“And you take after him.” The kindling popped and a few more flames appeared. “I never knew your dad as well as I wish I had, but he seemed very trustworthy. You knew he was the kind of man who would do what he said he would.”
Mark cut her a grateful look. “He was the best. I miss him every day.”
She slipped an arm through his and gave him a hug. “I’m sure he’s watching over all of you. You’ve been such a help to your mom. I don’t know what she’d do without you.”
Mark gave a rueful chuckle. “She’d hire another line cook.”
“And an assistant manager, and a stock manager, and a— You do a lot more than cook at the café.”
“I try.” His gaze returned to the flames, which were now crackling merrily. Mark used the poker to move the wood so the fire could breathe. When he finished, he replaced the poker and dusted off his hands. “There.”
There, indeed. She moved closer and held out her hands to the warmth. “Thank you.”
He pulled a large ottoman closer to the fire. “Sit here. You can put your feet toward the heat.”
She did so while he leaned with his elbow on the mantel, staring down into the flames. After a minute, he sent her a rueful smile. “Grandpa doesn’t like fires, does he? He says they are messy and aren’t worth the trouble. The second he left for Florida, Mom had the chimneys cleaned and put in a standing order for a cord of wood.”
“She’s pretty good at getting her way, even when she has to wait for it. It’s her greatest strength.” And probably her greatest weakness, too, Angela decided. She sent Mark a curious look. “What about you?”
He looked at her, surprised. “What about me?”
“All this talk about how Gray and Ella will never make it as a couple, and you haven’t once mentioned your own love life. You and Gray are both handsome and smart enough to attract high-quality partners, thanks to your excellent genes. Surely there’s at least one girl you’re interested in around here.”
Mark gave an awkward shrug. “I date some.”
“Some what?”
He burst out laughing. “Women. I just… I don’t know. Right now, Mom needs me. Once things settle for her and Gray, maybe I’ll get serious about that.”
Jules had been right when she’d said Mark felt too responsible for his brother and mother. Angela could see and hear it in everything he said and did. “Mark, you know I’m not one to criticize—”
He laughed and then looked self-conscious. “Sorry.”
“That’s fine. I have opinions. I’m not ashamed of that. But I worry about you. You’re living for your mother and brother, but it’s time to live for yourself. Go out, meet some people, have some fun.”
“You make it sound as if I’m just hanging around, twiddling my thumbs. I’m busy, you know that. If I met the right woman, I’d ask her out. I just haven’t met her yet.”
“The only way you could meet a woman is if she came into the café, climbed over the counter, and peeked around that huge order wheel your mom had installed.”
“Ha! I could meet someone from one of the farms we get produce from. Or downtown when I’m at the grocery store. I’m there about twenty times a week.”
“If you were looking, maybe. But you’re not. You’re waiting for your mom and Gray to get settled first. That’s not right for someone your age. You deserve someone of your own.”
“I deserve a grandmother who doesn’t hound me about my lack of dates.” When she opened her mouth again, he stopped her with an amused look. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but it’s not me. Mom and Gray both need me. I don’t mind that.”
“Gray does. If he heard you say that, he’d tell you to jump off a cliff.”
Mark reluctantly broke into a grin. “He would say exactly that. But only after he made fun of how I comb my hair or something equally lame. He—”
His phone rang and he dug it out of his pocket. “Hi, Mom. I just started a fire for Grandma. Yes, it’s nice. I—” He listened a moment. “Right now? Yes. Sure. I’ll call you when it’s done.” He hung up and made a face. “Mom’s laptop crashed. She needs me to do the payroll before five.”
“See? You’re the manager whether you have the title or not.”
He shrugged. “Do you need anything before I go upstairs and fire up my computer? It will take a while to get the payroll done.”
“No. I’m good here. Thank you.”
He headed upstairs, leaving Angela sitting on the ottoman in front of the crackling flames. She soaked in the warmth and realized that her headache had disappeared. Was it the heat or Mark’s reassurance that he wouldn’t tell his mother that Ella had been at the house? I shouldn’t encourage her children to lie to her. Good grandmothers didn’t do that. But good grandmothers and mothers never let their kids think they were dying, either.
Angela sighed, watching a green flame flicker among the orange and yellow ones. The day was coming when she would have to tell Jules the truth. I just need to find the courage. Oh, John, I hope you’re keeping an eye on me. I’m going to need all the help I can get.
CHAPTER 12 ELLA
The worst dish in the world is the one that’s been left unmade, untried, and untasted.
The Book of Cakes, p. 101
Written: 1792–2019
In her dream, Ella ran as hard as she could, her feet slapping the pavement, crunching through the dead leaves and small twigs that had fallen from the stark trees that loomed overhead. Oddly, this time she was wearing a ball gown of sorts, something white and gauzy, the long skirt catching at her running shoes as she tried to escape the horror that chased her.
Panting wildly, she looked over her shoulder. The huge cupcake thudded after her, the scent of strawberry thick in the air.
Her chest aching from the effort, she ran straight up Hill Street toward the Stewart house—only this time, she somehow knew that if she got there, she would be safe. Just ahead, a high line of shrubs towered, blocking the house from her view. If she could push through those bushes and make it inside, the cupcake couldn’t get her. Nothing could.
She struggled to reach the line of shrubs. The cupcake’s hot strawberry breath burned her as she sprinted. As she leapt over the curb toward the shrubs, her foot caught a stump and she tripped, catapulted forward with her hands outstretched. She was going to hit the ground in an ugly way, but at the last moment, strong arms caught her—
Gasping, she woke up, her blankets kicked off, a thick streak of strawberry icing across her forehead. It took a few minutes for her heart to slow down enough for her to breathe. That was the first time she’d sensed another person in one of her cupcake dreams. Before now, all she’d known was that when she reached the Stewart house, the cupcake would disappear. But to feel safe? What did that mean? Aunt Jo seemed to think Ella’s dreams would eventually tell her what she needed to do, but darned if Ella could figure them out.
Pressing a hand to her aching chest, she sat up and swung her feet to the floor. Would she ever have a normal night of sleep again? She leaned over and glanced at her phone where it sat on the nightstand. It wasn’t quite seven yet. Outside, the sky was just starting to glow, but the room was still dark. Ella picked up the damp washcloth she now kept beside her bed and wiped off the frosting. It was all so discouraging. She was doing everything she could to work her way through this. Angela seemed to be softening some, that was true. But Ella was still having her dreams, and they were getting more real, the swipes of strawberry frosting thicker and bigger.