“Yep.” She gestured to a tray of cupcakes that had been cooling on the counter. “Did you want me to decorate these?”
“You remember how your mother likes them done?”
“Of course.”
She plucked them from the tray and placed them on a rack. Then she swirled on the buttercream that Mum had prepared earlier in variety of colours for the little girl’s party that was happening in the upstairs attic room.
Most Saturdays had a party or two, which meant most Saturday mornings were really busy. And the fact that she was here meant Mum could have a rare Saturday off to spend time with Liv and the others and show Liam around. Well, after Mum had done the buttercream icing, anyway. Not that her mother had trust issues or anything. She smirked to herself as she decorated the cupcakes with the frosting. Strawberry, peach, banana, minty green. The colours and flavours were all natural, which helped mothers feel like they were making a responsible choice for a party otherwise laden with sugar and fat. But what was a party without a few lollies and sweet things? Boring, that’s what.
She sprinkled on the edible flowers and tiny cut-up fruit pieces that represented each cupcake and finished them with a strand of Persian fairy floss. Mm. She pushed the plate towards her father. “What do you think?”
Dad nodded. “Looks good enough to eat.”
She chuckled, then noticed his face soften. “What?”
“It’s good to hear you laugh. It’s been a while.”
Had it? Probably. It’d been ages since she’d felt this sense of ease. There had always been this internal drive to perform, to do, to improve, to have more, that she rarely relaxed. And spending time here in the café this week, doing things that she’d done so often in the past that she’d resented it, now felt like putting on an old shoe, something comfortable and familiar, giving a sense of ease, of rightness, like this was okay too.
“It’s been nice to be here this week.”
“I know your mum and sisters are glad to have you here.”
“And you too?” she teased.
He smiled. “And me too. That goes without saying.”
“And it did. Which is why I had to point it out.”
His chuckle broke across the soft strains of Highlands FM playing in the background. Local music in the kitchen, strains of Mozart and elegant instrumental versions of pop hits in the café. How it had always been.
She plated the cupcakes on the tiered serving platter, which was made of several mismatched vintage china plates screwed together, with a silver handle at the top. The floral patterns occasionally matched some of the teacup and saucer sets used by the customers, all of which helped provide that sense of an elegant bygone era.
She smoothed her ruffled white apron, then hoisted the tray up the stairs to the partygoers in the renovated attic. “Here you are, ladies.”
The seven-year-olds giggled as the parents looked up from their phones and joined in admiring the cupcakes. Contentment filled her. It was so easy to make people smile. Maybe she should encourage Mum to enter the catering industry. She could help her by setting up a website and … No. She wasn’t going to be that hectic woman on the hamster wheel of life anymore, remember? She smiled at herself and turned to go.
“Oh, wait. It’s EJ, right?” one of the mums asked.
She paused, eyeing the blonde. Why did she look vaguely familiar? “Yes.”
“Alissa Hopkins, from school. Well, I was Baxter then. We were in the same year.”
No. Her stomach tensed. Nausea swept through her. Oh, she remembered her now.
“I’m sure you don’t remember me”—not true—“but I remember you. You were always getting all those awards, right?”
She stared at the woman who had once laughed at her. Mocked her. Whose words had ignited the need to prove herself. How could she talk about awards when this woman’s words had propelled her headlong into core-deep self-loathing?
“EJ?”
She shook herself mentally. “That was a long time ago.”
And it was. Oh, how foolish had she been to absorb someone else’s words into her soul and carry them for so many years? She might be smart, but oh, she’d been a fool as well.Lord, forgive me.
“Is it true that you and Eric Churchill were dating? I couldn’t believe someone from Wattle Vale actually knew him.” Alissa’s eyes were as wide as the cups on the table. Several of the other parents were listening now too.
The inclination to boast and prove herself was no longer there. She didn’t have to prove anything to these people. “We’rebusiness associates, nothing more.”Quick, change the subject.“So, which one of these little princesses is yours?”
