“Good.” My head snaps up at the mention of his name.
“Has he asked you outyet?” Judith asks.
“What?” I laugh, mostly out of nervous habit. “Why would he do that?”
Judith rolls her eyes and leans across the table. “Because he’s a man and you’re an attractive woman.” She motions at me.
“Judith, you know as well as I do that Charlie and I are just friends,” I say.
There’s a twinkle in her eyes as she smirks at me. It reminds me of Thea the night before.
“Fine, fine,” she says, putting her hands in the air. “I’ll stop meddling. Just friends, you say.”
The air is heavy between us as I repeat her words, “Just friends.”
Maybe if I say it enough, I’ll start to believe it, too.
Thea and I spend the evening after work making homemade pizzas together. I learn that, like her mother, she is not very adventurous with her toppings while mine is stacked high with green peppers, onions, and mushrooms. She tells me about her day, having spent it at the beach again. There’s a tinge of red to her pale skin, no doubt the result of falling asleep on the beach. She is animated as she talks and I breathe a sigh of relief. For the last six months, she’s had a black cloud hanging over her, a storm that wouldn’t pass by. We make plans to go to the beach together over the next couple of days. I haven’t had a proper beach day in ages.
We eat dinner quietly and watch the sunset from the porch before we both retreat to our respective bedrooms. I count my lucky stars that Thea is settling down well in Driftbay. It was a gamble when she said she wanted to move here with me. Part of me is worried that the solitude might worsen her depression, but so far it seems to be having the opposite effect. I can only hope it continues.
I go through my nightly routine — a scalding hot shower and skincare routine before changing into my favorite pajamas. I’m exhausted from not sleeping the night before and am convinced I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.
It’s around midnight when I wake up again. I get up to go to the bathroom and stumble around in the darkness. I’m still groggy when I return to bed but notice light spilling onto the floor from the kitchen. I must have forgotten to turn the light off, something I catch myself doing all the time. I rub at my eyes and yawn as I stumble down the hallway, sleep slowly loosening its grip on me.
Thea is in the kitchen at the sink. She’s dancing around as she washes dishes and lip-syncing with a wooden spoon. She has headphones on, the big, over the head kind. She spins around, mouthing a high note and I can’t help but laugh as I lean against the doorframe and watch her.
The timer on the counter goes off but she doesn’t hear it. She’s too busy lost in her own world. She opens her eyes and it takes a second for her to register that I’m standing in the doorway. She straightens up and rips the headphones off of her head.
“Sorry,” she says, the carefree girl from moments ago vanishing before my eyes. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t,” I say, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to her. “I woke up and saw the light on. I thought I’d left it on earlier.”
A tray of brownies is cooling on the counter, steam rising from them as they cool. They look delicious. I can smell more in the oven and that reminds me that she didn’t hear the timer.
“Your timer went off.” I nod in the direction of it.
“Oh!” Thea grabs a couple of potholders and opens the oven, reaching for the second tray of brownies. She sets them on a cooling rack on the counter before adding, “I couldn’t sleep and baking helps.”
I remember right after Caroline died when she didn’t sleep for three days. All the kid did was bake. She would barely talk to anyone, but everyone that came by to offer condolences was sent away with a baked good. She made muffins, scones, brownies, cookies, everything you can imagine. She didn’t stop until I physically made her and then she collapsed in my arms and cried, finally letting her emotions out.
“You don’t have to explain to me. I get it. Baking helps with my insomnia, too.” I inhale the chocolatey aroma, twisting through the kitchen like ribbons in the air. “Those smell amazing. Kid after my own heart.”
Thea beams. “I thought maybe you could take them to the diner in the morning. Share them with Raquel and Graham, and the rest of the staff. Maybe the customers, too.”
“That’s a great idea.” I smile as she pushes up her sweatshirt sleeves. She goes back to washing her dishes and cleaning up as I add, “I’m going back to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She nods as she washes a bowl. “Good night,” she calls over her shoulder.
I watch her and feel my heart leap in my chest. I don’t stop myself when the urge to hug her hits.
“‘Night, kid.” I kiss the top of her head before I turn and head back to bed.
Thea is asleep the next morning when I go to leave, but her brownies are neatly plated and covered in tinfoil, waiting for me on the counter. There’s a note across the top of them, her neat handwriting scribbled across it.
For being so kind to me,she’d written.
I grab the plate and hurry out of the house. I’ve overslept and am running late. Graham and Raquel are off this morning but Brian and Penny will be there. Brian is another one of my cooks. He’s good, not as good as Graham, but enough that it keeps my customers happy and coming back. Penny is sunshine in human form. I’ve only known her a short time but can already tell that she is a sweetheart and sees the absolute best in people. Charlie and I were both very pleased with her interview.
