Page 73 of The Icing on the Cake
For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead he leaves mewanting.Before he closes the door, he gives me a look, leaving my heart still stuttering.
He just knew.From day one, he saw something in me worth waiting for, worth loving, even if it meant letting me go. That’s not control—that’s the opposite of everything Nate ever gave me.
I’m left with the ache of something I can’t name. I didn’t feel this kind of loss when I broke up with Nate, only an angry sense of injustice that I’d been betrayed. But Lucian walking away? I feelgutted.
My eyes drift to the half-completed grant application on my counter. It’s due tomorrow at eleven a.m. I pick up the wooden cupcake Lucian made me and roll it between my fingers.
This small gift will always remind me of the man who said hejustknew,then walked away to let me choose. Until now, I hadn’t realized how much I want to believe that someone could see me clearly andstillchoose to stay.
Because that’s what grief does—it makes us wildly self-protective, always looking for the exits before someone else can show us the door. It makes us choose moving on over the terrifying possibility of being left behind again.
I pick up the grant application and study it, before setting it next to the wood carving.
I’m not ready to make any decisions tonight. Not when I can still remember what Lucian’s hands feel like wrapped around me.
Maybe Lucian’s grandpa was right.
Sometimes you just know.
Maybe I always did.
CHAPTER 22
NEESHA
As I pull into the Maple Falls Assisted Living Center parking lot, the scent of maple and cinnamon wafts from the cupcakes I made last night. I’ve been here dozens of times, usually with Emmy, but never when I’ve been at a crossroads like this.
After I set aside the grant application yesterday, I reached for my phone, sending a text message to Mimi Roberts to ask if I could talk with her this morning.
Right now, I feel the loss of my mother more than ever, and Mimi is one of the few people who knew her well.
Mimi’s reply came almost immediately:Come at 9:00. Bring cupcakes.
As I pick up the box of maple pecan cupcakes, I already know where Mimi will be this morning.
The garden courtyard, with its dappled sunlight on the rust-colored and ruby-red mums, is like stepping into a private sanctuary away from the rest of the world. A little fountain bubbles in the corner and a few golden leaves dot the ground, reminding me of the change that’s inevitable—the last of the glorious, golden days before the frost settles permanently and snow covers the pumpkins. Even though there’s an autumn chill in theair, Mimi only wears a light jacket, her silver hair gleaming in the morning light. She’s repotting plants on a small table before winter hits, preparing them for a sunny window in her room.
She glances up as soon as I step into the courtyard, a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. “Perfect timing, Neesha. I see you brought my request.”
I set the box on the table and pop open the lid. “Mom’s recipe,” I confirm. “Speaking of perfect timing, baking was the therapy I didn’t know I needed last night.”
“Ah, another late-night baking session.” Mimi nods knowingly. “You must have something on your mind, because your mother did the same thing. Whenever she had a problem, she’d either bake or paint late into the night.”
I’d always known Mom painted, but discovering it was her way of processing life makes my heart squeeze with familiar grief. “What? When?”
Mimi thinks for a moment, setting down her garden trowel. “She painted her biggest canvas on the day she found out she was pregnant with you.”
“I never heard that story.” I sit down next to her on the bench.
Mimi selects a cupcake from the box, peeling the wrapper methodically. “Before you were born, your mother was offered a position in an art gallery in San Francisco. Her paintings were starting to sell locally, and the gallery owner became a fan after seeing her paintings in Falling for Books.”
“Wait.” I stare at her, stunned. “Mom had paintings hanging in the bookstore where I work now?”
“Only a few, when it was run by the original owners. Visitors would come through the town and buy them.”
“So why did Mom turn down San Francisco? That sounds like a dream job.”
“It was,” Mimi confirms. “But dreams change, Neesha. They evolve as we do.”
