Hold on to Hope

That was family.

So there was something else you should probably know about Aunt Hope—about why my spirit shivered every time I was in her space.

She was also Evan’s mama.

Pain staked through me at the thought of his name. It was an effect that happened damned near a thousand times a day.

Evan had been my best friend.

The boy who’d been at my side since I was five years old.

Through those years, he’d become the biggest part of my life.

The brightest part of my soul.

He’d left me three years ago, and still, I could feel him everywhere.

Echoing from the walls.

Taunting my spirit and teasing my mind.

He’d abandoned me when I’d needed him most.

Packed his things and left nothing but a note.

It’d nearly killed me.

But somehow, someway, I’d clawed my way out of the darkness.

Oh, but that sure didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt.

Refusing to spiral, I focused on the task at hand.

Creating something spectacular, a new recipe that kept our customers flooding through the door.

Aunt Hope smiled one of her soft smiles. “Yes, we sure do keep our customers satisfied. And I have to say how thankful I am that both of you are here to help me and Jenna do it.”

When I’d first started working here in high school, I’d thought the title of barista sounded way cooler than working at my mama’s diner a few streets over.

Maybe it was a teenager thing.

Needing to spread my wings to experience something outside the watchful eye of my mama.

Somehow, through college, I’d just . . . stayed.

Thing was, every time I walked into this kitchen, I had a sense of belonging so intense that I didn’t know how to up and leave.

Now that I had my marketing degree, I couldn’t help but imagine all the places we might be able to take it.

“You know that, don’t you? We couldn’t do this without you,” Aunt Hope prodded. A flash of the sadness she’d worn for the last three years made its way into her expression.

It gutted me.

Seeing her worry.

Her confusion over what Evan had done.

Her first son had caused her so much joy and grief.

The boy special in so many ways.

Extraordinary.

Unforgettable.

I gazed over at her, wishing I could take it away. Tell her it would all be fine.

I just didn’t think I could tell a lie that big.

Her red hair danced around her shoulders, the smattering of freckles on her face glinting like specks of red glitter under the glaring kitchen lights.

I swore, looking at her was like looking directly at the sun.

A ray of sunshine that’d made itself home right in Gingham Lakes.

Hardest part was it felt so much like looking at him.

“I’m just glad we get to do this with you, Auntie. That you put up with us.” I gave her a little tease, hiding the quivering in my voice.

She huffed at me. “Put up with you? If you tried to leave me, I would hunt you down and drag you back. Place hasn’t been so profitable in years, all thanks to you.”

She set her sparkling green eyes on me. Eyes the same color as the ones that had watched me for years with an affection so intense I’d felt like I was the center of a great big, magnificent world.

The center of Evan’s world.

Maybe that’s why I’d felt so off-kilter, so lost, when he’d gone away.

No longer sure of my direction when my life had always been intertwined with his.

“Hey, way to make a girl feel like a third wheel over here.” Carly was all feigned tsks and anger.

I laughed. “I’m sorry, but your literature degree does nothing for us.”

“Um, hello, have you read the store’s bio on the website? That shit is amazing. Customers come running, mesmerized by the words. And that coupon I put up yesterday? Sheer brilliance.”

“You just keep tellin’ yourself that,” I told her, tossing her a grin as the timer dinged on the oven behind me. I slipped mitts onto my hands and pulled out the tray of triple berry scones.

Hit with the scent, I leaned over them and inhaled deeply.

God, they really did smell like heaven.

“Don’t even think about it,” Aunt Hope warned when she saw my taste buds getting the best of me.

I laughed. “Just one?”

“I’m about to start docking your pay.”

“I’m okay with that,” I told her, setting the tray on the cooling rack.

Aunt Hope picked up the batch of key lime cupcakes she’d already frosted. The cupcakes were massive, the frosting a light green and decked with the cutest slices of lime candy and a sugared key.

She knocked her hip into mine. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, and we’re even.”

I fought for a grin. She had no idea how much I adored her. How much I wished that I could erase the pain she kept hidden in the warmth of her caring eyes.