Page 53 of Same Time Next Summer

“You may need to burn the house down.”

She laughs. “I don’t want to hear that you’re tired today, because there’s a lot to do. I was going to start addressing these envelopes. You have an appointment at Ginnie’s totaste the cake at one and then at the Old Sloop Inn to look at linens at two.”

“Great,” I say. “Wyatt said he’d come with me.”

“How’s your head?” she asks, and I misunderstand the question. I’m about to say it’s clearing up, that I caught a glimpse of myself and I want to see more of her. I want to say that I’m afraid if I let her out she will fall madly in love with Wyatt and ruin my life. But she’s looking at the Band-Aid on my forehead.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I say. She goes back to her doodling. I open the freezer and find a frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I unwrap it and hold it, cold in my hand. I love that she’s still buying these, waiting for her little girl to show up and eat them. “Mom, I’m sorry I’ve stayed away from the beach for so long.”

She looks up at me and puts down her pen. “Me too. But I feel you coming back.”

“Same,” I say, and kiss the top of her head.

52

It feels funny walking down Main Street with Wyatt. In fourteen years, stores have turned over and lots of faces are new, but I can’t shake the feeling that the town itself remembers us. The streetlights and the garbage cans, the red brick post office on whose steps we sat to watch the Fourth of July parade. I feel like we still look like a couple.

The bell over the door dings as we walk into Ginnie’s Bakery. Ginnie’s husband, Raoul, looks up from the cash register and puts his hand over his heart when he sees us. “I knew it!” he booms, stepping out from behind the counter. He hugs me and shakes Wyatt’s hand. I know what’s coming, and I know Wyatt knows too. He puts his arm around me to make sure it’s coming. I think he thinks it’s funny. I just can’t.

“Hello,” I say. “I see you remember Wyatt. He’s here to help with the tasting. I’m marrying someone else.”

Raoul’s face falls. “Oh.”

“Imagine how I feel,” says Wyatt, and I give him a shove.

Raoul quickly corrects himself. “I’m sorry, I justthought... You two walking in here the same way as when you were kids, the leaning. Ginnie always remarked about how you two walked together, sort of leaning into one another. We were like that too.”

I am, I realize, sort of leaning toward Wyatt. I look at the space between our shoulders as we stand side by side and it’s not normal. Wyatt is watching me notice this and gives me a shove back. “So let’s talk cake,” he says to Raoul.

“The cake. Yes, come sit down.” We sit at a corner table where two slices of cake are waiting for us. Raoul introduces the first one. “This is a vanilla cake with a buttercream frosting with hints of lemon. Just hints.”

We each take a bite. “It’s delicious,” I say.

“I’m not so sure,” says Wyatt. “I taste no hints at all. What else have you got?”

“This is an outlandishly lemony cake with a lemon buttercream frosting. It’s a bridal favorite.”

We each take a bite and Wyatt nods. “It’s outlandish all right.”

I knock my knee into his. “Are there any more choices?”

“There’s another one I like.” Raoul goes back to the kitchen.

Wyatt’s laughing as he reaches over to wipe frosting off my mouth with his napkin. He hasn’t gotten it all, so he brushes the last bits of sugar with his fingers. I feel his fingers on my lips everywhere in my body. “You’re a mess,” he says.

Raoul brings us chocolate cake with vanilla frosting, layered with chocolate chip buttercream frosting. I must have made a sound when I tasted it.

“She likes this one,” says Wyatt.

“You don’t know that,” I say.

“I know your sounds, Sam. She’ll take this one.”

“You can’t have a chocolate cake for a wedding, right?” I ask Raoul, taking a third bite.

“You can do whatever you want, but no, traditionally it’s white cake. The fun thing about this one is the white frosting looks traditional, and no one knows it’s chocolate until it’s cut.”

“Let’s go back to the first two,” I say.

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