4

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

JULIAN CAREFULLY SPREAD icing on a two-tiered cake, his tongue sticking out a bit as he concentrated. The order for this birthday torte had come in last minute, shortly before closing time. Facing an evening free of commitments, he’d stayed late to finish the order. Dusk crept across the horizon through the back window, ushering in the night.

These quiet hours focusing on his work were some of Julian’s favorites. He enjoyed creating delicious art others could savor. And cakes were fun to make and decorate. He found pleasure and relaxation in doing these favors for others.

With precision, he covered the bare bits of cake with pink, ready to write a message on the top when there came a knock at the front door. It was too late for customers, so who could it be? He wiped his hands on a damp rag and moved aside the red curtain partitioning off the main room from his work area.

The knocking intensified, echoing through the empty cafe.

“Hold your horses,” Julian called out as he untied his apron and tossed it on the counter. “Geesh. I’ve been closed for hours.”

He pulled back the curtains to unlock the front door and his jaw dropped at who he saw.

There, underneath the soft glow of the street lamps stood Emily, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks tear-stained. Her blonde curls were frazzled and damp from the sprinkling rain. Shivering, she gripped at her shawl, her dress soaked at the hem.

“Emily.” He breathed out her name with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I need help,” she cried. “You’re the only one I can trust.”

Now, he hadn’t seen Emily in weeks, much less talked to her in months. Two, to be exact. She’d simply vanished one day shortly after their breakup and his only closure had come from a rumor that she’d run off with some Mexican. He didn’t want to let her in, but the gentleman in him stepped aside and let her pass.

“What’s wrong?” he asked without hesitation.

She stared up at him, lips quivering. “Can I have some tea?”

Julian blinked, thrown off by the strangeness of her question and the surprise of her arrival. “Yeah. Let me get the water boiling.”

There were times in Julian’s life when he wished to have eyes in the back of his head. This was such a moment. Instead, he contorted and stretched his neck in an effort to see what she was doing while she waited. He set the kettle to heat atop the woodstove and prepared a teabag stuffed with fresh mint while she cried softly at one of the tables. It concerned him that she should show up in such an emotional state. When he finished preparing the tea, he sat across from her noting the deep bags under her eyes and underslept frame of mind.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” He pressed. “You wanted nothing to do with me and now you pop back up like you never left.”

“You broke up with me, remember?” She sniffled and hovered her hand above the steaming mug of tea.

“That’s not how I recall it.”

“Does it matter now?” Emily swallowed hard. “I heard you’re getting married.”

Julian frowned. “In a week. Not necessarily who and what I had in mind but I made a deal with her pa.”

“Like a business arrangement?”

“Yeah. Except it’ll be for life.”

An awkward silence hovered between them. A warm, familiar sentiment stirred inside of him. He didn’t want it to be there. It had taken him entirely too long to forget about a romance with her and just as he was moving on—

Julian cleared his throat. “So why are you here?”

Emily licked her lips and pressed them together in deep thought.

A pause.

In a quiet voice, she said, “We need to talk.”

“No. We’re done. We’ve been done. You can’t just come back demanding things from me.”

But in her eyes, he noticed hurt and the pretty face he’d once loved bore the weight of trouble.

“You can’t marry this girl,” she said, raising her voice a little.

“And what gives you the right to—ugh. You know what? You broke my heart. Ripped it apart, actually.”

It was Emily’s turn to frown. “Things didn’t end the nicest between us, I admit. But you were just as guilty as I was with the way it all went down.”

“You ran off with the Mexican. Remember that?”

“Because you bedded me and stopped calling on me. What was I supposed to think after such abandon?”

He couldn’t handle the awkward. He didn’t want her anywhere close. She’d been shoved to the back of his head for peace of mind and now all of those darn feelings he hated dealing with were back, flooding to the center of his chest.

“It’s too late, Emily,” he said, wishing he’d never let her in. “I reckon it’s best we move on with our lives and never speak to one another again.”

“No.” She sobbed. “There’s something you need to know.”

And so she leaned into him, squeezed his hand, and whispered in his ear the last thing he ever wanted to hear.

 

***

 

“Can you please quit your wiggling?” Ma spoke with a pin clenched between her teeth, down on a knee as she hand sewed Willa’s wedding dress. “I can’t get the hem even with all your moving.”

“The lace itches,” Willa complained. “It’s uncomfortable.”

“If you don’t stop I’ll call your Pa in here.”

“And what’s he gonna do?”

Ma sighed frustratedly. “Nothing. Just like he always does.”

Willa ignored her mother and turned her attention to the peeling pink lacquer on her fingernails. She needed to keep her hands well manicured. There wasn’t a man alive that she knew who didn’t fancy a woman’s soft, feminine hands. Hers looked more like that of a rancher’s. A sharp prick at her ankle made her jump off the stool.

“Ow, mama! Could you be any more clumsy?”

Ma tossed her hands up in surrender. “Saints alive, child. You keep moving.”

“I was darn right still and you did that on purpose.”

“Shut your mouth and get back on that stool if you don’t want a crooked wedding dress a week from now.”

“Not if you’ll prick me again.”

“It was an accident.”

And that’s how their bickering always began, with the smallest of things provoking their mutual bitterness. Theirs was a relationship worse than any mother-daughter team Willa knew. She argued with her mother without ceasing, feeling the heat pooling in her cheeks and forehead from the risen anger. But louder than their voices came pa’s footsteps as he raced down the hallway and tore open the door to the study.

“What’s the matter with you two?” He stood in a huff, his button-up shirt half pulled out of his pants, tie slouched to the side, hair messy. All telling signs that he’d been working hard at taking a nap.

“Your child is an absolute brat,” Ma said and tossed a handful of lace on the floor. “I’m fixing myself up a brandy.”

“Right. Go on and use me as an excuse to drink some more,” Willa said, arms crossed tight. “All you do is lock yourself upstairs and suckle on the bottle.”

“Wilhelmina Grace Olson,” Pa raised his voice to stern. “Don’t disrespect your mother in such a fashion.”

“But I’m tired of her prickling me,” Willa argued.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Ma stomped to the door. “I won’t be carrying on fixing your dress if your ingratitude will continue to soar like an eagle.”

She shoved past pa and disappeared around the corner.

He narrowed his gaze at Willa. “When will you learn to thank your mother for giving you life?”

“Sometimes she just makes me so mad,” Willa said, knowing she better bite her tongue before she spoke too much.

“If you weren’t a young lady, I’d take a strap to that hiney of yours right now,” he said. “Go on and get out of that wedding dress before you stain it with your tears. I spent entirely way too much money on that stupid thing you’ll wear just once. For cryin’ out loud. Why didn’t God bless me with a son instead?”

He slammed the door.

Willa kicked the stool.

She couldn’t wait to get married. She wished the wedding were today.

“So irritating,” Willa whispered a thought about her mother as she changed back into her day frock.

If only Julian lived somewhere else other than Coal Valley then she could leave it all behind for good.

Why did she care about this town so much? The only friend she still had left was Hannah and her husband kept her busy with chores on their farm most days. Julian going into business with Pa also meant she’d never get peace away from her parents. They’d always be around, poking their noses into her affairs and slowly suffocating the life out of her.

She considered herself lucky to be marrying Julian. He was kind, handsome, and smart. They would do great things with the bakery. But she hated the fact that thanks to her pa’s arrangement, she couldn’t leave Coal Valley the way she had always dreamed.

“Gotta take the good with the bad, I suppose.”

Willa zipped up the back of her dress and neatly rested the wedding gown on the couch for when ma got herself together enough to continue sewing. She’d probably be drunk by the time she came back downstairs.

Patsy the maid opened the door. “Miss Willa, you have a visitor.”

“I’m not expecting anyone though.”

“It’s Mister Julian. You be wantin’ to see him, yes?”

Willa’s heart fluttered. “Yes! Err...yes. Wait—keep him at the door. No sense in him seeing the dress before the big day.”

Patsy nodded and winked. “You’re right. I’ll keep him waiting.”

When alone again, Willa paced the length of the room. Why did he make her so nervous? Oh, bother. She fanned her face with a piece of paper and ran to the front door to greet him. Still dressed in his white baker’s outfit, he carried a bouquet of wildflowers.

“Julian.” She smiled wide and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. “Are these for me? They’re so lovely.”

He shoved them in her face. “My pa used to say that flowers were the way to a woman’s heart.”

“You have a smart pa,” she said, sniffing the perfumed blossoms.

“Had.” His lips twitched. “Pa’s in heaven now.”

“I’m sorry.” She shifted awkwardly. “Um...hey, I’ll have Patsy put these in water and then we’ll—hold on. Did we have a date? I don’t recall...”

He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Sorry to intrude but I wanted to come see you. Figured maybe we could talk for a while.”

There was something different about him but she couldn’t gauge what. His normally cheerful and quiet demeanor seemed clouded over by something heavy, something gray.

“All right.” She took his hand. “I have just the place we can go to for privacy.”