Red put the skates on the bench in the mudroom and headed back to the recliner like nothing at all was wrong.
“I messed up so bad,” Benny said, following him.
“Oh, I don’t know, Benny-bean. You tried, I guess.”
Benny eyed him. “You’re not mad at me?”
“Let’s just say I see the merit in the idea. And I gotta hand it to you and that little girlfriend of yours—you want something, you try to make it happen.”
Benny smiled weakly. “So you’ll still be Santa?”
“Maybe.”
Which Benny knew meant yes. “Do you think this might work?”
He shrugged. “You got them talking, so that’s not a bad thing. Now she’s off to see him. Who knows? You put something in motion.”
Newt came over looking for love, which he got from Benny. Red gave him part of a biscotti. And then they finished the crossword puzzle together, which made it a pretty darn perfect Saturday.
The cold caught at the back of Gracie’s throat the second she stepped out of the bakery van, but the sun was high and blindingly bright. Wind buffeted the “Reserved for Sugarfall Bakery” sign on the brick wall behind her shop as she hugged her coat tighter and unlocked the back door.
It led her into the kitchen, which was bustling under the care of her store manager, Amanda Thackery. She glanced around, checking out the pie station, the cakes, and a tray of dreamy Christmas cookies just out of the oven, the familiar and comforting scents of butter, cinnamon and sweet pastry crust greeting her.
Even that comfort wasn’t enough to wipe away the cocktail of emotions that had her reeling this morning.
Not one of those emotions was anger, though. She never got truly mad at Benny, even on the rare occasions when she should. The child could engineer a backyard rocket launch and light her rosemary bush on fire, and all she’d feel was pride for the flawless trajectory and gratitude that Red kept a hose handy.
Maybe she should be mad about this ruse he and Olivia had cooked up to make a match where one would likely never be.
She stood for a moment in the kitchen, hearing the hiss of the espresso machine, the soft thud of the proofer door closing in the back. With her coat still on, she walked through her little domain, greeting the two bakers on duty, and seeing Amanda hustling at the front counter.
Was the case down? Were the cream puffs selling? Did Benny want a father that badly?
The thought was a needle running through all other thoughts, stabbing and a little painful.
Of course he did.Of course he did.She wasn’t oblivious—she’d seen his face when his friends talked about their dads at school functions, the way he gravitated to Red like a planet around the sun. She’d made a life for him that was calm and safe and sweet, but it was a life without a father.
She’d only had her own father until she was thirty, and in those far too short years, he’d left such an imprint on her. One of the things George McBride showed her was how a man should act, and that had formed her. Benny didn’t have a father or a grandfather to teach him.
Yes, he had Red—but for how long? Red was eighty-three! He’d be in his nineties when Benny was navigating the challenges of being a young man.
She slipped into her back office, delaying the trip across the street as long as possible.
What was she going to say, anyway? Gee, we can’t do this because our kidsorchestratedit?
Benny and Olivia had been stunningly…effective. She could almost admire the scheme, from a logistical standpoint. The setup was absurd, yes, but also tidy—Red would skate as Grumpy Santa, she and Marshall would collaborate on the gingerbread house.
Brilliant? Well, it was from the brains of Olivia and Benny. How could it be anything but brilliant?
But it was wrong. The meddling, the strings, the pressure. She inhaled and let the exhale firm her spine, clicking her computer to life for a distraction, hoping for a little crisis in her email that would further delay the inevitable.
There was none.
With a grunt, she pushed the chair back and walked through the bakery—which really wasn’t as crowded as she’d expected it to be.
“Be right back,” she called to Amanda, who waved and continued rearranging the muffin display case.
Her heart rate increased with each step across the street. She pulled open the door and instantly noticed a distinctly different aroma inside Craving Clean. It was…pure. Light. Salty fresh with no pesky…sugar.
