Page 19 of Hers to Kiss
Chapter 7
“You’re here early.”
Keke’s sister Katrina opened the front door of the bakery and ushered Keke inside. They shared a long embrace.
“It’s good to see you, sis,” Kat said. Her smile reached her dark eyes. “You look exactly the same.”
“Kaye family genes.”
Kat chuckled. “I expected you to look four years older.”
“What are you talking about? We FaceTime, like, once a month.”
Kat wrapped an arm around Keke’s waist, and they headed back toward the kitchen. “I know, I know. But it’s not the same as seeing you in person. It has been four years.”
Keke groaned. “Are you going to give me grief about that, too? Kori didn’t even make it back for my graduation. She’s stayed away a lot longer than I have.”
“Kori is a very busy executive assistant. Her boss is a tyrant who rarely gives days off. Whenever she has a free moment, she’s asleep. You have holidays and winter and summer breaks.”
“Which I used to work. Had to save up money. And I did several dancing fellowships over the summer months. I think they really helped hone my craft.”
“Did you earn enough money for L.A.?”
Keke nodded. “I already have a place lined up and about six months’ worth of rent.”
“Good. Aren’t you supposed to be working at the summer camp right now?”
“I am. The kids are still asleep. I told Bertie I’d be back in less than an hour. Promised to sneak them in a few goodies.”
“Well, come on back. I’m just finishing some of the bread. Then it’s on to the donuts before the first patrons arrive. They love it when the donuts are warm, straight from the oven.”
“I’ll love it too,” Keke said. “And I’ll even taste-test a few to make sure they’re as good as I remember.”
Kat laughed merrily and guided Keke into the back of the shop where Kat made sugary magic.
It smelled wonderful. Katrina usually started baking around two o’clock in the morning to have enough of the breads and various types of pastries the bakery sold before the shop opened. One summer, she’d asked Keke if she wanted to learn how to bake and work in the shop. Keke had said she’d do it if she wanted to be a fat dancer.
Which she didn’t.
Keke snatched an uniced mini cupcake from the cooling tray when she entered the kitchen. She flicked it into her mouth and groaned. “This is amazing!” She covered her mouth so as not to spit any of it out.
Kat grimaced. “Please don’t touch anything else until you’ve washed your hands. And thank you. It’s a new and improved birthday cake recipe.”
“When are you going to try again?” Keke asked. “With opening your own shop.”
Kat busied herself with kneading dough.
“Kat?” Keke emphasized her sister’s name. “I know you heard me.”
Kat smiled. “And I’m choosing not to answer. You’re here to talk about you and Mother. But first, I want the real reason.”
Here we go. Keke had been avoiding this conversation for months. Sometimes she wouldn’t answer her sister’s calls, and other times she’d change the subject or get off the phone. What did it matter? Their father was dead.
Finally.
End of story.
Moving on.
