Better to scorch it right off.
“I’ve been going through all his things,” Caleb says, and if he notices how fucking awkwardly I’m acting, he doesn’t say it outright.
Small favors.
Or, more likely, Caleb still knowing me all too damned well.
“That sounds hard.” Rose kicks me in the shin. “We can come help, right, Ivy?”
I take another long drink of the coffee cradled in my hands, warmth seeping through the ceramic into my cold palms.
She kicks me again, and I nod. “Mmhmm.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he tells Rose, but he’s looking at me.
“Well, we can make you some food, right? The funeral was a while ago, so all those casseroles are gone… do you need groceries or anything? Candy?” She kicks me again, and I glare at her over my steaming mug.
Tom clears his throat.
“Pike brought me food last night, so there’s no need to go to any trouble.”
“Raymond’s a good man,” Tom agrees, and we all nod. As if any of us would disagree and say that Raymond Pike’s is actually a curmudgeonly old bastard — albeit with a heart of gold.
“I wouldn’t mind some of your sea salt and dark chocolate toffee, Ivy. I’ve always loved your sweets.”
Warmth that has nothing to do with the coffee blossoms deep in my chest, and I stare at Caleb for a long moment in mild disbelief.
Toffee was always our secret language.
He helped me perfect that recipe, in stolen moments at midnights and dawns, until we found the ideal ratio of butter and sugar and heat.
I’d leave it for him on his doorstep when I’d make a batch and he wasn’t around.
I’d leave it on his pillow when I’d have to wake and work early.
My throat gets tight as the memories threaten to choke me.
“Ivy would love to bring you some toffee.” Rose tries to kick me again, but it doesn’t take foresight to see it’s coming, and I move my leg so she gets nothing but air.
“Of course,” I finally manage. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Tonight?”
“Oh, I don’t know if I have time to add another—” My phone ca-chings in my pocket, the sound signifying someone’s placed a custom order in my store. “See?” I wave the phone. “I just got another order so I couldn’t?—”
“It says it’s for sea salt and dark chocolate toffee,” Rose deadpans.
“I just put an order in,” Mari says as she walks by. “I thought I’d stock some of Caleb’s favorite while he’s in town.”
“Well, then, that’s settled,” Rose says, smug as I’ve ever seen her. “You’ll whip up a batch of toffee and take some to Caleb tonight.”
“Aw, now isn’t that sweet of you,” Mari tells me. “I tell you what, I’ll get some cold brew sorted for you too, Caleb. I’ll drop it by Sugar & Salt later today, okay, Ivy?”
“Sure.” As if I could say anything else.
“I’ll make you dinner, so it’s worth your trip back out to the lighthouse.” Caleb smiles.
“Back out?” Mari pipes up, taking her time refreshing our cups.
