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“I could say the same for you,” she says. “I’m grateful that you found your passion in running this bakery. And it’s special that you’re making Missy’s wedding cakes instead of having to import one from the city.” She pauses before continuing, “But I do worry that working at the bakery might limit your chances of finding a husband.”
I take a deep breath and try to sound serious. “Mom, there’s something I need to tell you. Are you ready?”
She hesitates before responding, “Okay…Is this going to be something I won’t like?”
I nod solemnly. “Definitely not.”
She looks at me expectantly as we continue walking in silence, greeting familiar faces along the way.
Finally, I speak up again. “Sometimes wives have to work to help support their families or because they are passionate about what they do. I love what I do, and if my future husband said he wants to be the stay-at-home dad, I would fully support him.”
She looks like I just announced that I am going to get a face tattoo. I give her a second to process as I continue walking in silence, waving at people passing like nothing out of the ordinary is happening.
Then I continue calmly, “I love what I do. I want to work. And working doesn’t mean I’m sacrificing having a family.” I stop and grab her hands, staring straight at her now. “I know you want what’s best for me, Mom. And I appreciate all that you’ve taught me and the morals you’ve instilled in me. I work hard and am capable of taking care of myself. I respect your values and make responsible decisions. But please respect my privacy when it comes to dating. I promise to tell you and Dad if anything significant happens. Okay?”
“I don’t have to like it, you know,” she pouts.
“I know. But please trust that you raised me well, and let me make my own choices. Not what you think is right but what will provide me stability, love, and balance in my life.”
“Fine,” she says. “I think I might need some ice cream after this.”
“I know just the place,” I say with a smile as I link arms with her and lead her to the nearby soda shop.
One strawberry shake later, she seems to be in better spirits. But I know this won’t be the end of this recurring argument. Hopefully, she’ll be so busy with Missy’s wedding planning that she’ll give me a little break. I love her to death, but I can’t handle her playing matchmaker to who she thinks is the perfect son-in-law right now. And this whole thing with Caleb is only adding more stress to the situation.
7
Caleb
This morning, Grandad joined his new friends in town for a round of golf. I didn’t even realize that there is a golf course in Rustic Ridge, but knowing my grandfather’s love for the game, I’m not surprised he found it so quickly. After my morning video conference with the office, I feel relieved to see that everything is running smoothly without me being physically present. We’ve put in a lot of hard work to get to this point, but these are also the most nerve-wracking days: when we start human trials.
Not everyone responds the same way to medications, so we have to meticulously document every little thing and carefully choose our test subjects. When we encounter negative results, like we did in the latest round of testing, it gets stressful. Everyone is hands on deck to figure things out and find a solution. I have to trust my team and let them do what they do best. This is a part of the job that gets to me.
Maybe I’ll take my grandfather’s advice and show some interest in something outside my company. Like the beautiful baker that I can’t seem to get out of my mind. Not since I had her in my arms and not the time after that when I was working at the bakery—which, let’s face it…not much work got done. I don’t know how I want to move forward or what that would look like for us, since, you know, I live in another state. But I want to get to know her more. I want to be around her. I want to make her smile and see her eyes light up when she laughs.
My first stop is the bakery, where I plan to ask Piper for ideas on what to do around town. I’m excited to see her even for just a few minutes. The door chimes as I enter, and I’m greeted by a young, blonde girl who looks like she’s in high school. I glance around but don’t see Piper anywhere.
“Can I help you?” the girl asks, and I feel a pang of disappointment in my stomach.
“I was wondering if Piper is around?” I ask as the girl’s face immediately fills with concern.
“It’s an experiment day,” an older woman whispers as if I should know what that means. “No one risks being around Piper when she’s experimenting.”
I turn back to the girl at the register with a questioning look.
“Was she expecting you?” she asks.
“No, but I was hoping to get to chat with her for a minute,” I reply.
“He’s fine.” I see Mia step from behind the curtains. “Send him back and see if he can stop the flour tsunami,” she teases glancing at me with a little smile.
“Piper is straight back,” the girl tells me.
I slip past the counter just as the girl whispers, “Good luck.”
Sounds a little ominous to me, but I slip behind the curtain anyway. The stainless-steel surfaces shine under the warm glow of the lights. Along one wall are several industrial appliances, while the sink and cleanup station take up the other side. A long island sits in the center of the room with various ingredients and tools scattered across its surface. Standing in front of one of the open stoves is Piper, her silhouette illuminated by the warm light coming from inside the oven.
“Why won’t you rise already?” she angrily whispers.
