As we merged back into traffic, I pulled my phone from my pocket, trying to use it as a buffer from this conversation. “It’s okay for you to have a life too. Isla will understand. Hell, she’d probably love a little bit of female attention.”
“I’m doing the best I can,” I growled, hoping Franklin would take the hint and shut the fuck up. But if anyone was going to push this, it was him.
“No one’s saying you’re not. But there’s going to come a point, and as much as you don’t want to hear it, when Isla starts asking questions about her mom. Have you figured out what you are going to tell her then?”
If he wasn’t driving, I’d ram my fist into his face and break his pretty nose. This wasn’t a discussion I was having.
“Just drive,” I warned.
Thankfully, Franklin dropped it, leaving me to sit and stew on his words, words that wouldn’t have cut so deep if there wasn’t so much truth in what he was saying. That’s the bit that really stung. Isla had already started asking questions about her mom and I could only imagine it was going to get worse the older she got. I wanted to give Isla the world. Everything she could ever want, I wanted to be the one to give it to her, but a mother wasn’t something you could just pick up at the corner store.
When a call came through, we changed direction and I was forced to focus on the job ahead. A motor vehicle accident could mean any number of problems so I needed to be on my toes not trying to come up with a picture of what my life, our life could be, with Charlotte in it.
I was heading home after my shift, grateful I’d finished early enough I’d still be able to tuck Isla in tonight, when I passed a bakery with all its lights still on. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but at the next set of lights, I was turning around and going back. Parking out the front, I ducked inside.
Pink.
Everything was pink.
It was like pink exploded and touched every surface. Icing on the Cake was empty, only me and the cute woman behind the counter with her pink polka dot apron tied in a bow around her waist. The jingling of the bells as I walked in, cut off her dance mid sway as she pasted on her best customer service smile.
“Good afternoon and welcome to Icing on the Cake.”
“Hi.”
“What can I get for you?”
Eyeing the almost empty display cabinets, I decided this had been a dumb idea. Me being here was a dumb idea. But I couldn’t just walk out without buying anything.
“Um … can I grab one of those,” I pointed to a cupcake with more icing than a cake covered in shimmery sparkles, “and, one of those things …”
“A chocolate brownie?”
“Yeah, that looks good.”
“Great! Anything else?”
I guess I was already here … “Macarons? Do you have those?” I didn’t even know what the hell a macaron looked liked.
“We do. We only have a few flavors left though. Do you know what you’re after? I still have a couple of salted caramel, red velvet, cheesecake, gingerbread …”
“Pistachio?” I asked, cutting her off.
“Let me check.” Walking along behind the counter she stopped behind a sad-looking display case with a bunch of cookie things lined up. Well, I guess they were supposed to be lined up. The issue was, most of the lines look like they’d been attacked and only the strong survived.
“We have pistachio.”
“Great! I’ll take them.”
“How many were you after? You can get a pack of six, twelve, or twenty. And you can mix and match your flavors …”
I was starting to panic. All I wanted was some damn pistachio macarons not to face the Spanish inquisition. “Six please. All pistachio,” I spat out quickly, hoping the questions would end.
“No worries. Let me box them up for you,” she replied with a wide smile full of perfectly straight white teeth.
Five minutes later, I was back in my car and heading home, thinking that was way too much stress. I hoped Charlotte appreciated it. That is, if I found the balls to even give them to her. But if she didn’t, Isla would certainly love a surprise cupcake. A sweet treat never went astray, and my girl was no different.
Those damn macarons were doing my head in. Sitting in the front seat of my car all morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. When it came time to take my lunch break, I took off like someone lit my ass on fire to deliver them.
