If Not For A Bee. Carol Ross

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СКАЧАТЬ excruciatingly painful day... What were they going to do now? How would they get through it without Boston cream pie?

      “Why is it impossible to get another cake?” he asked Lilah.

      “Oh, um, because it’s a special-order dessert.”

      “Can’t you special-make another one?”

      “No,” Lilah said with a sad shake of her head.

      “Why not?” He asked with that same lighthearted tone.

      “I don’t have any more—”

      Janie turned toward him. “Look, I don’t want to be rude but I feel like you’re kind of forcing me to be, so will you please just go away? You can’t fix this.”

      “But I want to and I think—”

      “I think you missed your turn a few thousand miles ago—the beach you’re looking for is south of here. Take a right at Canada and keep driving until you see a sign that says California. Now go... Skedaddle.” She shooed him with a hand and then stooped to put her arm around Gareth.

      “Skedaddle?” His eyes widened as he raised his hands in a defensive gesture. But his lips were twitching like they were all taking part in some big funny practical joke. “Maybe we all need to chill out a little, huh? I was only trying to save the bumblebee.”

      “What?” she snapped. He did not just tell her to chill out...

      “The bee,” he repeated.

      Something dawned on Janie. Bees... Shhh-oot, she thought. Today was Thursday... She squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds. Could this day possibly get any worse? She stood, nudging Gareth to his feet along with her.

      She studied the man now and wished with all of her might that this wasn’t happening. She didn’t know why she still made wishes because she knew very well they didn’t come true. But why couldn’t she have recognized him sooner?

      She sighed and decided to get this over with. “Aidan, right? Dr. Aidan Hollings?”

      “Uh, yeah,” he said, his brows scooting upward with surprise. His eyes narrowed as they traveled over her. “Do I know you?”

      “Sort of.” She attempted a smile. She imagined it looked more like a grimace and really didn’t care. “We’ve met. About two years ago. Your sister is married to my brother. I’m Janie Everett—Bering James’s sister?”

      * * *

      BERING’S SISTER? AIDAN HOLLINGS stared at the woman and absolutely for the life of him could not reconcile his memory of the hausfrau he’d met two years ago with this attractive yet prickly, helicopter mom standing in front of him. This wasn’t Janie. Janie was plain and boring and...quiet. He wanted to laugh out loud, and probably would have if he wasn’t so shocked. The hair color seemed right, though—that shade of deep red was rather unforgettable...and maybe the only characteristic about her that he could clearly recall.

      “Hey,” he said, getting his brain back on track. “Janie, how have you been?”

      “Better,” she answered tightly.

      “What?”

      “I’ve been better.” Her tone was dismissive as she flicked her eyes away.

      She addressed the baker. “Lilah, I’m so sorry about the mess.”

      Lilah smiled sadly. “Don’t worry about it, Janie. I’ll have Isaac clean it up. That’s what we hired him for.”

      Janie checked the watch on her wrist. “We need to go. Thanks so much, Lilah. The cake was beautiful.”

      Gareth looked at Lilah. “I’m sorry about the cake, too.”

      Lilah reached out a hand and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s okay, hon. I’m sorry, too, for you.”

      Janie glanced in Aidan’s general direction but didn’t even try for eye contact. “Bye, I’m sure we’ll see you around, Aidan.”

      Aidan thought these people were getting awfully worked up over a dessert. He watched Janie and her forlorn son trudge down the street like they were headed to a funeral...

      Odd.

      Lilah turned and grasped the door handle.

      “Hey, um, Lilah, right?”

      She spun back around and scowled at him. “Yes.”

      “Why can’t you make another dessert?” he asked again.

      “Because Reagan is lactose intolerant so I made that one with soy milk. Besides, it’s too late. I could never have another one done in time.” She looked near tears as she turned away and ducked back inside the bakery.

      Aidan shivered lightly as a cool breeze swirled around his legs. He stood on the street wishing he would have packed some pants in his carry-on bag and wondering if he’d somehow landed on another planet instead of the remote little town of Rankins, Alaska.

      * * *

      JANIE DID HER best to salvage the evening. She and Gareth swung by the grocery store and picked up a package of festively decorated, dairy-free cupcakes. At least her two-year-old twins would be happy. Gabe had this adorable habit of carefully picking off sprinkles with his tiny fingers one at a time. She mentioned this to Gareth and joked about the mess they would make with the frosting. Her attempts to cheer her oldest son fell disappointingly flat.

      Janie let the silence fill the car as she drove them home. She knew she should say something—offer words of wisdom and comfort. She was a mother—weren’t these things supposed to come to her effortlessly? In natural, normal-type moments they seemed to, but she felt completely inept when it came to this... Probably because there wasn’t anything natural about your husband and the father of your two boys getting killed in the prime of his life while you were pregnant with two more.

      A snap of the fingers and she’d gone from a happily married mother of two with twins on the way to a devastated, grief-stricken widow and single mother of four. And then, as if Cal’s death hadn’t stolen virtually every bit of her joy, a difficult pregnancy had leeched away what little remained. She’d ended up bedridden with preeclampsia, the twins had been born premature, and she’d immediately sunk into that cruel pit of despair known as postpartum depression. She could barely think about that nightmarish time without being overwhelmed with guilt or growing cold with the fear that those feelings might somehow return...

      She pulled into the driveway of their home—the home she and Cal had so lovingly built the year after they were married. They’d been so excited to purchase the property a mere half mile from her mom’s. They’d poured countless hours into constructing the modest Arts-and-Crafts-style house, doing most of the work themselves—with help from family and friends—all the while making plans to fill it with the family they wanted to have. Well, they’d managed to get a good start on the family part before Cal had died. Now it was a struggle to keep up with the care and maintenance the three-bedroom home and the five acres of ground required. She wouldn’t be able to do it at all if it wasn’t for the help of her family.

      She СКАЧАТЬ