“Should I buy a ticket for Rudy?” Max joked as he looked up from his phone.
My dad set down his fork and peered over at Max. “Only if you can get him to sit upright in his seat and use good table manners.”
8
Dinner wrapped up, all of us were lingering over coffee and chatting, until Fran finally pushed back from the table, a sure signal she was ready to clean up.
“After you’ve helped Fran in the kitchen,” Dad said quietly while I gathered plates, Holly and Max helping Joy lug mostly empty food serving dishes away, “why don’t you come out to the antique store for a minute? I’ve got some projects in the craft room I want to show you.”
“Will Deke be out there helping?” Our neighbor and Dad’s right-hand elf practically lived in the shop.
Dad smiled. “He will.”
And that suited me just fine. Deke Nelson was practically a part of our family, and my father was his best friend and protector. Ever since Deke’s mother had been ill, Deke had been spending more and more time with our family. A jovial man with Down Syndrome, Deke was also an accomplished artist in clay, creating pottery pieces and pressing leaves and ferns into them to make natural designs. The tourists loved the pottery for its beauty and practicality, and so did I. I even helped sell them in my bakery by displaying baked goods on them, from time totime. I knew if Deke was at the antique store, I’d also get to see his faithful yellow Lab, Cupcake, and mentally winced that I’d forgotten to make any doggie treats for him. Deke had asked if I could make dog biscuits, like the ones he would buy at the Mercantile, and I hadn’t had time to try it out yet.
I made a note to be sure to have doggie treats next time. “I’m glad he’ll be there,” I told my dad. “I have a box of cinnamon rolls I brought for him and his mom.” I’d left them in the front of my car so no one would help themselves. I loved my family, but they weren’t above absconding with other people’s treats given the opportunity. “I’ll be there as soon as I’m done here, okay?”
I spent the next few minutes helping Holly and Fran in the kitchen. Joy had begged off, saying she needed to leave and head back down to the town manager’s office to start making calls and find a new person to play Cupid. Max headed outside to feed Rudy some leftover cooked carrots.
When everything was cleaned and put away, I left Holly and her mom to chat in the kitchen. It was a crisp, clear night, and it was only a couple of blocks to walk to get to our family’s antique store. Zipping my jacket, I headed to the space that always brought me peace outside of my bakery. The antique store was a hot spot for tourists, but the craft room in the back was what I loved the best. Besides Deke’s clay creations, my father spent a lot of time making toys there, for charity and for distributing at Christmas. Other groups took turns using the space, too, whether it was for quilting or scrapbooking or a crochet club or whatever else they wanted to use it for. It was open to the community and rarely out of use.
As soon as I opened the door to the craft room, I heard a familiar greeting.
“Hey, Ivy! Give me some sugar!”
I walked over to give Deke a great big hug, and then a quick peck on the cheek. Pulling back a bit, I smiled at him and heldout the box of cinnamon rolls. “I brought you some goodies, for you and your mom.” I could feel Cupcake bumping into my leg in wiggly greeting, and I reached down to pet him on the head. The large, yellow lab panted his delight at me. “Hey, Cupcake. Good to see you too.”
Deke’s eyes lit up as he opened the box and peered inside. “Mom says I can have one to test them before I bring them home.” He pulled out the biggest one. “This one.” Munching happily on his treat, Deke grabbed my hand and pulled me toward his workbench. “Look at what I just did, Ivy,” he said around a mouthful of crumbs. “I’m going to take it to the art gallery to sell it. Isn’t it pretty?”
“Wow! It sure is,” I agreed, because it was. Deke had used maple leaves to press a design into a large oval platter, and their arrangement made it look like the leaves were blowing or falling across the surface of the plate. He had used a deep green glaze for the surface and highlighted the outlines of the leaves in a subtle deep purple. “Do you have a buyer for this one yet?” I ran a reverent finger over it, marveling at its beauty.
He shook his head no as he took another big bite of his treat.
“Well,” I said, slipping an arm around him, “if nobody buys it right away at the gallery, can I take it to my bakery and show it off there? It’s really beautiful, and I bet somebody would fall in love with it.”
“Sure!” He beamed at me, then looked over at my dad. “Hey, Luke! Ivy says she wants to try and sell it from the bakery!”
Dad looked up from his workbench, a file still in one hand, and smiled. “That’s great, Deke.”
Deke’s eyes widened in sudden remembrance. “Hey, did you know there’s a new candy store? A real candy store that opened up in town? Mama says I can go visit it when it’s open, and it’s close to your bakery so I can visit you, too.”
Even though I felt a twinge of annoyance at being reminded of my competitor across the street, I certainly wasn’t going to show it to my friend, Deke.
“Yes, I saw them moving things into the candy store today, and when it gets open, you’ll have to come visit us both.” I managed a smile. “The owner even has a little dog. Maybe he and Cupcake can be friends.”
And maybe the little Scotty dog only growled at me and would give Cupcake the benefit of the doubt. I certainly hoped so.
Deke didn’t seem to notice, though. I got a lopsided grin in response. He carefully closed the top of the box of rolls and set it next to his coat. “Luke is going to walk with me to my house tonight.” My father did that every time he was there with him, but I was used to Deke repeating things like that, as if it helped him to know what the next steps were in his routine.
“Ivy, come help me with this toy, would you?” Dad held up a wooden truck in his hand. “My hands just aren’t what they used to be.”
I wanted to roll my eyes and scoff because I knew better. Dad’s hands were as steady as a surgeon’s and always had been. I had a feeling, though, that he was throwing me an olive branch, so I strolled over to the bench and held the truck carefully for him while he went to work on it.
“I’m sorry you were taken by surprise with The Sweet Shoppe coming to town.” Dad’s voice was soft, as though his words were only for me despite Deke’s presence. He sighed as he set the file down and studied me with real concern. “That was never my intention, Ivy. I hadn’t thought about the fact that maybe you’d see him as being in direct competition with you, especially if hedoesbranch out and do cakes.”
I blinked back the sudden onslaught of tears that sprang to my eyes. I’d been carrying my worry and irritation and anxietyall day, holding it back with bravado I didn’t really have. The encounters with Connor hadn’t helped… but now that Dad was acknowledging my fears, I felt my emotional walls weakening to the point I might crack. “I know, Dad.”
“Do you?” He hesitated before taking the truck from my hands and grasping my fingers in his. “Because I feel like you’re mad at me.”
