Beauty:You’re just showering me with compliments today, aren’t you?
Me:There’s more where that came from, if you’re interested.
Beauty:I’m outta here. See ya later. Peace.
I grinned and slid my phone into my purse.
I really did luck out with him, didn’t I?
18. He’s Learning
Itook the baking tray out of the oven, placed it on the brand-new counter, and plated myBolo de Fubábefore slicing a couple pieces of it. I then put the empty tray in the sink, and grabbed my Polaroid camera before taking a picture of my cake.
It was officially December, which meant it was time for my everyday baking tradition. I liked to make something new each day, up until Christmas, and I usually started with a Brazilian classic,Bolo de Fubá. It was simple and flavorful, and really helped in boosting my spirits.
I pulled out four serving plates, put two pieces ofBolo de Fubáin each of them, kept the rest of it in the refrigeratorforAvô, sent him a text over the same, and grabbed a small notebook and pen from the coffee table before heading up to the storeroom. When I reached it, I knocked on the door, and smiled when Taron opened it a few seconds later. Him and the others were wearing caps, and they also had masks on to protect themselves from the dust. And let me tell you, that room was dusty asfuck.
Myles had told me that clearing up the storeroom would take at least two days, and oncethatwas done, it would take a little less than a week to sand and prime the chipped walls for the tiling process. And that was just the beginning; turning the storeroom into a mini library would take longer than him and Taron had anticipated.
Not that I minded…
“Hey, Carina. What’s up?” Taron asked around a smile.
The five of us had ordered takeout and had lunch together an hour ago, and then Myles had left, saying he had something he needed to do.
Him and the others had been on a weeklong vacation since Thanksgiving.Avôand I didn’t celebrate it; it was one ofMãe’sfavorite times of the year. And so, the two of us had spent the day browsing Netflix and watching absolutely nothing.
And also, hardly speaking to each other unless necessary.
I knewAvôwas giving me space – to get over my Myles-high and come to my senses, most probably – but it was starting to get on my nerves. I wanted to be able to talk to him like we always have, but he’s blocked me out so adamantly that I don’t know how to get through to him.
And, because I was just as stubborn as him, I’d decided to give him space so thathecould come tohissenses and realize that what I felt for Myles wasn’t just a rush or infatuation, but something else entirely.
When I’d seen Myles in person earlier, after days of us interacting through text and video calls, I’d felt a sense of relief that I wasn’t sure was even possible for me to experience. It was intense – what he did to me – like a roaring wave of something indescribable, yet inevitable.
I let go of a breath and began writing in my notebook, and once I was done, I flipped it around for Taron to see.
I baked something for everyone.
Paul and Greg shoved a couple of small boxes into a massive trash bag, and then moved onto a larger one to the right.
“You didn’t have to, Carina,” Taron said. Myles was right; he really did look like a lumberjack with the way he dressed: jeans, a flannel, and brown work boots.
I bake for almost the entire month of December. It’s a tradition of mine.
He chuckled. “Well, lucky us, then. So, what’ve you got for us today?”
Bolo de Fubá. There’s a plate in the kitchen for each of you.
Taron leaned against the doorframe. “Thanks, Carina, I’ll get them in a bit. We have to trash these boxes, but we can take a break after that.”
I grinned and gave him a thumbs up.
Don’t forget to gargle and wash your hands before eating.
He gave me a two-finger salute. “You got it.”
Where’s Myles?
