Poppy nodded sagely. “Ah yes, wise words. There’s nothing more soothing than something yummy when the world feels upside-down. Your grandmother and I used to have a ritual with lemon pound cake.”
“Really? I didn’t know about that.”
“I might be an open book but there are a few chapters you haven’t read, missy.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “When one of us had a hard day the other would head for the kitchen to whip up the ‘when life gives you lemons’ poundcake. We always kept the ingredients on hand. After a lifetime of ups and downs we both knew how to make it with our eyes closed.”
His face relaxed for a moment as he seemed to conjure up the memory more fully.
I felt an ache for him, because I knew that even after all of these years, he still missed my grandmother like he’d just lost her.
“It was as if just the aroma of that cake in the oven could wipe out the worst feelings. It was hard to be angry about a traffic jam, or a jackass boss with the sweet smell of cake in the air. So after a while I felt like Pavlov’s dog any time I smelled lemons.”
“Hey, if you still remember the recipe, maybe you could give it to me and I’ll try to make it.” How hard could it be to throw a bunch of ingredients together and bake it in the oven; especially since I had a working oven now in a brand new shiny kitchen.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think you might be better off with these chocolate cakes.”
I shook my head, eager to distance myself from all things Drew. “No, that cake is for you.”
He winked at me. “Not exactly. Come with me.”
Poppy shuffled to the door and I had no choice but to follow him.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Would you just hush up and walk? You’re ruining everything!”
He led me down the hallway and into the community ballroom where a team of kitchen staff were busy slicing up a dozen cakes.
“Wait, seriously? These are all from …” I trailed off because the answer was obvious.
“Welcome to Cake Friday!” Poppy exclaimed. “Thatfriendof yours,” he said the word like it was an inside joke, “is having cakes sent every week from now on! And not just the chocolate, because I told him that my friend Edith doesn’t like chocolate. So he sent a coconut and a vanilla as well. Whatta guy!”
“Wait, you told him about Edith? When?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I have a life and a right to talk to my own friends, you know.”
“He’s not your friend,” I scolded. He wasn’t mine either… not anymore.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he replied. “Now, come with me. There’s more.”
I was used to him issuing orders and following along with no questions asked, but this time around I felt like I deserved to know what was up.
“Poppy, come on. Stop being so mysterious and tell me what’s going on. This is my life you’re messing with.”
He didn’t answer me until we were in a quiet reading room. Of all of the bland beige retirement homes we’d toured I felt lucky that we’d made it into Forrest Glenn, because it had magical little spots like this one, which felt like a library in an old castle.
“Now you keep your mouth closed and listen to me, got it?”
It was his serious tone so I had no choice but to silently nod my head.
“I hope you know how proud I am of you,” he began.
I nodded again.
“I’m especially proud that you learned how to stand up for yourself and ask for what you want out of a relationship.”
“Howdo you know this?” I asked, confused. We rarely talked about my love life.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I have my ways. Now as I was saying, you learned how to stand up for yourself and get what you need, and that’s definitely a good thing. But I also worry that now you’ve taken it so far that you’re closed off to true happiness. Because I can tell you firsthand that love is beautiful, but there are moments when it’s as ugly as last week’s garbage. It doesn’t mean your love is flawed—it just means that you and your person are human. You’re gonna hit bumps in the road, and obstacles, but if you believe in what you’ve built with the other person, you’ll fight your way through them. That’s what your grandmother and I did.”
