Jake
The Next Summer
After unfastening Grace from her car seat, I walk around the front of our SUV and open my wife’s door with Grace on my hip. As Emily swings her feet to the pavement, she says into her phone, “We’re picking them up now.”
Who would’ve thought I’d prefer driving an SUV rather than my pickup? But when I have my girls, and we’re not hauling something or plowing through snowdrifts, I prefer the convenience of an all-wheel drive SUV.
Yes, I’m a completely domesticated man. I even put the toilet seat down. However, I’m not sure if that’s domestication or survival instinct.
She listens as I shut the door and reposition Grace, who gasps my T-shirt in her little hands and kicks her legs when I don’t move again. “Just a second, Love Bug, we’ll get going when Mommy gets off the phone.”
Grace wrinkles her nose as much as a baby can wrinkle their nose and settles against me rather than protesting. Her bright eyes take in everything from the flowerpots along the front of Chloe’s Baker to the traffic on Main Street.
At 18 months old, Grace is a walking, jabbering, curious little toddler who has me wrapped around her finger. She rests her head against my shoulder and glances at me. And she knows it.
“Mom, I don’t know. So, for the last time, I can’t tell you. We’ll all find out together tonight.” Emily’s tone is only slightly miffed. The day is too beautiful with white puff clouds, blue skies, and balmy temperatures to get too upset.
Grace swings her legs again. “Just a second, baby.”
“We’ll see you tonight.” Emily clicks off her phone and shoves it into her shoulder bag. “The woman is driving me crazy.”
“I know.” I kiss her upturned mouth. It’s chaste enough for downtown Brookhaven but still holds a bit of heat.
When she rocks back on her heels, her eyes twinkle. “You’re so good at that.”
“I know.” I wink and place my arm around her back. “Your daughter is impatiently waiting. She’s ready to go inside.”
“Of course she is.” Emily leans her head against my chest as we stride across the sidewalk toward the front door.
Like Chloe’s Bakery in Kansas City, the one in Brookhaven is painted white with pink and yellow décor, making it look clean and friendly.
“Like mother, like daughter. We love our cake.” Emily wraps her arm around my waist while opening the door to the familiar tinkling sounds of bells.
Mira, Dominic’s mother, waves at us with a bright smile on her face. “Hello, guys.” She rushes around the counter with her pink Chloe’s Bakery apron covering her black T-shirt and pants. “Let me see you.” She rests her hand on Emily’s upper arm. “You’re stunning. Just gorgeous. I love those pants.”
“They’re new.” Emily’s cheeks tinge pink that almost matches the mauve top that she’s paired with her white capris. “Thank you. I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to people gushing over me.”
“Everyone loves a pregnant woman.” Mira kisses Emily’s cheek and squeezes her shoulder. “I have your goodies in the kitchen. I’ll be back with them in a second.”
“Thanks, Mira.” Emily drops her arm from my back as I release my grip on her.
The bakery is a mix of warmth and a slight chill from the air conditioning, making it feel like a cocoon you never want to leave. When you pair that with the scents of vanilla, chocolate, and other baking smells, it makes your head spin if you close your eyes.
“But before I go….” Mira pokes the tip of Grace’s nose. “What color of cupcake does our little angel want?”
“Purp!” Grace bounces up and down on my hip. “Purp!” It would be impossible for Grace not to love purple since that’s the color she sees the most on her Momma.
“Of course.” Mira laughs as she turns on her heel. “Only the best for our girlie.”
“You did beautifully.” I kiss the top of Emily’s head.
“It’s still bizarre.” Emily has never enjoyed being the center of attention. Even though she’s always been the focus of my attention.
I chuckle over her unease as Mira disappears into the back. “Only four more months to go.”
At one point, I thought I’d never step foot inside Jolie’s Café again without wanting to punch someone, but all of those painful memories have been permanently erased from my brain.
“Thank God. Then everyone can go back to gushing over Grace and the new baby, and I can go back to being part of the woodwork.”
