These were the days I missed my wife. Running late for work and my daughter’s hair was a mess. I tugged a bit too hard on her curly and Ruby cried out.
“Daddy! That hurts.”
“Sorry, sweetie.”
For the hundredth time, I wished my wife was here. She’d know what to do with the riotous curls that our Ruby was blessed with. But Sarah hadn’t been here for two years. The amount of time since she’d died of the rare, aggressive form of cancer went by in a blur.
Ruby was only three when her mother passed and her memories grew fuzzier by the day. Not mine. I recalled every painful moment from the terrible doctor visit where we heard the news, through the valiant attempts to fight the disease with chemotherapy, and the last hours until my wife peacefully slipped away.
The past two years had been a blur of grief, childcare struggles, and single parenting. My friends thought I should start dating again but I laughed them off. My grief felt to raw still to consider getting back into the dating pool. Besides, no one wanted to date a single father. And I was fiercely protective of Ruby. Her little world had already been turned upside down. I didn’t want to stress her further.
“Are we done yet?” Ruby brought me back to reality as she wiggled in an attempt to escape my lousy hair dressing.
I glanced at her in the mirror we faced. Her curls were subdued, somewhat. Presentable enough for her to tag along to work with me today. Because of course her usually reliable babysitter had to come down with a bad cold and cancel last minute. No time to find a new sitter, so I had to drag Ruby to the wedding venue where I was scheduled to drop off the cake.
An avid baker since I could reach the kitchen counter, I’d turned my passion into a career. I’d had to scale back a bit since losing Sarah, so that I’d have time for Ruby. Which meant I now focused almost exclusively on special events rather than running a retail store. I’d also scaled back my staff so there was no one experienced enough to step in for me today.
Delivering a wedding cake was more than just setting it on a table. There were always elements that needed to be secured for travel and then added on site. In addition, today’s bride had requested fresh flowers included in my design so I needed to coordinate with the florist to secure the blooms. This was one of my more complex designs and I was planning to use the pictures on my website to draw more business.
While the wedding planner for Chateau Felicity vineyard gave me good business, it wasn’t enough to sustain a comfortable living. I needed to expand to other venues in the area and build up my portfolio of wedding specific cakes. I’d been very careful with the life insurance money and it had offered a buffer for the past two years, but as it ran out, I needed to step up my marketing.
I buckled Ruby in her booster seat in my catering van and said a silent prayer that today would go smoothly. Even after two years, I still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of successfully managing single fatherhood. I handed Ruby her milk and a sandwich bag of her favorite cereal. Breakfast on the go was better than no breakfast at all.
Ruby was engrossed in her story about what happened at kindergarten yesterday. She gestured wildly, threatening to send the cereal flying.
“Careful, sweetie,” I cautioned as I tugged the booster straps to ensure they were fastened correctly. Since Sarah had died, I found myself paying closer attention to any safety-related details.
“And, then she threw up,” Ruby concluded, once again gesturing broadly, this time with her milk.
The cover of the container slipped off and before I could intervene, milk went sailing across the backseat. I felt the cold splash of liquid on my pants and groaned. There was no time to change, which meant I would go through the day with wet pants.
“Oops,” Ruby said.
I couldn’t bring myself to be mad. After all, she was only five. “It’s ok, we can clean it up later.”
I made a mental note to swing by the car wash later and have the car detailed before the milk fully dried. Miraculously, Ruby hadn’t spilled a drop on herself. I supposed it was better that I took the brunt of the milk disaster as she would be uncomfortable in damp clothes for the day.
I did my best to dab at my pants with fast food napkins I found in the glovebox. It would have to do for now. Thankfully, I wouldn’t be seeing too many people today.
On the drive, I had to swerve to avoid a car that unexpectedly tried to merge into my lane. The coffee tilted in the cupholder, but thankfully stayed upright. The last thing I needed was coffee spilled on my pants along with milk.
The rest of the drive to Chateau Felicity winery was blessedly uneventful. I breathed a sigh of relief when I made the turn into the winding road that led through the vineyard to the large building that housed the tasting room and event space. This property always brought me a sense of peace. I was grateful that the Dupont family included me as a preferred vendor, which brought enough business to just keep my head above water.
I parked behind the building and came around to unbuckle Ruby. She’d finished her breakfast and was in good spirits. I opened the back doors to the van and nearly lost my own breakfast. The wedding cake had slid across the back and the top layer had slid nearly all the way off.
I bit back a curse as I surveyed the damage. It looked fixable with some effort. I came prepared to events with extra buttercream, fondant, and tools just in case. Occasionally small hiccups happen during delivery. This was the most extensive repair job I’d ever needed to do.
Ruby peered in the van. “I’ll help, Daddy,” she said.
My heart melted at her sweetness. “That’s ok. Daddy can fix it while you watch a show on your tablet.”
“We left my tablet at home.”
Oh no. I frantically searched the backseat of the car to confirm that Ruby was correct—we left the tablet and hadn’t brought any toys to distract her. Which meant I needed to both fix a cake with a time crunch and entertain my enthusiastic daughter.
This day was getting worse by the minute.