Page 44 of Trussed In Hope
“Hi,” she said with a smile that was shy but warm. “I… thought maybe you could use these.”
“Cinnamon rolls?” I couldn’t help grinning as I stepped aside. “You’re a lifesaver. Come in.”
She moved past me, her presence quiet but steady though she wobbled inside, and the kitchen seemed to brighten with her in it. Tia glanced up, eyes widening, then softened into a smile.
“Oh, you didn’t tell me we were having royalty join us,” Tia teased. “Fresh-baked cinnamon rolls? You’re spoiling us already.”
Raya blushed faintly as she set the dish down on the counter. “I had the time this morning, and… well, I thought maybe you’d like them. Elijah’s been going on about how much you and Hardison are doing out here, and it felt like the least I could do.”
“That’s more than the least,” I said, pulling plates from the cupboard. “That’s heavenly.”
We sat around the table, pulling the rolls apart with sticky fingers, the glaze melting warm across our lips. Tia licked hers clean with a grin. “Okay, Emberlynn, I approve. Between Hardison and Raya, you’re surrounded by people who can take care of you. That means I can relax.”
Raya tilted her head curiously. “Relax?”
Tia gave a dramatic sigh, leaning back in her chair. “As her best friend, it’s my sworn duty to interrogate anyone who getsclose. But since you’ve shown up with cinnamon rolls, you pass. For now.”
I groaned. “Don’t listen to her. She thinks she’s my bodyguard.”
“Iamyour bodyguard,” Tia shot back with mock seriousness, making Raya laugh softly, the sound like bells in the quiet kitchen.
For a while, the three of us just talked—about little things, like favorite recipes, about the best local shops in town, about how quiet it could be out here compared to the city. Raya was gentle in her words, almost hesitant at first, but as the conversation went on, I saw her shoulders loosen, her laughter coming easier.
When she reached for another roll, she glanced at me. “I don’t have many friends out here. It’s… nice. To sit and talk like this.”
Something in her voice tugged at me, and I realized what Tia had probably already noticed—Raya needed this as much as we did. She needed a circle. A safe space.
I smiled, feeling the truth of it settle between us like warmth. “Then it’s official,” I said. “Coffee and cinnamon rolls whenever we can manage. The three of us.”
Raya’s eyes shined just a little, and she nodded. “I’d like that.”
Raya settled more comfortably into the chair with a little sigh, tugging at the hem of her loose sweater. Even under the soft knit, her belly was unmistakable—round and full, the pregnancy you couldn’t miss if you tried.
“God, I feel like a beached whale,” she groaned, reaching for her cinnamon roll.
“You look beautiful,” I said firmly, leaning in with a smile.
“Beautiful and glowing,” Tia added with a wicked grin. “Like a Christmas ornament. A very… round one.”
Raya snorted, covering her mouth as she laughed. “An ornament, huh? Thanks, it really makes me feel delicate.”
“Hey, delicate’s overrated,” Tia shot back. “You’re carrying life in there. You’re allowed to wobble and groan and eat your weight in cinnamon rolls.”
Raya gave a half-smile, but her eyes softened. “Elijah says the same thing. Every time I panic, or that about the nursery not being finished, or that I can’t see my feet anymore, he just kisses me and tells me I’m perfect.”
My heart warmed at that. “Sounds like he’s doing his job right.”
“He is,” she admitted, pressing her palm against her stomach as if soothing the little one inside. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared out of my mind. Seven months feels like forever and no time at all. Some days, I can’t wait to meet her. And on other days, I just want to freeze time because I don’t feel ready.”
Tia reached across the table, her expression uncharacteristically tender. “Nobody’s ever really ready, Raya. But you’re gonna be a wonderful mom. You’ve got that soft heart thing going on, even if you don’t think people notice.”
Raya blinked rapidly, clearly trying not to cry. “Damn hormones. You two are going to make me bawl right into my cinnamon roll.”
I laughed and nudged the plate closer to her. “Then at least you’ll have frosting tears. Sweetest kind.”
Her laughter joined ours, and for a moment, it wasn’t about fear or timelines or anything else. It was just three women sitting around a table, cinnamon rolls between us, finding comfort in the friendship that made everything feel a little less heavy. I couldn’t help but take in this moment. My best friend was here, and I couldn’t help feeling that Raya would be a good friend as well.
EMBERLYNN
