“Melissa has already started. She’s great, but I have to do the cupcakes, Griff. Just the cupcakes…” She looks at me with pleading eyes.
“Fine. Show me how,” I tell her, dropping her feet slowly to the floor.
Head tilting, she looks at me, unsure. “You want to learn how to ice my cupcakes?”
“Someone better. Who’s going to ice them when you need to rest?” I ask, because as resilient as she is, I don’t know if she fully understands how having a baby works. She isn’t going to be able to be on her feet all day and night straight after birth.
“Okay…” she says tentatively, and she takes my hand, leading me to the counter.
“Cakes, icing, spatula. I make my own swirl design, like this.” Grabbing her things, she takes a small dollop of icing and swirls it on the small cake. I frown, the flick of her wrist seemingly a quirk, giving her an extra little lift to the icing, making it look sophisticated and surprisingly decorative for such a simple thing.
“Here. You try.” She pushes over a cupcake and the bowl, and I give it a try.
I make a mess of the first one, and the second. Dainty is something I’m not.
“Why don't you try this way?” She swaps the spatula and gives me a slightly smaller one, and it has the desired effect. I swirl on the icing like she does and turn my wrist at the right second and get the little lift.
“Got it.” I’m surprisingly proud of myself. Clearly all those years of working with plaster and render is transferrable. I do a few more, happy that I’ve got the hang of it.
Her grin brightens her whole face. “Brilliant, only about a hundred to go.”
“A hundred?” My eyebrows rise.
“Yeah, I’m doing extra-large batches. This batch here, I’ll freeze, so when the baby comes, I don’t have to bake so much.”
I nod as we work side by side, glad she’s thought about it.
“Making anything else? There might be a few days when you can’t bake,” I push, wondering if she has a contingency plan.
“Yeah, pies and buns are all things I’ll make extra of as the days go on. I got a large freezer from Bob at the hardware store so that’s come in handy. But I’m staying hopeful that my little one will let me get some baking time in at least the week after I give birth, whenever that is.”
“Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?” I ask, intrigued.
“No. I thought I would keep that as a surprise. A reward for all the hard work, you know.” She smiles with a shrug.
The soft way she says it has me wanting to pull her into my arms. “I think that’ll be quite the reward.”
When I glance at her, she’s already looking at me, something in her expression I can’t quite place.
“How is Sundown Valley going?” I haven’t had this before. Working and talking with someone you’re getting to know. Them wanting to learn about me, and me wanting to learn about them.
I blow out a breath. “It’s a big project. It's going to take months. A few new cottages on their estate, a larger winery to accommodate growing tourist numbers and tastings. They’re a big family, with lots of money, and are growing rapidly. They have their eyes on global expansion. Just like Tanner here in Whispers, but bigger. They have lots of ideas, and a few of them are butting heads over it. There’s always something going on.”
She giggles, the sound shooting through my chest.
“Sounds like a sitcom.”
“It feels like it sometimes. But the Stonemore family makes really fucking great wine.”
“What do you prefer, wine or whiskey?”
“Whiskey. But I do love a deep red too and Stonemore makes a brilliant one,” I tell her easily. The older I get, the more I appreciate the finer things of life, even though I grew up with none of them.
“As a kid, I remember sneaking into the church’s supply room and stealing a sip of the communion wine,” she admits as she ices three cupcakes to my one. I pause, looking at her, and her face is riddled with guilt and a small hint of mischievousness.
“Really?” I imagine her being a Goody Two-shoes, always on her best behavior.
Her face drops a little. “My sister dared me.”
