hours baking with. The thought of being able to pass on the knowledge and skills my mom taught me and her mom before that had me tearing up. I blinked rapidly, hoping to clear away any sign of glassiness from my eyes. I didn”t want to explain to Brant where my mind just went.
”Let”s do it, then!” I clapped excitedly, turning to the prep table. ”Right now, I’m finishing up some breakfast puff pastries. Then I need to make more of my blueberry crumble muffins.”
Brant’s groan filled the small space. ”Those are my favorite,” he said, shaking his head.
”Then you”re in for a treat,” I shot a wink over my shoulder as I began filling the pastry dough with the sausage and cheese mixture.
This day was turning out to be exactly what my heart needed.