My mouth dropped open. “But I don’t even know Gigi ...”
“Girl, I’ve been singing your praises. She’s desperate to meet you,” Hunnie said, shoving the box toward me.
Gingerly, I opened it up and took in the perfectly crafted cupcake covered in a khaki-colored icing and dusted with gold and pink sugar. “Wow.”
“Look how it matches your nail polish,” Hunnie said, staring at my hand holding the delicacy housed in a shimmery box before going back to her seat.
“Yes, it does. I put on this shade this morning while finishing the book I’m reading ...To See You. I thought it went well with the cover, especially the pink accent color.”
I closed my eyes as an idea came to mind.Nails, books, cupcakes, coffee ... was there anything better? No.
“Earth to Murphy?” Hunnie raised her voice, drawing me out of my musings.
Opening my eyes, I sighed. “Sorry, I just had an idea for Zara. Must be the Vermont air. I’m a creative busy bee here.”
Hunnie smiled. “Maybe it’s because you’re happy. You know, really happy? You look happy.”
“Maybe,” I said cautiously. “How would you know?”
“I know,” she said. “Because for a few years after high school, I was really unhappy. Stuck here in Vermont, wanting to do something like Ben did, or the few others who got out for a while. Then one day, I was sick with the flu and stuck here in my shed. My mom made me soup, and tea with honey. Ben’s mom dropped off fresh cinnamon-maple rolls, and other neighbors stopped by to check on me. When I was finally better and able to get up and see the crisp blue sky ... well, I knew. This was a place to be happy. To be grateful, content, and not want for more.”
Hunnie’s eyes glistened with emotion but she smiled the whole time she spoke. All I could think was she had her shit together in a way I wasn’t sure I ever would.
“I get it,” I said, staring at my hands, “but honestly, I don’t think I even know what happy is. For most of my life I was told what I needed to do to make everyone else happy, but my own happiness was at the bottom of the list.”
“I don’t get that,” she said with a huff. “At all. It’s not that I don’t believe you, but I can’t wrap my head around it.”
I shrugged. “It’s impossible to get. It’s just the way it is. But I’m here now and trying to break free of it all. It’s hard, a lot harder than I thought. I will admit this idea I just had makes me happy-ish.”
Hunnie held up her hand. “Then go with it, but don’t tell me until you tell Zara.”
“Deal,” I said with a smile.
Hunnie stared at me. “God, you truly are stunning. I can see why Ben can’t let go. You know, I remember his mom going on about you. ‘He’s hung up on this Murphy girl. Mopes around about her every time he’s home.’”
“Oh God,” I said, leaning my head back against the chair. “It was a bad time in my life.”
“His too. He didn’t want to go on that scholarship. His dad nearly forced him out the door. It was good, though, he needed it. Total mama’s boy. Now he’s all about Branson and work and more work. You know about ... never mind.”
Hunnie looked away for a second. There was a story she wasn’t telling me, but since I didn’t want to spill all my secrets, I didn’t push.
“Anyway,” she said, “tell me what Ben was going on about. Your idea?” She stood and went back to her blackberries, lifting the jar to smell them.
Getting up too, I paced. “It’s just something I thought of. Back in New York, they had these straws filled with honey. Yes, I know, not environmentally friendly, but so pretty and perfect individual servings. Your infusions would look gorgeous in them. I envisioned them at parties or little gift shops ... shoot, I’m going to kill Ben for telling you.”
Leaving her fruit, Hunnie turned and clapped. “Yes. Girl. Yes. We need some samples. Do you have someone in New York who can send them?”
Not wanting to reach out to anyone from my former life, I said, “I’ll call one of the stores who carried them and ask.”
“I’ll reimburse you. This is part of your intern responsibilities,” she said with another wink. “We’re back to work now. Can’t be all play. After I see the samples, I can think of manufacturers. Now, go home and eat your cupcake, and please, please, go in and meet Gigi. You’re a genius, and she wants to meet you.”
“I don’t know about genius. Maybe only here in the middle of Vermont.”
“You’re somebody, Murphy. Here, there, anywhere ... you’re gonna do great things.”
I scrunched up my face in thought. “Isn’t that Dr. Seuss?”
Hunnie laughed. “I know, but it’s also the truth. Now, scat and write a post on my weekend special ... call it blackberry-pie honey. I love the sound of that. Right? I may have to make it a regular thing.”
