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Less than twenty minutes later I’m in the bakery, rushing around like a chicken with my head cut off. I do my best to push Westin from my mind but given that the dream I had about him last night is still bouncing around like a pinball, the task proves quite difficult.
As the minutes pass and the cake starts to look more and more like a lighthouse, my mind drifts further. I know it was only a dream. But it was a dream based on a memory. I remember that day. I remember every moment of that day.
I remember the way he looked at me, the things he said. The way he touched me and kissed me just before he pushed himself inside of me for the first time. I remember the way he hovered over me, whispering how much he loved me and how good I felt.
And I remember the way it felt when I found out that he left the next day. I can still feel the shock and disbelief that radiated through me as I walked away from his grandparents’ house after receiving the news.
His grandma was so confused, so sure that he would have told me. I mean, I knew he was planning to go to college, but that was supposed to be in the fall, not at the beginning of summer. I didn't even know that he had been accepted to a specific college, only that he had applied to a few different ones.
I wanted to drop to my knees right there on her front porch, but somehow I managed to hold myself upright.
Westin’s grandparents were older and neither were in the best of health, left to raise their grandchild when their daughter got pregnant at sixteen and the father wanted nothing to do with him. Westin's mom left town after she turned eighteen and up until the time he left for college, had made no attempt to contact him.
I can't help but wonder if Westin ever got to see his mom again. Did she ever see the error of her ways and come back for him? Did she reach out to him when her mother died or four months later when her father died, leaving Westin all alone?
I remember finding out about their passing a couple of months after his grandfather's death. My mom mentioned it casually in a conversation as if it was nothing. But to me, it was so much more than nothing. My heart broke for Westin. No matter how much he had hurt me, the fact remained that after everything, I still loved him. Hell, even now, I can't deny that he will always own a piece of my heart, a piece of me.
“Scarlett,” Kari calls into the kitchen, pulling me back into the present. “Jensen is here with the truck. You about ready?”
I look over my cake, adding a few last minute touches. “I think so. Can you have him come in and help me put it on the cart?” I ask, looking over the size of my masterpiece and knowing there is no way in hell I’m going to be able to even budge this thing on my own.
Two minutes later Kari, Jensen, and I are very carefully loading a four foot tall and two foot wide, lighthouse cake into the back of Jensen’s delivery truck. Even though I’m covered in flour and icing, I insist on riding in the back with the cake.
I refuse to see days of hard work go to waste because Jensen can't slow down at a curve or slams on his brakes because he’s not paying attention.
So after ten nerve-racking minutes in the back of a large delivery truck, we finally reach town hall and I watch as four men carry the cake into the main tent where it will be on display until it is served later this evening.
“Do you need a ride back?” Jensen offers once everything is settled and my work here is done.
“That would be great. Thank you.” I nod, this time climbing into the front cab of the truck.
Jensen scoots into the driver’s seat and smiles at me. I know Jensen well enough to know that he's harmless, even if sometimes I swear he's trying to hit on me. He's a sweet man. Short and stocky with salt and pepper hair and jagged teeth, which honestly kind of adds to his charm. He's been delivering for us for the past couple of years and is someone I know I can count on in a pinch.
“You okay, Ms. Ryan?” he asks, right after pulling up in front of the bakery, clearly sensing that something is off.
“Yeah. Everything is fine, Jensen. Just glad to have that cake there and done.” I sigh, knowing that it's only partially the truth.
“Are you going to be at the festival tonight?”
“I don't really want to, but there’s no way Kari is going to let me out of it. She sees it as a big promotional opportunity, so no doubt she's going to have me walking around with a sign that says I made the cake.” I laugh, but then wonder if that might be something she would actually do.
“Well, maybe I will see you there then.” He tips his head as I open the passenger door and climb out of the truck.
I walk into the bakery on auto pilot and quickly slip into the kitchen where Maria is pulling out a fresh batch of sugar cookies. The smell dances around me and I inhale deeply. There’s nothing like the smell of cookies fresh from the oven.
Heading to the office that sits off to the right side of the kitchen, I poke my head in the door and make sure Kari has everything covered.
“You good if I go get cleaned up?” I wait until she looks up from her mountain of paperwork and meets my gaze before asking.
“Yeah. But do you have a minute first?” She pulls off her reading glasses and tosses them to the side.
“Uh oh. I know that look.” I take a seat in one of the chairs that sits on the opposite side of the desk. “What's up?”
“Westin was here.” The moment the words leave her mouth, my heart takes off galloping inside my chest.
I just assumed after I left him standing in the bakery that he went home. Why is he here? Has he been here this whole time or did he come back?
“You met him? He was here?” I finally manage to force out, watching Kari’s gaze narrow as she nods.
