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But was I going to enjoy myself and do it anyway?
Yes.
I’d tell him about the break-up while we were at the diner, I resolved to myself.He should know.He’d probably already realized that this wasn’t going to go anywhere after I got back on the plane to London, but it sure wouldn’t hurt to spell it out.For my sake, if no one else’s, seeing as I seemed incapable of rational thought around Rick Callahan.
After waving him off, I took pictures of his estimate and sent them to Jess, then sat down to try to compose the post about Seb.
It took a few hours, andseveralbags of crisps, but by the time bedtime rolled around, I had something I was happy with.
Hello from the other side of the Pond!
Many of you have commented on my recent videos or emailed me to ask about why Mr.Maddie, as I call him, isn’t over here with me.
I’ll be here in Kentucky for a few weeks, helping my aunt to run the bakery she and my cousin own,Cake Away.I’ll link to the website further down if you’d like a little peek!
I’ve been keen to work in a bakery somewhere other than the UK for a while, and my cousin Jess has offered a few times now.
Just before I flew out here, I broke up with Mr.M.
Some things have happened between us that I can’t get past, so he won’t be making any more cameos.
In the wake of this, I needed to get away and clear my head.
I’ve responded to those of you who have order queries, but don’t hesitate to hop into my DMs or email me via the website if you want to book in a future order.I’ve updated the website calendar for when I’ll be back in the kitchen, and taking your orders.I look forward to them.
I’ve got a busy weekend coming up—my first Stateside food shop and then a baseball game—but I’ll also be uploading another baking video as well, for my twist on a Lane cake, invented by Emma Rylander Lane in the 1880s, right here in the US.
Bye for now, and thank you for your support.
I added a few pictures I had taken while here, mostly of the bakery, one with my aunt smiling behind the counter, another early in the morning.The final one was of the view down Otter street.The sun had been shining prettily, catching on the bakery windows.
ChapterEleven
Jenny
Jenny had managed to feed Toby four whole spoons of porridge, when Rick dragged himself into the kitchen, muttering “Mornin’.”
“You’ve slept well, then?”she teased.
Her brother pushed a hand through his thick, tawny hair.“Feel like I’ve been hit by a damn train.”
Jenny’s heart softened.“Bad dreams?”
He jerked a shoulder as he stood by the coffee machine.“Some.”
He probably hadn’t fully dealt with his experiences in the US Army, Jenny knew.He’d had some therapy after deciding not to re-enlist, but she knew he’d lost more than a few friends under traumatic circumstances.Had he dealt with it?It was often hard to tell under the charming, rough–and-tumble, easy exterior he showed the world.
She wasveryhappy that he attended a veterans’ group every Sunday.
Not everyone in his unit did.
Some had been lost.
“Anything I can do?”Jenny asked.
He started to speak, then turned to face her, clearing the sleep from his throat.There was a big sleep-crease on his left cheek, and she was suddenly reminded of their childhood, when he used to build pillow forts for her, to keep out the monsters that she thought lived in the dark corners of the house.
He’d stay with her until she fell asleep, safe in the impenetrable bedsheet walls her big brother had constructed.
