“That’s a lot.” Doreen added cocoa, nutmeg, and butter into the electric mixer. She hand mixed the ingredients when she was home. But if she tried that at the bakery, she’d have developed carpal tunnel syndrome by now.
Megan joined her at the baker’s island. “That’s the reason I understand why you’d need time. Marriage is a life-changing event.”
“I can hear the ‘but’ in your voice.” Doreen had known Megan and her cousin, Ramona, since they were little girls. She liked to think she knew them almost as well as she knew Ean.
“I don’t understand what you’re afraid of.” Megan’s words brought Doreen up short.
“What makes you think I’m afraid of something?” Doreen cracked four fresh eggs into the bowl this time and tossed the shells in the trash where they belonged. She added sugar and vanilla.
“Come on, Doreen. Everyone can see how much you love Alonzo. And he loves you, too.”
Doreen turned off the electric mixer, then combined the contents of the two bowls. She wrapped in a cup and a half of wheat flour and two cups of walnuts as she gathered her thoughts.
“All of my life, I defined myself by what I did, and Paul was a big part of that. I loved to bake. So when we were house hunting, Paul understood the kitchen was important to me.” Doreen sprayed the baking pan with oil. “He supported my need to participate in community projects. I wouldn’t be where I am today without him.”
Doreen placed the baking pan with its Trinity Falls Fudge Walnut Brownie mixture in the industrial oven.
Megan broke the short silence. “Paul Fever was a wonderful husband and a loving father.”
“I see so much of Paul in Ean.” Doreen stood with her back to Megan.
“And he was a very good friend to my family,” Megan continued. “But the question is, how do you want to face the future?”
“What do you mean?” Doreen frowned as she swept away the remnants of the brownie ingredients.
“You’ve entered a new phase in your life, Mayor-Elect Fever.” Megan smiled, invoking Doreen’s new title. “Do you want to experience it with Paul’s memory or with Alonzo?”
Doreen considered Megan’s question as she started the cinnamon rolls. Trust her friend’s analytical business mind to identify the central issue. Alonzo’s proposal wasn’t about the past. It wasn’t even about the present. It was about her future. What did she want that future to look like? Of course, God would have the final say. But given the choice, what did she want: the memories she’d made with Paul or the ones she could make with Alonzo?
“Lead the way.” Darius followed Peyton as she weaved past tables in the crowded Books & Bakery café. It was Thursday afternoon, two weeks before Christmas. They were supposed to be discussing the community center fund-raiser. Still, Darius considered this a date and had insisted on buying Peyton’s lunch. He was aware of the attention they’d drawn, but he didn’t care. It was a liberating feeling.
The store was bursting with Christmas cheer: garlands and stars, wreaths and ribbons. Customers carried purchases away in the Christmas Books & Bakery bags. Red-and-green napkins had replaced the traditional white ones. Holiday music played softly through speakers strategically positioned throughout the store. Additional decorations would appear in time for the popular Christmas Reader Appreciation Celebration next Saturday, a week before Christmas. That’s when they’d unveil their tree.
Peyton set her tray on a table in the far left corner of the dining area. She gestured toward the nearby window. “Look at this. It’s like a Christmas card.”
The window framed the shops at the northwest intersection. Trees were outlined with snow and dripping icicles. Oversized ribbons formed foot-long bows around the lamps on Main Street.
A smile tugged at Darius’s lips. “Will you be warm enough?”
“I’ll keep my coat on.” Peyton peeled her gaze from the window. “I forgot you’re probably used to this view.”
“I like seeing it through your eyes.” Darius shrugged off his topcoat.
They slipped into conversation easily: football games, both college and pro, their mornings and plans for the week. And then the discussion turned to the fund-raiser, what they’d accomplished and what remained on their task list.
Darius finished off his chicken noodle soup. “I think we should ask Ms. Helen to be our keynote speaker.”
“I agree.” Peyton sipped her lemon water. “Ms. Helen would be the perfect speaker for this event. She’s been involved with the center since the beginning.
“Great.” Darius gathered his sandwich. “I’ll ask her tonight.”
“I think we should go together.” Peyton finished her sandwich. “That would make it more of a formal invitation from the event cochairs.”
“All right. I’ll pick you up after work.” Darius swallowed more iced tea. “And I’ll let Ms. Helen know we’re coming.”
“Thank you.”
A comfortable silence settled between them, until a few beats later when Darius spoke again. “Are you leaving for New York right after commencement Saturday?”