Why does he always hide behind a brooding face and shadowed eyes when he can dothis?
I’m still watching him interact with the kids, a faint smile on my face, when I spot the familiar salt-and-pepper gray hair of Landon’s father across the room. My excitement fades as our eyes lock, and I watch the confusion register on his face before I look away. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s wondering what the hell I’m doing here. When he starts walking toward me, I mentally debate what to do, where to go, what to say. Luckily, a savior in the form of a teenage boy with a skateboard comes out of nowhere.
“Hey, Violet,” Parker says. “I think I’m up next.”
I turn my back to the approaching Blair and beam at Parker. “That’s great! Does Theresa know? We should go find her,” I say quickly, throwing my arm around Parker’s shoulders and practically dragging him toward the set, out of sight of Nathan.
“Hey, wait. I wanted a cookie,” says Parker, glancing back at the table of food.
“I’ll save some for you. Cupcakes, too,” I say, squeezing his shoulder. “But for the love of God, keep walking.”
“You’re so weird sometimes,” he mutters.
Once we effectively dodge Landon’s father, Theresa and I cheer Parker on as he lands incredible flips and tricks on his skateboard. He nails everything, and I’m torn between watching him and watching Landon, who’s gazing at Parker with a brotherly sort of affection and pride that warms my heart.
It’s not just Parker, though. All the kids are incredible, and Landon approaches each with an enthusiasm and tenderness I’ve never seen from him before. One thing is clear. He loves it. He absolutelyloveswhat he does and the difference he’s making.
And I wonder,how did Mel not realize? How did Mel not see?
Ofcoursehe puts all his time into this company. He transforms when he’s talking to these kids, and I can see why the Sunday brunches and family obligations are worth it. I understand why he puts up with his father’s bullshit and his mother’s demands. I know now why he made the sacrifices with Mel and always spent his timeat that damn company,as she so eloquently put it.
When he’s in his element, he comesalive.
I’m absolutely mesmerized by him. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to.
My heart won’t let me.
After Parker’s performance, the rest of the day is a whirlwind. I manage to avoid Landon’s dad, sticking with Parker and Theresa until the shoot starts wrapping up. By then Nathan’s long gone, and I can fully relax and rejoice in the fact that the desserts were a hit. I’m lucky I snapped a bunch of photos earlier in the day because only one of each remains, and I send them off with Parker.
Landon’s nowhere to be found, so I head home to the empty house. I’m sure he has a million things to do and doesn’t need me bothering him, so I post some photos of the cupcakes from the shoot and then make myself some eggs for dinner. I eat by the pool, and once I’m done, I check my account to see the number of likes.
One comment in particular catches my eye.
Will you be at Sugar Spectacle?
I pause. Sugar Spectacle? I’ve never heard of it before, so I open a browser on my phone and search the name, only to discover that it’s a baking and desserts exhibition in Atlanta.
Sugar Spectacle is the Southeast’s Largest Baking and Desserts Expo. Shop, eat, learn, and compete at this year’s experience. Discover the latest and greatest baking tools, sample local confectionaries, and indulge in a weekend of sweet activities.
Intrigued, I look up the price of admission. The expo itself isn’t costly, only thirty dollars for a ticket, but the hotel and travel are a different story, not to mention I’d have to take four days off work. Two days of travel, two days of expo. As I search the prices of hotels in the surrounding metro area, I feel myself deflate a little. The cheapestdecenthotel I can find is $175 a night, which isn’thorrible, I guess. And with the money I earned from dog sitting Snowball, I could probably justify the expense.
It would be an experience, that’s for sure.
The beep of the house alarm pulls me from my thoughts, and I glance over at the kitchen window. Sure enough, Landon’s returned, and he immediately goes to the bourbon shelf to pour himself a glass of something expensive. I hope it’s celebratory, because in my opinion, the shoot was flawless.
I wave to draw his attention and gesture for him to come outside. He does so, dropping down into the seat across from me and taking a long sip from the glass clutched in his fist.
“That was such a cool day,” I say, because I can never justenjoysilence. “Everything. The cameras, the green screen, the people running around with clipboards like they were doing really important shit.” Landon doesn’t respond, and when I look more closely, I realize that he’s definitely not celebrating. “Why don’t you look happy? I thought everything went well.”
He shrugs and takes another drink, his expression blank. Cold. I wouldn’t recognize him as the same man laughing with those children on set, and a part of me wants to reach out and hug him. I don’t, of course, but my fingers twitch with the urge. “It went fine.”
I study his face, trying to decipher the reason for his gloomy mood. “Did your dad say something about it?”
When he glances sharply at me, I notice the vulnerable crack in his composure. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” I say, leaning back in the seat. “You’re doing that pouty thing you do when your dad says something mean.”
He scoffs, shaking his head like the thought’s ridiculous. “I don’t do apouty thing.’”
