They gathered around Gennie, cooing and praising her skill on the point of sale. I stepped aside to bag the jams for the blonde. I was almost finished when I sensed someone watching me.
“Hey,” I said to the one from the swing. Jaime. The best friend. “What can I get you?”
She tipped her head to the side, an order to step away from the others. “A word, if you please.”
I slid the paper bag across the table and then joined Jaime in the empty space between stalls. I glanced back at Shay and Gennie but they were in the thick of a story and didn’t notice.
“Hi. You don’t know me. Or I’m guessing you don’t since our girl has been playing fast and loose with the details these days.” She held out her hand. “I’m Jaime Rouselle. I taught first grade next to Shay for six years until she embarked upon this fantastic voyage. In addition to being her best friend and coteacher, I’m also in very deep with an assortment of unsavories. You know what I’m talking about. Motorcycle gangs, mafia. And then there’s the worst of them—” She leaned in close. “Private equity guys.”
She was right about private equity guys being worse than any mafia on the planet but I still had to fight off a laugh. “You have my attention.”
“As I imagine you’re aware, our girl’s birthday is coming up.” She raised an eyebrow. I nodded. It hadn’t crossed my mind but yeah, I knew Shay’s birthday was next month. “I’m going to give you precise directions. I expect you to follow those directions without deviation. If you do not—and I’ll be checking—I’ll rain hell upon your bread and jam. You got me?”
Again, I had to fight off a laugh because this pocket-sized woman who could easily pass as a high schooler was threatening me with—with biker gangs? And finance bros? What was happening here?
“I think I follow, yeah. What do you need me to do for Shay’s birthday?”
She stared at me for a beat, as if she wasn’t convinced of my fealty. Then, “She loves vanilla cake. The cake mix kind, from the box. And chocolate buttercream frosting but not the ready-made frosting. Homemade only. Butter, sugar, cocoa. That kind. She loves family dinner birthday parties but she’ll never say that out loud. She won’t ask for it and if you try to find out what she wants, she’ll swear up and down she wants nothing. All she has ever wanted is a family and the regular old things that come with families. Cake mix from the grocery store. Family around the kitchen table.” She wagged a warning finger at me. “Do not fuck this up. Her birthday is in the middle of the week this year and there’s no way I can get down here in time to pull it off. She cannot handle another disappointment so I need you to swear to me you’ll get this right.”
It never occurred to me that Shay wanted to belong to a family but it made complete sense. I couldn’t believe I’d missed that. I guess I’d been busy assuming she had everything she could ever want. “And why are you askingmeto do this?”
She gave me a look that must scare the shit out of her students. “You know why, Mr. Just Dropping By With a Freshly Baked Loaf of Carby Goodness.”
“I really don’t.”
She nodded slowly. “So, that’s the game? Pretend you don’t care? How’s it working out for you?”
I glanced over at the kombucha crew. When I didn’t respond, she went on.
“Yeah. Just as I thought.”
“What did you mean about Shay not being able to handle another disappointment?”
“James,” Grace called. “Get over here.”
Jaime held up her hand in acknowledgement. “I said what I said. Don’t fuck this up. I can end you.”
“I can pull off a birthday dinner and cake.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, you can.”
“Noah,” Gennie yelled. It was like a battle cry. The same one she employed when she couldn’t find any socks and believed it was faster to yell than open her sock drawer. “Which bread am I supposed to give Shay?”
My niece held up the two paper-wrapped loaves I’d set aside first thing this morning while Jaime swallowed her laugh with a sip of coffee. “Don’t try to be smooth,” she said. “Kids will shut it down before it even starts. This munchkin will kill your game.”
With a parting glance for Jaime, I moved back behind the table and relieved Gennie of the bread in question. To Shay, I said, “These are our most popular. Give ’em a try.”
“Oh.” She blinked at me. “Oh, thank you.” She reached into her bag and retrieved her wallet. “What do I owe you?”
“What did I tell you about that? Not when you’re with me.” I handed over the loaves.
Her brow wrinkled as she accepted the bread. “That’s really nice of you.”
She held my gaze for a long moment. Her expression seemed to say she was confused and that made two of us. I shrugged because it was all I could do to keep myself from babbling and making it much worse.
“Do you need any jam to go with that?” my niece asked. “We have some apricot carmumum.”
“Cardamon,” I said.
