Page 2 of More Than I Can Bear

Little. Mess.

Her son, whose name was Tarquin, turned around and shot me a brilliant gummy smile, the likes of which only young children high on sugar can pull off. I smiled back at him and shook my head, stepping forward, but Blue Eyes wouldn’t budge when I tried to take the brush and pan from him.

“It’s Freya,” I corrected gently, while trying to pull the brush out of the guy’s hand “and I’ll—”

“Be getting back to work,” Blue Eyes said to me, firmly, looking at me intently before turning back to the woman at the table. “Andyou’llclean up afteryourchild.”

As if in response, Tarquin dumped the rest of his banana bread on the floor. He giggled then, when he realised that it was gone, promptly burst out crying.

“I…” The mother let out a hiss of frustration. “It’s OK, darling. Mummy’ll get you another one.”

“Mummy needs to model how to behave in a cafe. And that if you make a mess, you clean it up yourself,” Blue Eyes insisted as the woman hauled Tarquin onto her lap. And, damn me, she actually pouted.

“Look, you’ve got no idea how hard—”

“What’s going on? Is there a problem?” I turned around to find the cafe’s owner, Amber, standing behind me. She eyed the mess on the floor with a dark look, then turned that look on the mother. “Felicia. We talked about this last time. I don’t pay my staff to clean up after little baby Tarquin.” Then she turned her attention to the toddler. “And how are you, little man?” Her tone went from brusque to cooing in seconds. Tarquin rewarded her with a brilliant smile. That seemed to mollify his mother, for a second. Amber kept talking to the little boy in her baby-whisperer voice. “You didn’t mean to make all that mess, but it’s time to pack away, pack away…”

Amber sang a song to ease the process, and Tarquin’s smile got wider and wider as he totally forgot about the banana bread debacle. While he was thoroughly entertained by Amber, Felicia ended up sliding him onto the seat, then grabbing the brush from Blue Eyes.

“It takes a village to raise a child, you know,” she said, looking up at him with a touch of resentment.

“And a village helpsallof its members, so that no one’s life is made harder by those around them,” he replied, dropping the dustpan down on the table.

I stood, watching in disbelief as the whole scene unfolded, with my eyes flicking between them all. People who thoughtlessly made a mess in the cafe—without at least attempting to clean it up—always made me see red. At least Tarquin had the excuse of low impulse control because of his age. Felicia, however… She really had no excuse and I couldn’t help but feel a small degree of glee as she picked up the dustpan then turned to look at the floor as though unsure where to start. But I was robbed of the sight of this quite posh woman cleaning up in my stead when Blue Eyes turned around and walked toward me, steering me back towards the counter.

“Thanks, man,” Amber said, having got Tarquin interested in one of the kids’ books we kept at the cafe for the very purpose of distracting bored toddlers. She interrupted the blue-eyed guy’s progress by sticking out her hand for him to take. He stopped herding me along to shake it. “And you are?”

“Kaine,” he replied, his voice so deep and rich I think both of us felt a little shiver.

“Kaine, thanks for standing up for my staff. I’m usually on top of things like this, but I got caught up with baking muffins. Shit!” Her eyes widened. “The muffins! Freya, get the man a piece of banana bread or a bacon and egg toastie for his trouble. On the house!”

We both watched her rush back into the kitchen, the doors swinging on their hinges in her wake.

“So… banana bread or bacon and egg?” I asked, still feeling a little unnerved by his actions. I watched him draw in a breath, and I guessed he was going to reject the offer, so I shook my head. “You’ll have to choose one, otherwise Amber will chase you down the road with it. Actually she’d probably make me do it.”

“You’d chase after me waving baked goods in the air?” he asked, a small smile forming on his lips. “I’m not sure I’d run away from that.”

“Right,” I said, then smiled hopefully. “So… one of each? You could give what you don’t want to your friend.”

I nodded to the massive man currently bent over a notepad, his pen working furiously.

“Riv?” That… wasn’t a name I knew, but I tried not to look like I had no idea what he’d just said. “Yeah, he’ll go a bit of banana bread. And if you could rustle me up a B&E—with tomato sauce, please—I’d be very appreciative.”

“One banana bread and one B&E, with sauce: coming right up,” I said, hightailing it away from this confusing guy.

And that’s when I realised something. Most days, I lamented the fact that I felt damn near invisible, but today was the first time I craved exactly the anonymity that was my norm. My skin still felt like it was rubbed raw from Saturday night, but in a good way, a sensual way. And at the same time, my nerves were too alive, my steps had too much spring to them. When I charged into the kitchen, I felt as though my eyes must have looked wild as I put the order in with Amber.

“Can I get a B&E—?”

“Already on it,” she said, sliding several rashers of bacon, perfectly cooked, onto the pillowy soft rolls she made in-house before opening every morning. She topped each roll with an egg before wrapping them up gently. The yolks would still crack, but apparently people liked it like that. “And grab the fresh banana bread, not the stuff already wrapped up.”

I rapidly detoured away from the walk-in fridge, picking up a bread knife and slicing into the still-warm loaf.

“Butter!” she shouted as she cracked countless eggs along the grill, then laid down more bacon.

I diligently swiped the butter knife across each slice and then bundled them up into greaseproof paper before bagging everything and heading back out to the cafe.

“She really didn’t need to do this,” Kaine said, with a grin, but when he smelled her cooking, his eyes grew hungry. “Though I think I’ll have half the building site down here for lunch if this tastes as good as it smells.”

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