Page 2 of Cakewalk

Officer Nelligan let out a little chuckle, seeming to understand. “On these vehicles they are usually part of the undercarriage,” he answered, flicking his finger in an upward motion to indicate where he meant.

“Oh.” How in the world was I supposed to find that?

Squatting down, he leaned over and peered underneath the Jeep. He placed a hand on the ground to balance himself, before shaking his head and popping back up to his full height.

“Well, Miss Hawthorne, it seems you are missing a spare tire.”

“Missing?”

“It’s not uncommon. They climb under the car and cut the cable, and make off with your spare.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake.” She’d known the salesman was shady, but no part of her had thought to ask to make sure a spare tire was included.

“Not to worry. We’re only a couple of miles from town. We’ll get you towed to the gas station and have the guys there take a look and see if they can’t patch your tire. You can hang out in the Busy Bean while you wait.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Sure thing, Miss Hawthorne. Now, you wait in your car so you don’t catch a chill, and I’ll radio in for the tow.”

Gigi simply nodded in response, for the first time noticing the slight chill to the air. It had still been in the mid-seventies in Georgia, which was their usual fall weather. She’d known it would be colder the farther north she got, but she hadn’t been expecting quite the drop in temperature she seemed to be experiencing. Climbing into the car, she pulled out a cardigan that she’d packed in the overnight bag that was in the backseat, hoping it would be enough.

Half an hour later, Gigi found herself sitting in the Busy Bean café, sipping on a cup of coffee. The café was a decent-sized, lodge looking building with large windows that looked out over the river and purposefully mismatched furniture, upholstered in dark, rich colors and funky animal prints, that oddly complemented each other. A plush peach-colored couch sat off to one side, and Gigi thought about how that seemed like a nice spot to curl up and read. The floor was beautiful wide-plank hard wood, the walls were a warm brick color, and the ceiling beams looked like chalk boards. There were fun, snarky sayings written on them, and Gigi couldn’t help but laugh as she read the one right above her—“If I’m silent, I might be furious or maybe I’m just chillin’. May the odds be ever in your favor.” It was the kind of place she would have loved in college, but she and her friends would probably never find their way into now.

She was finally back in cell phone range, but since Officer Nelligan had helped get her car towed to the gas station, it didn’t really matter much. The new prepaid phone looked almost identical to her old one, just a cheaper version. The kid at the store had helped her transfer all her contacts and pictures over, but there wasn’t really anyone to call. Nor could she hop onto social media. That was the part about running away that she knew would be the hardest. Not having any contact with her old life. But if it meant not spending another moment living in fear of her husband, then it was just the burden she’d have to bear.

Gigi picked at the pretzel she’d ordered. It was the first thing she’d eaten since breakfast that day, and she should probably be hungrier than she was, but the events of this afternoon had drained her. There would be more food options when she found her way back to the interstate, and she told herself she would grab a real meal then. She had no idea how long her car would take, and the clock on her phone was telling her it was already four in the afternoon. Doing the math in her head, she figured if her tire was fixed in the next couple of hours, then she could still make Montreal tonight. A quick search had told her she was a good bit off course from the interstate, but that once she was back on the highway, it should only be a few more hours until she was there. It would be late by the time she arrived, but at least the journey would be over.

“You know what I’m dying to add to the menu?” Gigi overheard a woman from the next table over. “More sweets. Now that Crumbs is closed, there isn’t really anywhere selling cakes, and the diner wants no part of it.”

“Are you going to do those in all that spare time you have?” another woman asked with a laugh. “Just add ‘Cake Boss’ on top of running this place, cider, the farm, oh…and being wife and mom.”

“As much as I would like to, it’s not feasible for me to do it, and Roderick has made it clear—he doesn’t decorate cakes. Not that I would want to put one more thing on his plate, so we’d have to find someone. Besides, they’d have to be pretty, and I don’t have the special touch it takes to really decorate a cake.”

“Oh, it’s not that hard,” Gigi said, turning toward the two women. She had no idea where her sudden brazenness came from or why she was inviting herself into their conversation.

Both women looked at her, a little taken aback. Gigi couldn’t tell if she’d overstepped by interrupting or if it was what she had said.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. It just…well, I took a class,” Gigi said, feeling the need to explain herself. “And this master baker taught us all about how to do all the fancy stuff with the fondant and icing. It was easier than I thought! And if I can do it, anyone can!”

“I didn’t even realize such a class existed outside culinary school,” the shorter of the two women said. She was blonde and pretty, with a smile that seemed to light up the whole café. The other woman was tall and slender, with long dark hair that gave her a bit of an edgy look.

“I won it at a charity auction,” she answered. “I think it was a special, one-time thing that this chef did. But it was so much fun! Here, I can show you pictures.” Reaching for her phone, Gigi pulled up some of the photos on her phone and leaned over to show the women. The first photos she pulled up were of a small round cake with white icing. Around the bottom of the cake were bright, multi-colored sprinkles embedded into the icing to look like confetti, while the top played host to light pink colored roses made from buttercream.

“This is so pretty! You did this?” the tall brunette asked.

“I did,” Gigi answered proudly. “Here, this one’s better!” Scrolling a bit in her phone, she found the one she was most proud of.

Handing the phone back to them, she watched as their eyes widened taking in the cake. This one was a little bigger than the last, but still round, and covered in chocolate buttercream. The outside edge of the cake was lined with KitKats, while on top of the cake three little pink fondant pigs were strategically placed to look as if they were bathing in the “mud” of the chocolate buttercream. One pig was sitting in an inner tube, complete with book in hand, while another sat holding a parasol. All that was seen of the third was his rear end poking up out of the frosting.

“That’s adorable!” the brunette said. “Hi, I’m Zara Rossi, and this is Audrey Shipley. We own the Busy Bean.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m GeorgiaGrace, but you can just call me Gigi.”

“Need a job?” Audrey asked, looking back at the pig cake.

“Oh,” Gigi said, startled by the question. She hadn’t meant to volunteer anything. “I’m just passing through. I’m on my way to Montreal.”

“From that accent it sounds like you’re a long way from home. Vacation?”