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“I might have, um, left some grease stains on your tank top.”
Jess looked down at her shirt, at the remnants of bike grease from his touch. She shrugged. “I’ve had this thing for almost a decade, I literally don’t care.”
“You sure?”
“I don’t care about any of my clothes,” she said matter-of-factly. “They’re all old from high school. I had to stop caring about clothes long ago.”
“Jess that’s…so sad.”
She glared at him. “We’re not here to be sad, we’re here to work.” She pulled her hair into a ponytail. “I’m going to grab supplies to clean that kitchen.”
Kevin’s face brightened, as if he couldn’t believe this was really happening. “Want me to help?”
“Kevin, no, you have to work,” Jess said, pointing to his half-finished job of opening up the shop. “We still need to make as much money as possible to keep this place afloat, and if we’re doing renovations soon, you need to—”
“Okay, okay, boss lady,” Kevin said in an amused tone. “I get it! Go clean, I’ll be up here.”
Jess nodded and turned back toward the double doors, flinging them open. She glanced around her kitchen—her kitchen—and cataloged what needed to be done. She smiled to herself, letting the excitement in her chest bubble to the surface as a few tears of pure happiness rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them away, her hands trembling slightly at the mere thought that this time next week, she would be baking all the kanelbullar her heart desired.
Jess sat on her new bed, in her new room. It felt jarring sleeping by herself after sharing one with Charlie for so long. She didn’t realize how horribly she’d been sleeping until her first morning at the Balls’ cottage when she woke up feeling well-rested for the first time in years. Or maybe it was the fact that the stress etched in her chest from constantly worrying about rent and bills dulled slightly in her new environment. Either way, she vowed to never share a bed with someone again.
She scanned the notebook on her lap, making edits to her recipes. They were the same ones she used at the bakery at Post Road but with major improvements now that she could do her own thing. She flicked through the pages, wondering if it would be crazy to sell a few loaves of sourdough bread and French baguettes each day. She scribbled it down, noting for later.
A soft knock came from her closed bedroom door. “You can’t hide in there forever, my dear.”
She sighed and tossed her notebook aside, then headed for the door, creaking it open slowly. Gram stood on the other side in her pajamas, wrapped up in her soft robe.
“I don’t want to be a bother,” Jess admitted. “As soon as I can afford my own place again, I’ll be—”
“You be quiet with that nonsense,” Gram interrupted. She held up her hand and patted Jess’s cheek. “Calvin is your family, so you are my family. Now get in the kitchen and eat some dinner.”
Jess gave her a bashful smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
She followed Gram into the kitchen, sitting down at the table covered in an intricate lace tablecloth, a peony-scented candle burning at the center. Gram pulled out a wrapped-up pie container from the fridge.
Her eyebrows raised. “Dessert for dinner?”
“My house, my rules,” Gram replied, placing a slice of cherry pie in the toaster oven, then took a seat next to Jess. “So. How are you?”
“Good.” Jess nodded. She shifted in her seat, feeling uncomfortable. She’d only really spoken to Calvin’s grandmother in passing. How much had Calvin told her? How much did she know?
“You break up with someone after nine years and you’re just…good? I don’t buy it, dearie.”
Okay, so she knows a lot, Jess thought to herself. “I’m still, um, in shock, I think.”
“I would be too, that’s a long time to be with a person,” Gram replied. “Calvin’s grandfather has been gone for eleven years, and I still think I’m in shock.”
“How long were you married?”
“Forty-one blissful years.”
Jess smirked. “Were they all blissful?”
Gram nodded, no hesitation in the slightest. “Yes. Even when we fought. Even when things felt hard. Every second with him was worth it.”
Jess wrung her hands underneath the table, her mind drifting to her years with Charlie. Blissful wasn’t exactly the word she’d use to describe their relationship. Sure, parts of being with him in the beginning felt magical, the first kisses and the stolen moments when she’d sneak out of her parents’ house. But in the end, on the brink of finally being on her own after almost a decade, she was surprised at how little she mourned what they’d become. Or maybe it was her excellent night’s sleep that was making her feel a little jaded.
The timer from the toaster oven dinged.