Page 75 of The Accidental Honeymoon

"Thank you. For all of this. I know it's not easy."

I exhale and nod, appreciating the effort he’s putting in without making it unbearably awkward.

"We’re in it together, right?" It nearly sounds convincing.

"Yeah," he says. He offers me his hand and his eyes hold mine a moment longer than they need to. "Together."

We reach his SUV, and I pause before getting in. The mud run, the laughter, his hands on me. They’ve all stirred something I’m not ready to confront.

"Jay," I say. He looks at me expectantly. "I know this is just an arrangement, but…."

"But?" he prompts.

"But I appreciate that you're taking it seriously," I finish.

Yup. I chickened out.

He nods. "I appreciate you, Calla."

I slide into the passenger seat, my heart a confused, muddy mess.

twenty-six

CALLA

The bakery has soldout of cupcakes, by noon, almost every day in the last month. I need to increase the volume of cupcakes by enough to last the full day, but not to where we’d have leftover cupcakes.

So how many twenty-five pound drums of flour and sugar should I buy?

It’s like one of those word problems from algebra. Except with this question, there are actually stakes. The flour and sugar actually cost memoney.

I’m sitting in You Butter Believe It’s kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee and going over an inventory list for my bakery. I tap a pen against my lips and write down a conservative number. Then I scratch it out and write a bigger number.

Hmm.If I don’t order enough supplies, we’ll keep running out of cupcakes. But if I over-order a few times, I will be in hot water financially. I can always put an order or two of supplies on my business credit card… but I need to be sure that I’ll have the cash to pay it off when the bill comes due.

My phone buzzes on the counter. I mindlesslyreach for the phone, still running through my calculations. I was never a great math student, and that makes running my own small business challenging.

The phone buzzes again in my hand.

Incoming!Cora texts.Mom saw your wedding video. She’s in a mood.

Oh, crap. This is exactly what I don’t need. I’d hoped to go through the whole three-month period as a married woman without my parents ever finding out. Now that’s out the window.

Like magic, my phone starts to ring. I glance at the screen. It's my mother. Bracing myself, I swipe to answer.

“Mom!” I say, adopting a cheerful tone. “I was just thinking about you.”

"Calanthe Anastasia Diana Nikolakas!" My mother is a force of nature, like a Mediterranean hurricane. "Why didn't you tell us you were getting married?"

Double crap. She’s serious if she’s using my full name. I can almost see her with her hand on her hip, her dark curls bobbing with each indignant head shake.

Before I can respond, she plows ahead. "We had to find out from Facebook! Do you know how embarrassing that is for your father and me? I said to your dad, ‘What do you think we’ve ever done to Calla that she would keep us out of her life like this?’"

"Daphne," my father cuts in. Stavros is ever the peacemaker. "Calla, sweetheart. We are happy for you. But surprised. Very surprised. We have whiplash over here."

I switch the phone to my other ear. I'm already exhausted. Now I have to make up a lie on the spot, which has me flustered. Well, it’s not a lie per se. It’s more of a massaging of the truth.

That doesn’t make it any easier to say it out loud.

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