Page 68 of Bringing Home the Bacon
“And I don’t let men dictate what I do,” I say firmly.
“You sure about that?” Impossibly, Ginny’s tone inches even higher. “You said you wanted to be a writer, then boom! You accepted the first teaching job a man offered you.”
“I was twenty-two years old. It was a decent-paying job for me at the time,” I press. “And who cares if the person who hired me was a man or a woman?”
Ginny continues. “You said you wanted to live on your own, then boom! Your grandpa dies, and your brothers convince you to come back to Bedd Fellows to take care of Gran.”
“They didn’t convince me. I offered.”
She’s on a roll with her deconstruction of me, and she doesn’t show any signs of stopping. “You said you wanted a fun day in the city, then boom?—”
“Will you please stop saying boom!?” I plead, more exasperated by the minute.
“Boom! You get pregnant! Now here you are living with a man you barely know, supporting his restaurant dream, bearing his children, allowing him to make the decisions on how to save your family farm. You’re basically living for him.” Ginny finally pauses. She cocks her head to the side, studying me. “I dunno. It’s just interesting.”
“What’s interesting?” a deep voice resonates from the doorway.
The “him” in question stands there looking as gorgeous as ever. But after Ginny’s rant, I’m having a hard time looking at him.
I avert my eyes and catch my reflection in the shiny windows over the sink. Turns out I’m having a tough time looking at myself too.
Cautiously, Bacon asks, “What’s going on, ladies?”
“Oh, nothing,” Ginny says cheerfully. “Just girl talk. Is it time for the ice cream?”
Bacon’s eyes are on me, but he responds slowly to Ginny. “Uh, yeah. That’s what I was coming in to check on.”
“Allow me!” Ginny chucks the last bit of her spaghetti bowl into the trash and takes hold of the ice cream cart. “I’m happy to wheel this baby around and serve everyone their ice cream.”
“That’s uh – that’s very helpful, thank you,” Bacon says, his eyes still trying to make contact with mine. “Sam and Diane are right outside. Alex and Molly too. They’ll help you distribute to the participants.”
“Not a problem,” Ginny says. “Congrats on the successful venture, you two.”
With that, she’s gone.
But I’m standing here.
Still as a statue.
Not knowing who the hell I am anymore.
“What was that all about?” Bacon asks.
“Nothing,” I say and finally surge into action, moving to the door. “We should get outside and help serve the ice cream. We’re the ones running this thing and – ”
He blocks my path to the door. “Colleen. What’s going on? What just happened?”
“I told you. Nothing happened.”
“So why do you look and sound so upset?” He places his warm hands gently on my shoulders.
“Can we just drop this, please?” I beg, fighting the tears forming in my eyes.
“Drop what? What are we dropping?”
I try to step around him. He doesn’t let me go.
“Can you please move?” I demand.
