“Breaking your heart?” Drew’s voice is gentle when he answers but his eyes tell a different story, there is a challenge behind them.
“Drew, he didn’t just break my heart by leaving, he shattered it. He ruined my life. Everything I thought my future was going to hold was stolen from me when he left me behind. I was thrown away like yesterday’s newspaper. You don’t do that to people you claim to love.”
“Take a look around, Daisy. To me it doesn’t seem like your life is all that ruined. You’re running the best damn cake shop in the state, doing something you love,” When I go to speak, he holds up a finger to me, silencing me so he could finish his lecture. “Don’t tell me you don’t love this place, this town and the crazy bunch of people who live here. Have you even given Ollie a chance to explain what happened when he joined the academy?”
“I think he said enough before he left, I don’t need to hear any more. Right now, Drew, I don’t need a lecture from you about your down on his luck brother. I know he’s had a tough time lately, what with losing his partner and what-not, but that is the only reason he came back. He, or you, for that matter, can’t think we’re just going to pick up where he left off. Not once did he come home in the past five years. Not once. This isn’t a God damn fairy-tale. I know he’s hurting, I can see it in his eyes every time I look at him but it isn’t up to me to fix him. He wasn’t here when I needed him to be and that means something. If you can’t rely on the people who love you then who can you rely on?”
Moving from the last table I leave Drew standing at the service area of the shop, seeking solitude in the kitchen. I needed a minute to myself; I needed to get my head on straight and for my heart to stop trying to break through my ribcage. Planting a bright smile on my face I grab the milk from the refrigerator and go to find Drew, still waiting but now sitting on the stool at the counter.
“I’m sorry, Dase. I didn’t mean to hurt you or dredge up the past. Ollie is hurting, you’re right but he’s my brother and I love him. I think you are the only person that can fix him, save him from the misery we’re all scared that will eat him alive. If you can’t forgive him, can you just give him a chance to explain, for your own sake if nothing else?”
“Coffee?”
“Sure.” Drew leaves with his and Luke’s morning tea and coffee while Oliver remains on the bench outside the shop, I watch him as I replay Drew’s words over in my head again. Where would I even start if I was even considering giving Oliver a chance? As if he feels me watching him Oliver’s eyes find mine. The smirk from earlier was gone, in its place, his mouth was set in a hard line as he pushed off from the seat, tucking his phone back into his pocket, he stalks with determination toward the front of the shop.
“Are you open for customers yet?” The look in his eyes catching me off guard, I’m only able to nod. No words would form on my tongue. Taking in the cake cabinet, he takes stock before placing his order. “Twenty, please. Five vanilla cream, five chocolate custard and ten cherry dream. Mini’s and I’m going to need some milk.” He was a smart man, I had to give him that, twenty mini cupcakes was not the sugar mountain that twenty full sized cupcakes would be. I should’ve known he would work out the loophole of the one hundred and fifty cupcake deal sooner or later. I couldn’t help the smile but I did make myself busy preparing his order so Oliver couldn’t see it. Setting down five different plates in front of him, he smiles, “You didn’t ask if they were takeaway.” I arch an eyebrow and shrug at him before going back to the kitchen for his litre of milk.
* * *
The lunch time rush comes and goes and still, Oliver is making his way through his twenty cupcakes. He’d eaten the first five in quick succession but the sixth to tenth one had taken him longer.
“More milk?” Picking up the empty carton and the used glass I wait for his answer.
“Thanks, that would be nice.” Oliver is on his last cupcake by the time the women from the book club start to arrive. Their curious glances between us almost have me laughing out loud. I can see the cogs in their mind start to turn and expect an interrogation once Oliver has left.
“You done?” Making myself busy I collect the empty dishes sitting in front of Oliver.
“Not nearly.” It was obvious from the look in Oliver’s eyes that he wasn’t referring to the plates as I was. The tone of his words held a connotation that had my body screaming for him to put into words what else he wanted to do. I felt like a fire had been lit inside me and I needed something to extinguish it immediately. Oliver wasn’t allowed to have that effect on me anymore, not from just a look or his words.
“With the plates, Oliver. Are. You. Done?”
“The plates, yes. You, I’m not.” The heat of Oliver’s hand envelopes mine as if a blanket of familiarity of our past.
“Oliver,” His name is a whisper across my lips, “You need to stop this. You don’t get to come here and think everything is going to be the same.” With shaking, clumsy hands the plates slip from my fingertips, falling to the ground before smashing and scattering in the broken pieces.
“Damn it.” Kneeling down, I gather as many of the larger pieces as I can, in an instant, Oliver is crouching down beside me.
“Here, let me help.” Oliver hands me one of the larger pieces I had missed.
“No. You don’t get to help. It is broken because of you.” Holding back the tears, I was no longer talking about the stupid plates.
“I’m sorry.” With my own hands full of the broken pieces of plates I feel the warmth of Oliver’s hand as he cups my cheek, his thumb wiping away the loose tear. “So sorry, Daisy Blossom.”
“Oliver, it’s too late,” I stand, “It’s just too late.” I repeat, before rushing back to the kitchen to dump the broken pieces of porcelain.
17
oLIVER
* * *
Cursing myself before digging my hands into the pockets of my jeans, I storm out of Sweet Nothing’s, any progress I thought I was making with Daisy had been set back because of my own selfish arrogance. I was a smug arsehole, thinking I could bully her into remembering how she had once loved me and that maybe she still did.
She was fragile and I had left her without any protection all those years ago. I had broken her and I couldn’t blame her for treating me with contempt. It was me that had unscrewed the lid to the jar from where all the butterflies had escaped. It was my doing that caused Daisy to resent me for leaving her and there was not a thing I could say to myself that would be convincing enough to fault her for that. I needed to stay of track with the plan, I needed to have the dinner Daisy had promised me as part of our deal. It was my only chance where I could have her attention captive, if I had learned anything from today, I couldn’t push her. Mum was right when she said I needed to be patient.
I run further today, restless energy consuming me, tomorrow was going to be Saturday and the thought of the hours I could spend at the shop were limited by the half day trading had me feeling a little on edge. I knew that sitting on the stool at the counter eating cupcakes until she had dinner with me couldn’t be the whole plan, it wouldn’t be enough. My feet continued to pummel the asphalt as I ran and the sweat soaked my back in a cold film, ideas running through my mind at the same speed as my feet hit the ground, some ideas ridiculous and some not quite there in stature. I press on, not wanting to return home until I have conjured at least some idea of what I needed to do to ease into the next step forward with Daisy.