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Martha came back to see how everything was going, and to ask if Linley was going to have time to work on a wedding cake. Her dad, Mitch, lumbered through with a massive bag of flour over his shoulder and grunted at me. He didn’t speak much but made the best bagels in the entire world.
Once she’d dealt with her parents, Linley turned her attention back to me as she washed her hands. She pulled a container down from a shelf and shoved it toward me. She always saved a few extras for me when I came over. I had to convince her constantly that I was friends with her not just because she gave me free delicious treats.
“All I can think about are all the ways this isn’t going to work out the way you think it’s going to work out. What if she just turns you down?” she asked.
I opened the container to find lemon sandwich cookies. They were so sweet and tart they were going to make my teeth hurt, but I didn’t even care.
“Are you doubting my powers of seduction?” I said, before sinking my teeth into one of the cookies. Perfection. I licked the powdered sugar from my lips.
“No, but if she doesn’t want to date you, then this whole thing is going to fall apart.”
“I’m not going to date her, I’m just going to bang her and gloat about it.”
Linley gave me a look as she started the rolling process. “I mean, do what you want, but I don’t have a whole lot of confidence in this master plan.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re supposed to support me. You’re my best friend.”
“I don’t have to support you when you’re doing something ridiculous.”
She picked up the sharpest knife in the kitchen that would cut through the dough without crushing it. I’d seen her do this complete process so many times. She’d never once let me help, and I’d stopped asking many years ago. It made sense. I’d probably come up with some shitty looking rolls that they wouldn’t be able to sell.
“You supported me when I tried to do my own mermaid hair,” I pointed out.
Linley let the knife slide through the dough and then turned the newly formed roll onto its side and set it on the baking sheet.
“And how did that turn out? Your tub is still purple.”
I snatched a second cookie from the tub. “That’s not the point.”
She pressed her lips together and didn’t say anything else, which I guess was her way of supporting me. I’d take it.
Martha bustled back and handed me a box. “I made you a sandwich and threw a few other little things in there.”
“Thanks, Martha,” I said, taking the bag. Linley looked up when her mom didn’t immediately leave the kitchen and continued to hover.
“So, you up to anything this weekend? Going out?” Her eyes went from me to Linley and back.
When Linley didn’t answer, I did. “Maybe. We hadn’t talked about it yet.”
“Well, you should. It’s good for you to go out.” This comment was directed at Linley. It was her mother’s fondest wish for her to find someone to marry, or at least be with for the long-term. She was also desperate for grandchildren, but one step at a time.
I watched Linley’s jaw clench. Honestly, her mom was being sweet, but I could see it from Linley’s side as well. At least her mom wasn’t pushing her to get back with her shitty ex like mine had done for weeks after my breakup.
When neither of us said anything else, Martha left and Linley sighed the longest sigh.
“She’s really ramped up the relationship pressure, huh?” I questioned. Linley started cutting the cinnamon rolls a little more viciously.
“I get it,” she said, arranging the rolls on the tray so she could let them rise a second time. “She doesn’t want me to be alone, but I’m just like, I can’t have a relationship very easily when I’m up at 4 am making bread nearly every morning. I’m fucking tired.” She slammed her hands down on the counter. “I’m so fucking tired.”
I could tell. Even her voice was weary. I hopped off my stool and put my arms around her.
“Hey, it’s okay. You deserve more time off. Do you want to come over tonight and I’ll make you dinner? Or I can bring dinner to your place.” She’d recently gotten her own apartment in the swanky new building in town. Her mom hadn’t taken the move well, and I think that was what was responsible for most of the increased helicopter parenting activity.
Linley gave me a weak smile. “Dinner that I don’t have to make sounds great.”
“I’ll bring it to you,” I said. “Wear your onesie and I’ll be there at seven.”
She gave me a thumbs up and went back to slicing. Figuring I should probably get out of her hair, I gave her another hug and grabbed my treats and waved goodbye to Martha.
