She grinned a little and fidgeted with her napkin, visibly torn between…something and the fact that she relied heavily on plans and structure.
“What about housing when you start your job?” she asked next.
“San Francisco is pretty much out,” I admitted. “There are plenty of temporary solutions around the city, though. I’ve been looking into vacation homes outside of Berkeley. They’re expensive, but there are a lot of them. It’s apparently its own business venture to own a house there and rent it out to professors and students who are attending the university for a limited amount of time.”
That seemed to calm her down some. Maybe the housing issue was her biggest concern.
“Grace needs day care too,” Elise noted. Then she winced and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I know you’ll handle things great—I’m just…”
“It’s all right, sweetheart.” I covered her hand with mine again. “When things are up in the air, it’s difficult for you to get settled.”
She nodded and bit her lip. “Especially when it’s you.”
I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
“You’re a constant, Avery.” She deflated; her shoulders sagged a little, and she looked lost. “No matter what happens in the world, you’ve always been there. Your schedule at Ponderosa was easy to follow—I always knew when you’d be home. You work out twice a week, you pick up Grace at the same time every day, you’re always close by. Now that’s gonna change, and it’s going to take me a while to readjust. It’s nothing bad—it’s change.”
Fuck, I wanted to hug her. I had to settle for squeezing her hand and locking our feet together under the table. “Listen to me, Elise. I’ll always be your constant. Even when I try to make my life a little less predictable—for the time being.” And I couldn’t stress this enough. “I need you to understand that stability will continue to be important to me in the future. It’s just who I am. I grew up without any stability whatsoever, and it’s what makes me happy.”
She nodded once, gaze glued to our hands. She linked our fingers together. “You’ll be patient with me?”
“I’ll be more than that.” I brought her hand close and kissed the top of it. “You’re going to focus on school and not worry about me, but I’ll keep you updated on every step of the journey. And before you fly back to San Francisco, we’ll sit down together and discuss everything you want us to cover. Okay?”
Because this was the girl who could get tears in her eyes—tears of joy—when given a new notebook for list-making.
“Okay.” She smiled, relief evident, and blinked back her emotions. “For the record, there is room in my life for chaos. It just needs to be of the organized variety.”
I chuckled and bit off a piece of bread. “And that suits me perfectly, Pipsqueak.”
She didn’t need to explain. I already knew, and I wasn’t worried. I knew, for instance, that she would love to go on a road trip without an itinerary. As long as structure could be built around it, with time frames and so on. She needed to know when the chaos started and when it ended.
When our food arrived and Elise looked more at ease, I took the opportunity to change the subject. I wanted to know more about her school and the internships and jobs she’d had—and had been offered. She was usually a rambler when the topic excited her, but she’d been fairly tight-lipped while living in California. I’d often heard “I’ll tell you all about it when I come home,” and “I have so much to tell you when we see each other.”
My rambler made a swift return now, though. She spoke animatedly about her chemistry professor, an older woman Elise had gotten attached to because she was a baker too, and culinary chemistry was a passion. It was apparently through this professor that Elise had been given the chance to work at some high-end restaurant that was known for its dessert selection.
“It’s made me rethink a bit about my future,” she went on. “Chocolate is my first and true love, but there’re just so many fun challenges with pastries. Like, we had a four-hour conversation once about flour. Different types of flour. Can you imagine?”
I seriously couldn’t, but I loved seeing her so passionate about it.
Life without passion was just…uninspiring. Bland. Dull.
“So, how’s that going to alter your future plans?” I wondered, forking up some more lasagna. It was fantastic, but Elise’s was way better.
“Well…I was thinking. Can’t I have two shops?” she asked rather than stated. “I’m picturing a duo of sorts. One establishment with two doors, one to the pastry shop, the other to the chocolates. You’ll still be able to combine purchases and whatever, but there will be two registers, two different but matching designs to the interior.”