The girl with gum in her hair

What is it about the smell of chocolate baking in the oven, the feel of flour on the palms of your hands, the warmth of the oven in the air and the sound of the electric mixer as it vibrates and works the dough? I feel a sense of calm from it.

Today I am celebrating five years in business, as the sole owner and head baker of Red’s Sweet Treats.

You are probably wondering where the name came from. I come from a big family, one with lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Even though I consider them family, I was adopted. Born with red hair and green eyes and raised by a family of tall, dark haired, brown eyed Italians, I stuck out a little. Naturally my nickname was Red, and from there the business name grew.

I have a brother who is two years older; Frankie, who shocked the family when he came home from college with his boyfriend Paul. Frankie is also my best friend and partner in crime. He and Paul recently got married and moved to Chicago. Frankie was the one who stood up for me when I was picked on in school for being different and adopted. I always knew Frankie was gay, and when he came out to my parents, I was there holding his hand and calming my father down.

Then there’s my older sister Abby, one year older than me. Her lawyer friends call her Abigail, and so does her heart surgeon boyfriend, Dan. Abby has resented me her whole life. My parents said they were done having kids after Abby, but, I showed up. To make matters worse, I was a bit of a tom boy, and Abby... well, Abby was a princess.

So that’s my family. Later tonight they will all be in my bakery celebrating my five years in business. Along with a couple of friends, my staff’s family members, our neighborhood business owners, the mayor, and my landlord.

Ok, so I should be excited that the mayor is coming and yes having my boyfriend of two years here is important as well, but I have a secret, I’m excited my landlord is coming. Well, his son actually.

Grant and I have known each other since middle school. He stood up in front of my whole sixth grade science class and told the mean girls that they were going to regret picking on me, because I was going to grow up and be a super model and they were still going to be the same stupid ugly girls. Grant was one of the most popular boys in school, especially in High School. He was the guy every girl wanted to date, and every guy wanted to be. I will admit I always have had a crush on him, ever since sixth grade. His piercing blue eyes and perfect mousy brown hair, along with a big, beautiful smile and fit body, I’d be crazy not to find him attractive. But we were always friends and I never ever have told him how I feel.

His father is getting older, and is wanting Grant to take over the business, which is why he's attending my event at his building tonight. He doesn’t know that I’m the tenant, and I only know he’s coming, because his father told me. I’m nervous. I’m fighting an internal battle with myself about what to wear and that I need to behave because Grant is engaged to some little blonde thing. Plus, what’s the point, he’s never thought of me as anything more than his awkward freckled frumpy friend.

I sigh and then get that feeling. Yep, the cupcakes are done. I pull them out of the oven, and they are perfect. As I contemplate whether to make the mini cheesecakes or the fruit tarts first my phone rings.

I hear my staff; April answer the phone and I start throwing ingredients together for the cheesecakes.

A few hours later and my staff and I have made an assortment of confections laid out beautifully for our guests.

I’m standing in my robe with my hair half dried and only foundation on my face, trying desperately to decide what to wear when there’s a knock on my door. Answering the door I smile, it’s Frankie and Paul. Frankie told me he couldn’t make it, but here they are.

“You’re here! Thank God! You’re here!” I say as I hug him tightly.

“I’d say. Honey, what’s happening here?” He says smiling and gesturing to my robe and disheveled hair.

I give Paul a hug before I am quickly ushered into my own bedroom, where Frankie digs through my closet and Paul goes to work on my hair.

An hour later I have shiny, soft loose curled hair, my green eyes pop out from sparkly eyeshadow. I have been slid into a sexy black dress and a pair of black lace heels that my lovely Frankie has brought me as a gift from Chicago. I feel pretty and suddenly very nervous. Together we head downstairs, and I check all the finishing touches on the tables. My staff are lined up in their uniforms, and everything looks amazing.

April comes over and whispers, “There’s a line outside and it’s not all your family.”

She’s right I look out and there’s a line almost around the entire block. We advertised the celebration and invited people to come and have a free sample, but oh my, I don’t know if we have enough samples. Frankie places a hand on my arm and says, “Honey, running out of food is a good thing, have them come back tomorrow.”

I open the doors and welcome everyone inside, led by the mayor.

Soon I am hugging people, answering questions, passing out cards and order forms, people are eating and drinking and laughing. An hour has gone by, and I have not seen Grant.

The mayor is talking to me about some fundraiser event he is attending and how he wants to suggest me to cater the dessert. All while his mouth is full and his eyes are on my breasts. Since he’s the mayor I stand there and smile and take it.

Thankfully a familiar booming voice from behind me says, “Maggie?”

I excuse myself and turn around to see the large form of Ed, my landlord, smiling at me.

“How are you Mr. O’Brien?”

“Oh, Maggie dear, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Ed? Mr. O’Brien makes me sound terribly old. But well done my dear, this place looks fantastic. I have never seen so many people lining up for cake.”

“Thank you, Ed. But I had help, I say gesturing to my staff.”

“Always modest, and I must say, you look lovely my dear.”

“Thank you, Ed. Where’s your son?”

But before he can answer we are interrupted by the mayor’s secretary who is ushering me to the front of the crowd, so that the mayor can publicly thank me for my business.

I hate speaking in front of people, I hate being the center of attention. So, when the mayor hands me a plaque honoring five years of business, butterflies start doing back flips in my stomach. Then when I hear someone shout, “Speech!” and I really want to go hide. Instead, I smile and search for Frankie in the crowd.

Right there, next to Frankie is the most handsome, perfect specimen of a man I have ever seen. Blue sparkling eyes meet mine as a huge smile spreads across his face. I feel myself blush and then remember there are other people here, so I turn back to Frankie.

“Wow. Thank you everyone for coming. It’s been a journey to make it to five years of business, and they say the first five years are the hardest and most exciting. I’m sure my staff can tell you some stories. I have to say I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for them, and for every person in this room. So, thank you, all of you, and please eat, drink and come back tomorrow as a paying customer!”

This gets some laughs and a round of applause.

I see Frankie in the crowd and walk toward him.

“Red, that was great. Mom cried a little.” Frankie says smiling.

“Thanks…” I trail off looking around Frankie.

“He’s over there talking to the mayor, and he’s not alone.”

I follow Frankie’s finger to find Grant standing with the mayor and holding his arm is a tiny blonde. She’s maybe 5’2” with a perfect tiny waist, and as Tony would say, a big rack, all shown off in a pink dress. My heart sinks a little.

I find myself staring at Grant, wishing I was good enough.

I must have been staring hard because he turned his head and waved at me, and before I knew it, he was hugging me.

“Maggie! How long has it been? This is amazing. You look great and this place is beautiful.” Grant says holding me at arm’s reach. I forgot how perfectly comfortable he makes me feel as soon as he opens his mouth.

“It has been a long time. But we are being rude. “Hi, I’m Maggie.” I say with my best impression of a polite person type smile, as I turn to Barbie.

Okay so her name’s not Barbie, and to be completely honest I don’t remember what her name is, only that she looks a little plastic, and had a huge rock on her left ring finger.

The rest of the event goes by in a blur, although it was successful. We ended up with orders for events, spread over the next three months. Frankie and Paul stayed with me, and we spent the night drinking wine and d talking about gorgeous Grant.

The best part of living above my store though, is that I can walk down in my comfiest jeans and a t-shirt, and once I throw on my chef coat, no one is the wiser.

I throw on those ratty jeans and a t-shirt with a pair of converse that I’ve had since high school.

I leave Paul and Frankie passed out on the sofa bed and head downstairs. It’s 6am and my staff won’t be in for another hour. The bakery looks like a party happened, although we cleaned some of the mess, the trash cans are full, and the floor is filthy.

I tie my hair in a messy top knot and throw on my chef coat.

As the first cake is baking in the oven, I grab the broom and trash bags and head out onto the floor. I plug my headphones in my ears and put on some classic rock. The sweeping becomes more like a dance and after a while I find that I’m singing out loud. I stop and look around, remembering that I have sleepy hungover guests upstairs. Thankfully all is quiet, but as I turn around and start dancing again, I notice someone standing outside the front door watching me through the window with a big smile on his face. I immediately blush and give a shy wave.

“We’re not open yet, sorry.” I say as I open the door.

“Oh, that’s too bad, because I was hoping to get a cinnamon muffin, I hear this place is so famous for.” Grant says smiling with that perfect heart melting grin.

“Come on I’ll get you one. Coffee?”

“No thanks, do you have any black tea?”

“You’re not a coffee drinking either?” I ask as I lead him back to the kitchen. I am suddenly very aware of my less than sexy jeans and my messy hair.

“Hey, are those the same black converse you wore all through senior year?”

“Yeah, still a total nerd.” I respond trying not to look at him.

“Hey, I’ve always liked that about you. You’re not alone, I still have my red ones although Christie doesn’t let me wear them when I’m out with her.”

Barbie is Christie, ok say Christie not Barbie… mental note.

“I think you and your converse should stay where they are appreciated. But I guess I should take my own advice too.”

Is it me, or was that a flicker of something in his face? Jealousy maybe, no, come on he has Barbie. Err, I mean Cheryl. What’s her name again?

“What are you doing up so early and paying me a visit? Not that I’m complaining, I’m glad you came by, just didn’t expect you to be up this early.”

“I’m usually up early, and I felt like we didn’t really get to talk last night, so I took the chance that you’d be up too.”

“I’m glad you took the chance. I’m glad to see you again, it’s been ages. I hear you are taking over the business. Does that mean you are moving back to the bay area?”

“Yep. Just bought a house not too far from here actually.”

“Congrats. So does, (shit what’s her name) the future Mrs. O’Brien... Is she umm, excited about moving here?”

“Honestly? No. Christie was born and raised in LA and loves it there, she’s not happy at all and wants me to relocate the business to LA. But I think once she sees the house, she’ll be happy.”

“Wait so you bought the house without her?”

“Yeah... I umm, well. I want to keep the business here and we aren’t married yet... so she can back out if she wants.” He says this whole thing looking at his muffin.

I don’t quite know what to say so I pour a cup of tea and check the cakes in the oven.

“Maggie.” He says quite seriously.

It’s the tone you use when you want someone’s undivided attention because you need to tell them something important. You know, like, “I love you,” “I’m pregnant” or “I’m dying of cancer.”

With my heart beating just a little bit faster I look at him, “yes?”

“I have to say you missed your calling, you have some sweet dance moves.”

We both start laughing and I throw a towel at him.

“Looks like the party is still going… what’s happening here?” Frankie says walking in, Paul behind him.

“Any more of those muffins?” Paul asks. The four of us spend the next half hour catching up while I bake cakes. It was just like senior year of high school sitting under the tree at lunch. Frankie talking about how ridiculous the uniforms are, and Grant making us all laugh while every girl in school tried desperately to get his attention. I was heartbroken when I learned that one of those girls got his attention and we lost our lunch buddy. I never did find out why they broke up, but he was with her until right before graduation.

Barbie called Grant and he had to leave. Before he left, he hugged me and promised we would hang out again.

Frankie wanders back downstairs around 4:30 and informs me that our mother has reminded him four times to make sure I bring brownies or something to Sunday dinner tomorrow, and then suggests that we go to the wine bar down the street. But only if I shower and change out of my frumpy Maggie clothes first.

We have a lot of wine and a little cheese, I get very drunk and pass out as soon as we get home.

I wake up to the sound of hushed voices in my kitchen. I peek my head out and check my phone. It’s 8am and I have three missed calls, four frantic texts and a voicemail from my mother. A couple of texts from Frankie and one text from Grant. His was the last one, this morning around 7:15. I groan as I remember his shiny, plastic girlfriend, and then roll back over hiding under the covers again.

Eventually my stomach rumbles reminding me that it needs more than wine. I decide I better get up.

I venture out into the living room where I see Frankie standing in the kitchen but no sign of Paul.

Thankfully the bakery is closed today so I have all day to be hungover before going to my parents for dinner.

“Where’s Paul?” I ask as Frankie hands me a cup of tea.

“Paul is out shopping so you and I can have some time together. ”

We watch Bridget Jones’ Diary and eat junk. We talk about smug Abby and how horrible it’s going to be at dinner with her and stupid perfect Dan.

Then we talk about gorgeous Grant and his plastic Barbie and of course analyze everything.

About 2:15pm, I realize that I haven’t made anything for dessert, and I still need to shower. I run downstairs and quickly throw together a lemon loaf and shove it in the oven. I set a reminder on my phone and jump in the shower. I quickly pat myself dry and wrapped in a robe I head downstairs to check the lemon loaf. It’s perfect. I dust some powdered sugar on it and leave it to cool.

When I get upstairs, Paul is there with bags from shopping and he’s showing Frankie his finds.

I can only assume Frankie has filled Paul in on my evening, because when Paul sees me, he hugs me and kisses my wet hair.

“Ok, now honey, I bought you a little something that is going to make you look fierce.”

He hands me a large bag. Before I can say thank you, but you didn’t have to, he pushes me toward my bedroom and says, “Thank me after you put it on.”

It’s a simple flowy, black sun dress with little red and pink flowers on it. I saw it weeks ago when I was shopping and on the phone with Frankie. I put it on, and I feel pretty. It’s soft and compliments my curves and it’s modest enough that my mother will approve. I do minimal makeup, but with a little extra mascara to help my eyes look a little more alive. I wear my hair in its natural state, enhancing the curls just a little.

When I walk out Frankie and Paul stand there smiling, and I say, “thank you.”

Sunday dinners at my parents are a big to do, and a weekly requirement when you live within driving distance. There’s pasta, salad, bread, roasted meat, wine, beer, and whatever dessert I bring along.

When we arrive, Abby, and Dan are already there. Abby is telling my dad about a big case she is working, and my mother is bellowing about “why weren’t you there for Maggie...” Oh boy. This should be interesting. As we enter, my dad stops Abby mid-sentence and stands up exclaiming, “There she is! The best baker in town!”

Abby rolls her eyes and plasters a fake smile on her face as she tells me, “Sorry I missed it.”

“No worries, we missed you. But I brought a lemon loaf, I know how much you like it.”

I go into the kitchen to offer to help, which I know I’ll be shooed away from.

After dinner I head to the kitchen and start dish duty.

“You know I heard that Ed O’Brien’s boy knocked a guy out in a bar last night.” my dad says standing in the kitchen doorway.

This can’t be true. “What? Are you sure? Grant? I went to school with him He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” I try my best not to sound hopeful.

My mother convinces Frankie and Paul to spend the night so that they have more quality time together. I head home on my own, with leftovers and promises to call if I need anything the sun is just starting to set on the summer evening. It’s such a beautiful night, I hate to just go home. So, I don’t, I drive to my happy place. It’s this little community park. It’s really supposed to be for the people who live around it and it’s even gated. But I found it once in eighth grade when I was running away from some bullies. The gate is broken, and it’s peaceful there. There’s a giant willow and some jacarandas with their smelly purple flowers. There’s a bench under the willow tree that was dedicated to Pearl from Thomas, her loving husband. I always felt solace sitting under that tree. Only two people know about my little garden hide out, Frankie and Grant. The summer before high school I would hide there a lot, I was nervous about high school and the new set of bullies I’d be facing. One day, Frankie followed me there and it became his spot too. Anytime one of us felt sad, this is where we came and always knew we could find each other here.

Sitting on the bench now I’m reminded of the night Grant found me here. It was a week before our senior prom, and I had found out he had asked Alice Cooper. She was the one that caught his eye the second week of school. She was the one he dated all year, but they had broken up because she told him she needed to keep her options open for college. He was heartbroken. I was there for him. Now he was taking her to prom. I never liked Alice, she was snobby and in fifth grade she put gum in my hair.

I sat there sobbing. I was angry Grant picked her. I was mad that she was the one who told me. I was deeply depressed that I would never be pretty enough, thin enough, smart enough, funny enough… any enough for him. I stood up to go home and talk to him, and Grant was standing there.

Wiping tears off my face, “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Frankie told me where to find you. He said you were mad at me.”

“ What did I do?”

“Alice Cooper.”

“Oh.” Grant said looking at his shoes.

“Why? Grant, why would you go back to her?”

“I don’t know Maggie. She asked me to go to prom, said we could go as friends and just have a good time. I mean I understand you’re mad at me for saying yes to her. But why are you crying? I’ve seen you mad at me before but not crying. Is there something else?”

I don’t look at him or reply for a long time. I love him. But I can’t say it. He doesn’t feel the same. Finally, after what felt like forever, I look at him.

“You’re right I was mad. But I want you to be happy. I’m just crying because I was frustrated. I don’t like Alice Cooper. That’s all, I’m fine now."

I remember the look in his eyes when I said that. It was a strange look, and I still can’t quite place what it was about. But he hugged me after that and we tried to be normal, but we weren’t ever really the same.

Sitting here now I run my hand over the inscription, tracing Pearl’s name and Thomas’ wondering if I will ever be as loved as Pearl.

My phone rings as I leave the park, it's Grant. He invites me to have lunch on Wednesday and asks me to make the desserts for his engagement party in a week.

The next few days are a blur of work and random texting conversations with Grant.

On Tuesday evening, as I’m flipping channels, I find one of my favorite movies, The Goonies, it’s at the part where Chunk meets Sloth and offers him a Baby Ruth. Just as I settle in my phone rings. It’s Grant.

As I answer the phone, I hear the echo of my television on the other end. “Hey.”

“Hi, how are you?” I ask.

“You know just sitting here watching The Goonies and it made me think of you.”

“Yeah, I’m watching it too. Hey, wait, are you saying Sloth or Chunk reminds you of me?”

“Don’t be dumb, the red headed cheerleader, of course.”

“Yeah, but I was never a cheerleader.”

“True, but you have good legs, and so does she. But yeah, to be fair it’s the nerdy Asian with the inventions, that’s totally you.”

“Yeah, and you’re the popular guy, with the big brother’s personality.”

We both laugh. We sit there on the phone watching the movie separately but together.

We stay on the phone until before I know it, I’m asleep.

I wake up with my phone next to me on the couch, it’s completely dead. I look at the clock and its 7:15. Shit. I plug in my phone and once it’s back to life I send April a text to let her know to start the muffins without me that I’ll be down as soon as I can.

My phone pings while I’m in the shower. I check it as I pat myself dry and it’s Grant.

“Good catching up last night Maggie. Thanks for the movie date.”

I respond with, “It was fun catching up. Sorry I fell asleep. Probably the first time that’s happened to you on a movie date. Lol.”

“Definitely” my phone pings.

It’s a normal day in the bakery and soon I’m back upstairs. I start working on a list of desserts for Grant and Barbie’s party. I watch the food network. Eat some leftovers. Through all this I find that I’m checking my phone waiting on a call or text from Grant. Then I realize that’s ridiculous he’s probably busy putting the house together or having phone sex with his fiancé or something.

The next morning, I wake up with the realization that I have lunch with Grant today. It’s chilly outside, overcast. I decide to wear the pink sweater dress and boots. I take the time to straighten my hair and then protect it with product from the humidity. Then I realize it’s too much. It’s just a lunch with a friend. So, I tie my hair up in a ponytail and change into a pair of jeans and a black sweater.

I try to distract myself with work. Before I know it, it’s noon and Grant texts to say he’s going to have to cancel our lunch plans, apparently Barbie came back early.

I tell him not to worry about it and we set up a tasting for them to try what I have planned, so they can make a final decision for the party.

After closing, I pull out the mop, and since I don’t have anyone else in the building, I blast my music. I start dancing and singing and mopping and forget all about the lunch. I keep singing all the way to the trash can out back. I dump the trash and I’m startled by Grant standing on the other side of the fence.

“ You scared me!”

He laughs, hard. I haven’t heard him laugh like that in a long time.

“Actually, I came to apologize. I’m sorry our lunch got hijacked.”

“Oh. It’s ok. You didn’t have to come all the way over here to apologize though. You could have called.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true, but I was also hoping you might have a cupcake or something.”

“Yeah, I always have cupcakes. Go to the front and I’ll let you in.”

After his third cupcake and two cups of tea his phone rings.

He walks out of ear shot and seems to be having a heated conversation. I busy myself with cleaning, and he comes back.

"Sorry, I have to go, but I'll talk to you later?" He says, rushed and walks out the door before I can respond.

I’m up early. It’s 5am and I can’t sleep. So, I do what I almost never do. I go for a jog. It helps clear my head and I decide to send some cinnamon rolls to Ed and Grant. I love baking, and I love cinnamon rolls, but I hate making them.

It’s raining outside, and the bakery is unusually busy for a Thursday. People seem to be avoiding the rain by ducking in for warm muffins and cinnamon rolls. Around 8:30 I send a box of warm cinnamon rolls and a carafe of hot tea to Ed. I have Steph take it.

Steph walks back in dripping wet 45 minutes later.

“So, the handsome one was asking for you…”

“What?” I ask Steph confused.

“Grant? Is that his name? He was happy about the cinnamon rolls but asked why you didn’t bring them. I told him you were busy. But... why didn’t you? He’s hot.”

I avoid her question and tell her to go clear tables. I pull my phone out and send a text to Grant.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t bring the rolls myself, it’s crazy busy over here. You, ok?”

He doesn’t respond. In fact, I don’t hear from him all day.

The rest of the week goes by and nothing. No text. No phone call. No visit to the bakery. Nothing.

On Saturday I text him. “Hey stranger. Hope you are ok. ”

Two hours later my phone pings. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Strange. What did I do to piss him off? I leave him alone and get back to work. That night I talk to Frankie about all of it. The movie date, the awkward lunch, the random visit for cupcakes, and the cold shoulder. Frankie tells me he’s just busy and to let it go.

The next few days are a blur of oversized sweaters, leggings, and huge cups of tea. I cry myself to sleep at night and pretend everything is fine at Sunday dinner. I tell Frankie everything. Still nothing from Grant.

On the day of the tasting I wake up early and I bake all of the pink confections Barbie could want. Under my chef’s coat I wear all black, down to black shoes and put my hair in a neat bun on top of my head. If he wants to be cold, I will be professional. They are hiring me for their party. I spend the day in the kitchen and let the girls run the counter. At 1:45, I tell them to prepare a table with the samples I have and an order form. At five after 2, Grant and Barbie walk in. I smile and shake their hands. This throws Grant off, who was no doubt expecting a hug. Barbie doesn’t notice she starts chattering away about how cute it all is. I maintain eye contact with her, smiling and answering questions. I feel him staring at me. I can’t look at him. I’m mad at him for blowing me off.

An order form is filled out, a time and place are given, and we are booked. Barbie tells me to come to the party and stay as a guest. I tell her I’ll try.

The morning of the party I am standing in front of my closet on the phone with Frankie, totally freaking out.

“Maybe I won’t go. I’ll just have April take the delivery over, and I’ll stay home.”

“Pull it together Red. Wear something that makes you feel pretty but also looks classy.”

Eventually I settle for the sweater dress and boots. I wear my hair in a side braid with a pink ribbon through it.

I arrive at their house right on time. It’s a beautiful house, and it’s in the neighborhood of my garden. Steph and April pull up behind me in the delivery van and the three of us carry the trays of cookies, cupcakes, and muffins up the walkway. Barbie bounds out of the house greeting us and kisses me on the cheek. After we set the trays down, April and Steph are instructed to get a drink and hang out. Barbie insists on introducing me to people. I don’t see Grant. Eventually I find Ed sitting alone in the kitchen and I join him.

“Lots of noisy, stuck-up people in there huh?” He asks as I hug him.

“Yeah, where’s your boy?”

“Hiding somewhere I suppose.”

We drink together and Ed bashes on Barbie. I tell him that I secretly call her Barbie which makes him laugh and he tells me he will too.

Eventually those drinks kick in and I find myself wandering the house looking for the bathroom. I look out the window on the back yard and see Grant. He’s sitting alone on a porch swing. It’s odd, he should be inside mingling and drinking and laughing. He should be happy.

I’m going to tell him. Unfortunately, by the time I get back downstairs, he’s already inside and his soon to be father-in-law is giving a speech. Barbie is at his hip giggling and kissing his cheek.

I stand there and listen fighting the urge to cry. That should be my father talking about Grant. His arm should be around my waist. I realize I must be staring too hard because he looks away from his new father-in-law and our eyes lock. His smiles falters.

I’m searching for an exit when Ed stands up to speak.

“My boy has always attracted the prettiest girls. This one is no different. When he told me he was getting married I thought I knew who it would be. The beautiful girl that was always making him laugh and picking him up when he fell. The girl that won my heart the day he brought her home with gum in her hair. But alas, he has chosen the pretty girl. Take care of each other and be happy.”

That was the most uncomfortable speech I have ever heard. He was clearly talking about me.

I sneak out while everyone is talking and laughing. I drive back to the bakery. I lock myself inside and tearfully bake a cake.

Frankie calls. “Do you love him?” He says without even saying hello.

“Just as much as I did when I was 15.”

“Then you have to tell him. That boy has loved you since eighth grade when he stood up to the whole science class for you.”

“What?”

“You think you are the only one calling me every week? Honey I have listened to Grant for the past two weeks, trying to decide what to do about you. I have listened to him ask about you my whole life.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I promised him I wouldn’t. Just like I promised you I wouldn’t tell him, 16 years ago.”

“But he chose her.”

“Tell him Maggie.” He hangs up.

I hang up the phone and walk out of the kitchen, and there standing outside the door holding a box is Grant.

“Hi.” I say opening the door.

He steps inside and puts down the box, it’s a converse box, an old one.

“Maggie, I want the girl with gum in her hair, and freckles and beat up converse who sings and dances with a mop. I want the girl I fell in love with when I was 13.”

I’m standing there, crying. I’m at a loss for words. I have wanted him, us, for so long I can’t speak.

Grant closes the gap between us and wraps his arms around me. He looks into my eyes and whispers, “Maggie, I love you. Always have, always will.” He leans down and kisses me.

“Hey what’s with the converse?” I ask when our lips part.

“Oh, well you told me that me and my converse belonged with someone who would appreciate us. So, I brought them home. To you.”

“I love you, Grant.”