Sugar & Spice

Chapter 32

For three days, the wild fire sat at the back of Crissy's mind. She tried not to think about it but late at night, when everything was quiet and her thoughts finally caught up to her, swirling on the ceiling above her, she couldn't escape the concern itching at her skin. Quinn had called every single day to reassure her that he was fine but the fire was bigger than he thought and it was taking every bit of manpower they had to keep it contained.

Crissy spent most of her days at the new shop, helping out where she could but half the time she wasn't needed and she simply sat in the kitchen. She had moved a few things in already, containers of sugar and flour, a cutting board, a dozen baking sheets. The power had finally been turned on and she was very, very tempted to test out her new kitchen...

Then Amy burst in and started talking a mile a minute.

"I've decided to take notes," she said.

"On what?"

"Pregnancy."

"I really don't want to know how many times you puke in a day."

Amy huffed and waved her off. "I'm past that. Now I have to pee a thousand times a day because this little monster keeps tap dancing on my bladder."

"I really don't want to know that either but I guess I don't have a choice now."

"I'm calling it research," Amy said, easing herself to the floor of the kitchen, her back to the wall. She was already impossibly round in the middle and she still had three and a half months to go. It would be a miracle if she could move at all by the time nine months had passed.

"For...?" Crissy asked.

"You!"

"Me? I'm not pregnant. Thank goodness."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Quinn loves kids. You love kids. It's not hard to work the math here, sugar. It's only a matter of time."

"I haven't even talked to Quinn about this yet. And I've been engaged for all of..." She paused, counting in her head. "Not even seventy-two hours yet."

"Your point?"

"It's going to be a little while before we have kids."

Amy hummed. "Okay."

Crissy shook her head. "That's not good."

"What? I'm agreeing with you."

She shot a teasing look in Amy's direction. "Exactly."

Amy opened her mouth to protest when footsteps cut her off and a light knock came at the entrance of the kitchen. Amy's eyes widened and Crissy turned.

Andrea stood in the doorway. Her blonde hair, usually swept up and pulled back tight and crisp, hung loose and soft around her face. And she was wearing sweats and a t-shirt. Crissy couldn't remember the last time she had ever seen Andrea wearing sweats and a t-shirt. It was always business, always about making a good impression, all the time.

Andrea held up her hand. "Before you say anything," she said. "I've been trying to call you because I wanted to give you space. I know...this can't have been easy for you, these past few days. But I really needed to talk to you so I thought I'd tell you in person. If you listen. But if you want me to leave, I'll...I'll do that."

"To be honest," Crissy said, "that depends on what you have to say to me."

"I owe you an apology."

Crissy raised her eyebrows. "I'm listening."

"I...have not been a kind person to you or a good sister. And I am very, very sorry for that."

"I am too."