LIZZIE and Rake had done the unthinkable: They’d fucked each other out of their systems.
Which was awesome.
SO. GREAT.
Because, no, Lizzie didn’t walk around constantly hoping Rake would touch her. And no, she didn’t stay up all hours of the night wondering what he would do if she made a move.
None of that on her end! Nope! They couldn’t be more platonic.
And if Lizzie was maybe feeling a little bit of pining/horniness, she channeled all that energy into her baking. Bernadette’s online sales of erotic pastries were booming, and they’d recently introduced some of the tamer pieces to the pastry display case. What neither Bernadette nor Lizzie expected was for a local reporter to catch wind of their shop filled with tuile tacos filled suggestively with fruit and butt-shaped cookies with intricate frosting lingerie and run a story on them that spread like wildfire on Twitter. The resulting daily lines to get into the shop sucked up most of Lizzie’s focus, and she thrived on the success of their creations.
She was also gaining momentum in her work to manage her ADHD. Lizzie was learning that making to-do lists into cartoons and pictures made her brain hum with excitement to get started, and she was successfully keeping a notebook and crossing things off her list. She’d also found a surprising type of fun in timing herself on tasks and learning her patterns, creating a routine that accommodated her habits instead of forcing her to do things the “right” way.
And Bernadette, quirky angel of graciousness that she was, encouraged Lizzie through it all, working with her to find a flow for the shop that allowed them both to thrive.
The progress wasn’t linear and the process was far from easy, but it felt undeniably good to learn herself. Nurture her brain instead of rewire it.
Lizzie’s phone rang as she walked to her apartment from the subway stop, Mary’s name lighting up the screen.
“Hi, Mary,” Lizzie said as she picked up the call.
“Lizzie! How are you?” Mary had a voice like Snow White, and Lizzie had, more than once, hinted that she should narrate children’s audiobooks.
“Hanging in there. How about you?”
“Good, good. Just finalizing some stuff for the big bash,” Mary said, referring to the anniversary party for Lizzie’s parents that was two days away. “Wanted to check in on the cake and make sure you didn’t need anything from me.”
“Nope, all good,” Lizzie said, stopping in front of her building and leaning against the rough stone to finish the call. “I finished building it today and I’ll put the final decorations on it tomorrow before I drive up.”
Mary had requested a minimalistic three-layer cake, and Lizzie was going with the popular semi-naked frosting look with sprigs of flowers and clusters of fresh fruit. She was also desperately nervous that her mom would absolutely fucking hate it.
“Are you bringing anyone to the party?” Mary asked, catching Lizzie completely off guard.
“I, uh, I hadn’t thought about it. Am I allowed?”
Mary giggled. “Of course you’re allowed, Lizzie. I’ll put you down with a plus-one.”
“I—well—I—”
“Sorry, Lizzie, I have to run. Call me or Ry if you have any issues. We’ll see you tomorrow at your parents’ for dinner, right?”
“Uhh.”
“Great! See you then.” Mary hung up the call.
Lizzie pressed the back of her head against the building, staring up at the sky. Fuckkkkkkk.
Should she bring Rake? On one hand, he was so put together and competent and beautiful that he might distract from the inevitable evaluation of Lizzie’s shortcomings from her mother. But on the other hand, did she really want to subject him to the passive-aggressive contempt that Claire Blake had spent a lifetime gorgeously perfecting?
She decided she’d paint Rake a very realistic portrait of what the weekend had in store and let him decide.
Rake’s laugh greeted Lizzie as she walked through the door. Padding into the apartment, she found him on the couch with his laptop, smiling at the screen. He turned that smile on her, and her body ached with how adorable he was.
In a totally platonic way, of course.
“Hold on just a second, Mum,” Rake said, looking back at the screen. He clicked a few times then turned again to Lizzie. “I’m video chatting with my parents if you’d like to meet them. No pressure,” he said.
Lizzie broke out in a cold sweat. She’d never met a guy’s parents before. She knew as an inherent fact that she was not the kind of girl a mom would be happy to see her son with.
“Won’t they hear me say no?” Lizzie whispered, shooting a nervous glance at the laptop.
“I muted it,” Rake said, giving her a bemused look. “But I think you’ll really like them.”
Lizzie didn’t doubt that for a second. It was a rarity for her to meet someone she didn’t instantly find something to like, and anyone who’d had a hand in making Rake was undoubtedly a perfect sunbeam of a person.
Rake was studying Lizzie closely, as if he were seeing her inner turmoil like words written across her skin. “And I have no doubt they’ll adore you,” he said, scooting over on the couch and patting the seat.
Lizzie looked at him for a moment then gathered some courage, moving to sit next to him. “Do they know about le bébé?” Lizzie asked, halting his hand from unmuting them.
“Of course,” Rake said. “Mum texts me almost daily to ask how you’re doing. She’s been dying to meet you, I think.”
“Cool cool cool cool cool,” Lizzie said, her leg starting to bounce. Rake gave it a gentle squeeze then turned the video back on.
“Mum, Dad, I’d like to finally introduce you to Lizzie.”
There was a racket of noise as a jolly middle-aged couple on the screen leaned in and started speaking over each other, the commotion sounding like sunshine and softness.
“Shut it, Peter. Let me go first,” the woman said, shooting a scolding look at the man before turning back to the screen. “Oh, you darling girl, it’s so nice to finally put a face to a name. I’m Leanne, Rake’s mum. He’s been telling us so many things about you.”
Lizzie shot Rake a horrified glance, and Leanne and Peter let out a hearty chuckle.
“Wonderful things, I assure you,” Leanne said, still grinning at the camera.
“And I’m Peter,” Rake’s dad said, waving at the camera.
Lizzie waved back, a genuine smile breaking across her face. “It’s so great to meet you.”
Peter and Leanne launched into conversation, asking Lizzie about the pregnancy and how she was feeling before shifting to questions about her baking. They cackled with laughter when Lizzie hesitantly explained the erotic pastry side business Bernadette had originally hired her for.
“What I wouldn’t give to take a bite out of one of your delicious arses,” Leanne said, clapping with glee. “What a riot.”
“You should come visit!” Lizzie said without thinking. Rake shot her a surprised glance, the corners of his mouth kicking up in a soft smile.
Leanne and Peter were quiet for a moment, looking at her. “You wouldn’t mind?” Leanne asked at last. “Because we’d absolutely love to make the trip. Obviously, we’ll wait until you feel settled, and we’d hate to be a bother with a baby on the way, but—”
“I’d love to meet you in person,” Lizzie said, meaning it.
“Well,” Leanne said, she and Peter glancing at each other softly before beaming into the camera. “We won’t take up any more of your time,” Leanne added, flapping her hand toward the camera. “Rake, you take good care of her.”
“Of course,” Rake said, waving. “I’ll talk to you soon.” After a few more seconds of prolonged goodbyes, Rake shut his laptop.
“I know they’re a lot,” he said, turning to Lizzie, “but—”
“They’re wonderful,” Lizzie said, nestling deeper into the couch. “Which makes what I’m about to ask you suck even more.”
Rake’s smile dropped. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
Lizzie huffed out a laugh. “I have to drive up to my parents’ this weekend. It’s their anniversary, and my brother and his wife have organized this big bash. I’m making the cake.”
“And?” Rake prompted after a moment.
“Andddd,” Lizzie said, plucking at the couch. “My sister-in-law said I could bring someone if I want, and I should probably check in with my mom and she’ll probably say no, but if you want—I mean, if you’d be interested in getting out of the city and maybe—”
“Of course I’ll go with you, Birdy,” Rake said, getting up and moving to the kitchen. “Just let me know what time we need to leave and what I should pack. I’m excited to meet your family.”
“Oooh, I’m gonna stop you right there, buddy,” Lizzie said, sitting up on her knees and turning to watch him over the back of the couch. “This will not be a joyous Family Stone lovefest. This will be a stuffy and passive-aggressive weekend, to say the least. And if they find out I’m pregnant … God save us.”
“You haven’t told them?”
“No. I don’t tell my family anything if I can help it.”
Rake looked at her, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter. “If you’re dreading it so much, why go?”
“Because some things you have to do. Suffer in the name of character development or whatever.” Rake opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. “I really better check with Queen Claire Blake that it’s even okay I bring you.”
Lizzie scrolled through her phone then made the call, putting it on speaker so she could simultaneously flip through Instagram on her phone. It felt impossible for her to focus solely on a conversation. It also helped to lessen the blow of her mom’s harshness if she was slightly distracted by pretty pictures.
“Blake residence,” Claire’s refined voice answered, and Lizzie’s spine stiffened.
“Hey, Mom.” The line filled with silence, and Lizzie hoped for a second that the call had magically disconnected.
“Elizabeth. How are you?”
Pregnant. Confused. A tiny bit scared.
“I’m fine!” Silence. “I got a new job.”
Her mom made a small humming sound, innocuous to an untrained ear, but Lizzie knew it as the soundtrack for disapproval.
“Another new job. Congratulations.”
Rake frowned down at the phone, but Lizzie waved a hand to get his attention and smiled. It’s okay. This is our talks going well.
“Did Mary tell you I’m making the cake for your party?” Lizzie asked, hating how the pitch of her voice reached a new octave.
“She did.”
“I, er, I think it’s going to be really nice! Mary picked a very tasteful design. I think you’ll like it.”
“Oh, wonderful. I’m sure it will be lovely,” Claire said, not sounding sure at all. “Even though your father doesn’t indulge in sweets…”
“Oh. Yeah. I forgot. Well … I don’t know. Hopefully you like it. Or Mary at least.” Lizzie rested her palms flat on the back of the couch, lowering her head to bang it softly against her hands a few times. Claire remained silent.
“I’ve … There’s a new person in my life,” Lizzie blurted out. She still hadn’t decided on what label to use for Rake. Baby daddy was the most accurate, but she might send her mom into a tailspin with that phrasing.
Her mom hummed again, the noise sounding like grating steel and disapproval.
“I’d like to bring him. To the anniversary party, I mean.” Lizzie glanced over at Rake, and he nodded, a soft smile on his lips.
“Is that so? It’s only supposed to be for family and our close friends.”
“Well … uh … he’s like family to me,” Lizzie said honestly. “I’d like for you to get to know him.” Maybe when you see the gorgeous, wonderfully starchy father of my future child who keeps his hair well trimmed and carefully folds his underwear, you won’t judge me as harshly.
The silence lingered, making Lizzie squirm.
“Well, we’d be happy to host him,” her mother said at last, sounding resigned.
“Yeah?” A wary voice in Lizzie’s head told her not to get excited, not to even go to the damn thing. But she couldn’t extinguish the small starburst of happiness in her chest. Just like that, she was a girl again, desperate for a bond with her mom.
“We’ll see you tomorrow. Please dress appropriately.”
“So is that a yes or a no to titty tassels?” Lizzie asked, snickering.
Claire let out a sigh. “Goodbye, Elizabeth.” She hung up.