A month has passed since I last saw Gage. Well, that was a lie. I've seen him nearly every day at work. But although he was there physically, he was still very distant. He has not been the same since September and I wasn't sure why. The day after the catering event he came to me requesting a few days off for personal reasons and said nothing more about it. I was worried about him for multiple reasons, including the fact that when he asked me his face was bruised all over again, but he wouldn't let me in no matter what.
I truly thought we had something going. It didn't even have to be romantic, but I thought we were friends. He still claims that we are, but if that's the case why does he hardly even look me anymore? It's gotten to the point where he even suggested that we ride home separately. His excuse was that his motorcycle needed to be fixed soon so he didn't want me on it in case it messed up. I knew it was a lie, and a terrible one at that, but still I let him go his separate ways not wanting to push him any further. Whatever he was going through must be serious. Now I visit Mr. Phillips alone which was another issue.
"Why don't you come with your boyfriend anymore?" he asked one day.
"Who?"
"That Gage guy."
"Oh," I forgot he mistook us as a couple a while back. It feels like ages since that moment. "I guess we just . . . wanted some distance. I mean we see each other at work every day so, why not?"
Mr. Phillips' expression told me he wasn't falling for my lame excuse either, but he didn't pry. "I suppose. I asked him about it the other day but he didn't really talk about it either."
I perked up. "You saw him the other day?"
"I did. He dropped by to give me this," he pointed to the black shirt he wore that read Pierce the Veil in large, intimidating red letters. When he noticed the bits of crumbs from his pastry on the shirt he quickly wiped them off.
My heart gave a little tug when I registered what he was saying.
"Gage came by to give you his shirt?"
"I'm assuming it's his shirt. I didn't really need it, but I can't really refuse something that feels so soft. Oh! And he brought these, too," he reached around to grab a small storage box nearby. After unlocking it he pulled out a few cans of sunscreen along with other first aid kit supplies. Gage must have been thinking the same thing I was when we last visited Mr. Phillips.
"He said he would stop by again in a few days to bring more supplies," he continued as he put the supplies back up. "I keep telling him not to worry about it, but he's as stubborn as you. I guess that's why you make such a good pair."
"Yeah . . . maybe."
All at once I was happy and sad. I was happy because Gage's selfless act proved he was truly a great guy, but it also proved that he really is avoiding me. I looked down at the half-eaten pastry in my hand no longer hungry anymore.
"Katy?" Mr. Phillips eyed me up and down. "Is something wrong?"
After a moment I let out a long sigh feeling drained from today's events, or lack thereof, and tried to fashion up a natural smile despite how I was feeling.
"Actually my head is starting to hurt. I may have to go home early today. I'm so sorry."
"No need to apologize, that's fine. Just get you some rest. I don't like seeing you this way."
But rest was the last thing that came. Ever since Gage's defensive trainings dwindled down to almost nothing my nightmares have been coming back tenfold. Almost every night this week I have woken up in a cold sweat and shaking violently. When yoga and a shower didn't fix it, I closed my eyes and imagined I was back at the gym with Gage pounding my fists against a punching bag and dodging his attacks. In those moments of training, he gave me something I needed most: power. Without it, I am weak and defenseless in my dreams. I guess I needed him more than I thought.
Even Lamar was noticing a change between us although he didn't pry too much. There really was no explanation for Gage's sudden cold behavior towards me. I don't think I said anything wrong to him, and if I did I would like to know so I can apologize. But other than that I was at a loss.
I wanted so badly to talk to him. Especially after he comes in almost every day looking exhausted and battered up. He was never the most energetic employee, but he didn't wear dark circles under his eyes like a fashions statement before either. And his face . . . I fear that there are more injuries on his body that I can't see because of the black ink covering his majority skin. It was concerning, and at one point I would have confronted him about it, but lately, we are so much like strangers I'm not sure I'm even talking to the same Gage anymore.
I finally broke down the day he stopped calling me Shortcake.
During the entire shift, his playful manner was completely gone replaced with something more professional and distant. Whenever I asked him a question he would address me by name and when I did something stupid he wouldn't roll his eyes and come back with some retort like he normally would. Instead, he would just say something like, "What needs to be refilled, Katy?"
Not short-stack. Not shortcake. Just Katy.
I used to hate him referring to me by nicknames, but now I would give anything to hear him say it again. I wanted my Gage back even if I had no right to wish for it. I wanted my friend. I never knew how lonely my life was until he was absent from it.
However, I decided that today on this Sunday afternoon I am finally going to stop whining about it all. If Gage was going to be this way, then so be it. I couldn't change him, not that I had any right to, so I might as well move along with my life. We had a good run I guess, but laying in bed mopping about what could have been gets me nowhere. It's not like he broke up with me or anything. We weren't even dating! But still, ending any sort of good relationship sucks. A lot.
Regardless I got up out of bed, did a few stretches, and looked for something I haven't used in a while: my running shoes. On days off from the bakery I would usually run to clear my head but lately I've been slacking. But today was going to be a different day.
One of the perks of living in the sunshine state is that it hardly ever gets cold. That's why I traded out my yoga pants for running shorts and threw on an oversized t-shirt. My chest tightened slightly when I remembered this is what I wore to my trainings with Gage, but I got over it and quickly twisted up my hair into a bun. Finally, I could do this after months of skipping the hairdresser although my bun was still extremely tiny and would probably fall out halfway through the jog.
Regardless, once I grabbed my water bottle I stepped out my front door and set a playlist for my stretches. If anybody walked out right now they would probably think I looked ridiculous. But this what Google said was the best stretch and I don't have enough time to argue with a search engine.
After I felt limber and energized, I took a deep breath and walked towards the stairs. On the way, I couldn't stop my eyes from drifting towards Gage's closed black door. I remember knocking on it almost every morning to wake him up and get ready for work. Lately, it's been untouched. I briefly wondered if he was even in there fast asleep still or if he was out like me. But when I passed his motorcycle downstairs I knew I had my answer. For some reason, it made me upset, but I quickly shook it off remembering my task at hand.
As soon as I found upbeat playlist I was ready to go. I have never been the greatest runner and I wish I could feel all of those endorphins that people talk about, but instead, I felt heavier and heavier. Physically this run wasn't making me feel better, but emotionally I was soaring. Adding distance between me and my problems really worked out. Of course, I could have just done this on my bicycle, but when I realized this I was already halfway to town and there was no way I was turning back now. The only time I make that much of an effort is on two occasions: 1) there is a giant sale going on at the grocery store where everything is seventy-five percent off and 2) Enrique Iglesias was walking around in a white t-shirt and it started raining.
To make it a little more entertaining, because Rihanna could only do so much, I started counting all of the palm trees on my run. Some small, some tall, some thick, some skinny. When that became boring I noticed all the shops surrounding me, some closed for the day while others filled with customers. I kept noticing all of the little differences in the town when my eyes landed on a familiar ice cream shop. The place where Gage took me when I was upset.
Well isn't that great.
With a groan, I changed my path running without really paying attention. This run was to clear my head not fill it with once happy memories. Although it saddens me, I will admit that I would never want to change that moment.
When I was a little past the town I decided it was time to finally call the run quits and ran towards my second home. If my run won't bring me solace, then there is one other option: baking. Luckily I remembered to bring my keys with me so I could unlock the bakery with ease.
When I stepped in and turned on the lights I was hit with a wave of cold air that my body happily accepted. The familiar sweet smell of sugar and bread greeted me and instantly I felt more at ease. Probably to any other shop owner the last place they wanted to be on their day off was right back at their store, but not for me. I worked hard to get this place and I enjoy every second of it. Well, there are moments I wish wouldn't happen, but after everything I went through to get to this point, I didn't mind.
Ever since I was a little girl I could find joy in baking. Whenever I was stressed or upset I would head straight to the kitchen to seek comfort in a new recipe. Mother hated that I got my hands dirty, but it brought me nothing but happiness. Even now with all the ingredients to myself, I found that same happiness, like a kid in a candy store. Baking alone on a Sunday afternoon was just as therapeutic as running, if not more.
I wasn't sure what I was going to bake. I just sort of let all my control go straight to my hands and I mindlessly started collecting the ingredients. Usually that's how my best products come out. Once I collected the basics like flour, eggs, butter and sugar I rummaged through the supplies skipping over the pumpkin spice because I was sick of it and headed straight towards the chocolate. I was about to leave when I saw a tub of caramel and got an idea.
I laid out my ingredients before turning on the oven then busted out the bowls and pans. While humming I mixed all the ingredients finding peace once again. There was something about the way all these tiny ingredients once separate now meld together make something so great. What's fascinating to me is that there are no two final products alike, as if the dessert had a personality of their own. Joy is the sound of eggs cracking open and the way the whisk hit the metal bowl with each stir. Slowly, I could feel my body relax and revert back to the familiar pleasure I get when baking once more.
When the ingredients were ready, I scraped the contents into a clear pan watching the thick brown batter cascade down filling it up perfectly like it belonged there. Before placing it in the oven, I ran my spatula across it to gently smooth out the small ridges left behind until it was flat. Once they were inside the oven, I went to work on the next phase and poured the pouch of caramel into a small pot. It simmered, little air bubbles popping releasing the sweet scent that made my mouth water. And when mixed with the heavenly scent of fudge brownies, my stomach was roaring hungrily.
I popped the baked brownies into the fridge to increase their cool off time before bringing them back to cut it into squares. For the final act, I drizzled the soft, warm caramel on top then finished it off with a pinch of salt.
I smiled lovingly down at my finished product. Just knowing that all of those ingredients stirred, heated, and chilled all made this one pan of brownies still blows my mind. And it looked absolutely divine with the different shades of brown mixing all together. Perhaps we could start selling these instead of all the pumpkin foods.
Right when I was about to dig in, because eating desserts is therapeutic as well, I froze when I heard the back door suddenly open. I don't remember anybody else having the spare key. I gave it to Lamar once but he returned it. So that means . . .
Instantly I grabbed the closest object to defend myself and ducked down below the prep table, brownies be damned. When I peeked around the corner all I could see were black shoes approaching slowly. My heart was beating so quickly I was sure it was going to pop.
This was it. My nightmares are actually coming true. I was already trembling so hard there was no way I could defend myself. I had to though, or else I would be going back to that place. And I refuse to go there and see them. I won't allow it.
As the footsteps got closer and closer I took a deep breath bracing myself for what was about to come. I really hoped that Gage's training would pay off. Because right now, that's all I'm banking on.
When the intruder was close enough I squeezed the object in my hand then counted down.
3
2
1
"Ahhh!" I screamed as I jumped up to surprise attack the intruder. They were not going to take me without a fight! But as soon as I swung, the rolling pin came to a stop in midair as if it was caught in something. I opened my eyes to see a hand covered in tattoos wrapped around the object firmly. My eyes trailed down the arm attached to the hand until I landed on a pair of familiar blue eyes.
"If you didn't want anyone touching the brownies you could have just said so," his deep voice was laced with heavy sarcasm.
When I could definitely establish it was Gage and not an intruder, I let out a loud sigh and relaxed a little at the same time he let go of the object.
"Nice weapon, by the way," he smirked eyeing the object in my hand.
I looked down at the tool that I chose to defend myself with and blanched. A plastic rolling pin. Very effective, Katy.
I let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, well . . . can't be too cautious."
"I see," he raised an eyebrow at me before walking past the prep table.
As he moved around I realized that it was the first time we have actually been alone in almost over a month. I don't know why my heart was racing. Perhaps I'm still started from thinking he was an intruder. But that didn't explain why I was blushing.
"What are you doing in here, by the way?" I asked trying to strike up some sort of conversation to ease my nerves. "Not that you can't be here. You can come to the bakery at any time but usually--"
"I forgot something from work yesterday," he cut me off as he made his way to the office. "I figured I would drop by and get it."
"Oh," I put the rolling pin down then added, "But how did you get in?"
"Lamar left the spare key out back in the catering van. Did he not tell you?"
"He did . . . I must have forgotten."
"Yeah."
The back room was filled with nothing but the sound of Gage rummaging around the office. The air grew thicker than the batter I made earlier as we kept our silence going along with our lives as if we were total strangers. I hated it. He was right there in front of me yet he might as well be in China given all this distance between us.
When he finally reappeared he was holding his jacket from yesterday and turned to give me a tight smile. "Well, uh . . . don't stay too late again."
And that was it.
I watched as he walked towards the door, and I was going to let him continue, but something inside of me told me not to let it happen. To fight this unnecessary tension. And so, in desperation I've never known, I yelled out, "Wait!"
Gage paused in his tracks to the back door then turned to me, his eyebrow propped up as if waiting for me to say something. Wow, I really didn't think he would listen.
"Umm," I looked around for anything not prepared on how to keep him here a moment longer. When my eyes landed on the brownies in front of me I had an idea. "Do you mind . . . tasting these?"
He looked down at what I was pointing at. "The brownies?"
"Yeah. I think I might add them to the menu, but I want to make sure they are okay."
He looked at me for a long moment as if he was really considering his reply to my proposition. What I would give to be able to read his mind now because he looked so torn for some reason. A beat later he let out a sigh and took another step forward, but not in the direction I wanted him to go.
"I'm sure they are fine, Katy."
There it was, that name again. That closed off behavior that made me sick. It must have added fuel to the fire for him to stay here because I didn't back down.
"Just . . . please, Gage. Just try one. I really need a second opinion."
He stopped once more completely conflicted now because he and I both knew what I was really asking. And for some reason that seemed like an issue, although I didn't understand why. His jaw clenched and unclenched a few times before he let out a loud sigh and said, "Fine, but just one bite." He sat his things to the side and came over while rolling up his sleeves.
I refrained from squealing with glee knowing that I had finally won the battle. I still have the power of persuasion! Or maybe the brownies did . . . but whatever. I smiled and carved him a piece, plopping it onto a napkin before placing it into his hand.
"It's really warm," he noted as he switched it to his other hand.
"Really? I put them in the fridge to chill for a while."
"Maybe next time double the time."
I nodded. "Right."
And then it was time. The moment of truth. I watched his every reaction as he bit into the brownie, hoping to see some sort of light go off. After chewing for a moment he nodded his head over and over.
"It's good," he took another bite. "Really good, actually."
I was beaming. "You really think so?"
"Definitely," he finished off the brownie and licked his fingertips clean. "My only suggestion is more caramel on top."
"Right!" I grabbed the mixing bowl nearby. "I agree. You can't ever have too much caramel!"
Why am I so awkward? It's just Gage.
Instead of bashing myself over my overly-peppy behavior I directed my frustrations with the bowl of caramel and started whisking like a mad woman. Right when it was ready I looked up to see Gage walking backward and away from me. I frowned.
"I'm gonna head out. I've got some . . . stuff to do with Jason," he picked his jacket back up and turned around to look at me. "I'll see you tomorr--?"
"Wait!" I called out again only this time when I yelled and waved my hands around I forgot there was already something in them. At my protest, caramel went flying off the whisk and across the room to land directly on Gage's face which dripped onto his jacket.
When I realized what just happened, my eyes widened and I covered my mouth to muffle my gasp from escaping. Gage just stood there taking in the situation as well until he warily reached out to touch his face wiping off the caramel covering his left cheek.
I slowly dropped my hands from my mouth. "Gage . . . I am . . . so sorry. I did not mean to do that, I swear."
Instead of answering he simply looked at the content on his finger, then on his jacket, and back to me. My heart rate increased once more at the death glare set on his face.
"Is . . . was that jacket, like . . . expensive? It kind of looks expensive. But you never know these days. I mean I saw a jacket the other day that looked like it was really cheap but it turned out to be half my paycheck. And it didn't even look that nice! I mean, not like your jacket at least. Your jacket is very nice--"
He sat the jacket to the side and started walking towards me in a slow, predatory way. I gulped.
"I'm sure caramel can wash out of that. There are tons of awesome laundry detergents these days. I saw this one infomercial that was talking about this detergent, and it had like . . . bleach or something in it. And it got out this red stain on white material. I think it was wine. Which is good for you. And speaking of!" my rambling grew quicker as he lessened the space between us. "I bet caramel on your face is actually a good thing for your pores. Not that you have bad pores, but you know, it might help it look even better?" I added a smile at the end as an extra bonus.
By the time my rambling was over Gage was standing directly in front of me. The only thing between us was the prep table, and even then it wasn't the widest one. He propped his hands up on the table and leaned forward slightly, his intense gaze held mine.
"Is that so?" he spoke in a low, even tone. I gulped again not really sure how to answer when his eyes landed on the bowl of caramel. "Well then," he dipped two fingers in the bowl getting a nice amount of thick caramel on on them, "let's see what they do to your pores."
And that's when he took the caramel from his fingers and wiped it down my forehead, over my nose, and all over my chin in one straight line. I was so stunned by what he just did it took me a moment to register what was going on. I was frozen on the spot before the wheels slowly started to turn and I directed my glare at him.
"You . . . did . . . not."
The edge of his lip curled up. "And what if I did?"
"Then you must suffer the consequences."
"That being?"
In the blink of an eye, I grabbed an egg from the nearby carton and said, "This," before smashing it on top of his head. The yellow yolk seeped into his brown hair, oozing its way down his face and over his eyes that he now had to close. While I was cackling, feeling pretty proud of myself, he leaned back slightly to wipe the egg from his face.
"Shortcake," my heart leaped a little, "you don't want this."
He had no idea just how wrong he was.
With my index and middle finger, I playfully walked them towards a bag of flour nearby. "Are you sure, Sour Patch?"
Slowly, he started reaching for the chocolate chips. "I'm positive."
"Because actually," I grabbed a fist of flour the same time he grabbed the chocolate chips, "this is exactly what I want."
And just like the egg I smashed over his head, we both cracked.
Right when I launched a handful of flour at him, he fired off with mini chocolate chips. I squealed when the assortment hit me but then immediately started laughing when I saw Gage's shirt half gray half white.
I pointed and laughed even harder. "Gotcha!"
"Oh hell no," he looked at his shirt then back to me. "This means war!"
This time I squealed out of surprise when he suddenly leaped across the table and charged right for me, only I quickly dodged him and ran in the opposite direction. I needed ammo, and I needed it now.
I reached out to open the fridge when suddenly a loaf of bread shot out and hit my hand away. I turned to see Gage with two other loaves of bread in his hands, a victorious gleam in his eye.
"Fridge is off limits," he smirked.
"Says who?! If you haven't forgotten, I am your boss!"
I reached for the handle again when the two loaves hit my hand and I had to pull back.
"In war, titles don't matter. All that matters is to survive, or else," he grabbed the carton of eggs nearby, "you get shell-shocked."
So quickly I was actually impressed with myself I opened up the fridge and pulled out a can of whipped cream. Using my teeth I ripped open the seal and started shaking it up yelling, "Viva la Revolution!" before charging.
We both let out a battle cry before he started pelting me with egg after egg while I leaped on top of the prep table to spray him with whipped cream. Even when the can was out and the carton was empty we still kept going. I threw fistfuls of flour while he made it to the fridge busting out the icing and spewing it in my hair. I had the upper hand when I found the sprinkles and dumped it all over his head which stuck to him after all the caramel I dumped. Gage took a cheap shot and slammed the pan of brownies in my face and before we knew it, the backroom truly looked like a war zone.
After I wiped the brownie from my eyes I saw him holding up a bag of potato chips with a sinister look on his face.
Wait.
"Where did you find those?" my eyes widened.
"In the office," he waved them around. "I know you have a secret stash."
"Those are for emergencies only," I slowly made my way to him.
"I know. So wouldn't it be a shame if they somehow," he ripped open the bag, "got all over the floor?"
My eyes widened even more. "You wouldn't dare."
"Forfeit the war, Shortcake. Say I'm the winner and the potato chips go free."
"Never!"
The edge of his lip curled up as he slowly reached into the bag and pulled out a chip. "Wrong answer," he then dropped it on the floor.
I winced. "You monster."
"Forfeit."
"No."
Another chip. Another wince.
"Forfeit, now."
"Don't you even think about--"
Two chips. I nearly folded in on myself.
"You are wasting my emergency snack!" I yelled.
"Actually, you are. Because you just," drop, "won't," drop, "give up."
He angled the bag to pour the rest of the contents and I snapped.
"NO!" I charged trying to rescue my poor innocent snack. But on my way there I slipped on who-knows-what and down I went tumbling to the floor. Or at least I'm supposed to be going towards the floor but instead, I crashed into something else more firm and smells like cedar wood mixed with vanilla. I cried out as I went down, down, down, squeezing my eyes shut and bracing myself for impact, until I finally hit the flat surface.
However, I didn't slam against the floor like I thought I would when an arm suddenly reached out to wrap itself around me. After getting myself together, I looked up to see a pair of blue eyes filled with concern staring at me. From this proximity, I could even see the flecks of green inside of them. They were . . . spectacular.
"Are . . . you okay?" Gage asked above me, his breathing coming out in small pants.
Once I could look away from his eyes that held mine, I could finally take in his appearance. His hair was sticking up every which way from the honey, a mixture of caramel and egg coated his face, sprinkles stuck to the left cheek while crushed nuts coated his right, and all around him was flour.
To put it in simple terms, he looked absolutely ridiculous.
I started giggling as I took it all in, then my giggles turned into chuckles, and before I knew it I was full on laughing at him. And it wasn't my normal laughter, but full-on hysterics.
He frowned. "What's so funny? You almost knocked yourself out!"
"Yo--You!" I tried to get the word out over my laughter. "You look . . . ridiculous!"
And then I fell into another fit rolling around beneath him.
At first he looked at me like I was crazy, which was rightfully so, until he too cracked a smile.
"Well you should see yourself," he swiped my nose and showed my the whipped cream on it. "I'd say I won the war."
When my laughter calmed down to just chuckles I smiled up at him. "How does that work when you just saved the enemy?"
He raised his eyebrow at me before he took in the way he was above me in a protective stance. There was no denying it. He let out a sigh and said, "You're right. I should have let you fall."
I blanched at him. "You wouldn't!"
"Viva la Revolution."
I rolled my eyes at him and playfully swiped my thumb near the corner of his mouth to taste the chocolate sauce left there. As soon as I did I could feel Gage tense up and suddenly I realized the entirety of the situation.
I was on the floor in the backroom, now covered in what's left of our food fight, with Gage between my legs hovering right above me, one arm braced on either side of my face. And it's not like he was a few feet from me, he was close enough to where I could feel his breath hit my lips every time he spoke. Suddenly my humor died when I realized the proximity of our bodies. Without warning different parts of my body started to grow warmer until I felt like I was boiling. Desires I've never known washed over me when I realized that I . . . liked this closeness. Only it would be better if he got closer. Wrong! I shouldn't be thinking this! But when he is so close, and his eyes are so beautiful, and his body feels fantastic, who wouldn't want this?
And I could tell by the heated look in his eyes I wasn't alone.
Gage was staring down at me, his face a blank slate but his eyes told a different story. There was desire, there was affection, and there was . . . sadness?
But my little deduction came to a halt when his hand suddenly cupped the right side of my face. It was such gentle gesture I could have sworn I imagined it.
But this was real.
He looked like he was I so much pain when he touched me it twisted up my insides. But that all changed when his eyes dropped to my lips. He kept his hungry gaze on them, but was quickly replaced by something else.
"I shouldn't . . ." he whispered, mostly to himself, as he traced his thumb along my chocolate covered cheek gently.
Instead of allowing this pain to continue, I did the only thing I could think of, which was to placed both my hands on either side of his face to try and provide him some comfort. His eyes widened, and I could tell he wanted this too. He wanted to taste my lips just as badly as I wanted his, if not more. And not because they were coated in sugary sweetness, but because it was my lips. We both wanted this. So why deny it?
With a little encouragement, I started to guide his face down lower to mine not caring that this was completely wrong. He may be my employee, he may be my neighbor, and he may have been avoiding me the past month, but none of that mattered right now. All the mattered was his lips on mine.
With his mouth so close to mine only a hair could separate it, I slowly closed my eyes preparing to give in completely. And it seemed like he was too. Which is why I started to lean up and--
"Gage? Are you still in here?" a familiar voice called out.
Lamar.
Immediately we froze with our lips barely brushing each others and our eyes snapped open.
No.
"I saw your motorcycle out back when I drove by and came to see if you were alright," Lamar started to make his way inside the room.
The last thing I wanted to do was pull apart from Gage, and it seemed like I wasn't alone, but I also didn't want to explain this to Lamar. Because honestly, I couldn't explain it myself.
Slowly, Gage started to push away from me but his eyes never left mine. Already I was feeling the effects of his body no longer pressed on mine, and I hated it.
"Yeah," Gage called out, "I'm back here. And so is Katy."
A pause before Lamar's steps could be heard coming even quicker.Thankfully by the time he was in view we were at a reasonable distance from each other although we remained a mess on the floor. When Lamar saw us his eyes widened.
"What the hell did you two do?" he used the same time on us as he does for his girls.
"It's . . . a long story," I flashed a smile trying to gather myself back up as much as possible.
"It looks like it," he kicked at some sprinkles on the floor. "Half of our stock is on the floor. And on Gage."
"Ha! Told you I won," I snickered at Gage who only rolled his eyes.
Lamar blinked a few times. "I really don't want to know."
"It's nothing," Gage waved him off. "We just got a little carried away when making a new dessert."
Lamar eyed him up and down slowly. "Uh huh. Okay, anyway," he cleared his throat, "while you're here, Gage, there has been something I've been meaning to ask you."
"What's that?" he asked while getting to his feet.
"Do you know what item you will be bringing to the Thanksgiving dinner?" he crossed his arms in front of him.
Gage looked completely taken aback. "I'm sorry . . . what?"
"The Thanksgiving dinner at my place. Surely Katy told you about it," he looked at me.
"Well, I was going to. But I planned on telling him like at work . . . tomorrow," I lied. I thought that with how things were going between me and Gage he would never talk to me again so he wouldn't be interested.
"Anyway," Lamar pressed on, "each year we have Thanksgiving at my place. We all check with each other beforehand to see what they are bringing so we don't have seven pumpkin pies and one turkey . . . again."
"That was an awful year," I shook my head thinking back to that time.
Gage still looked confused. "Wait, so you want me to go?"
"Of course. You are a Katy Cakes worker and therefore you are family. You have to be there. Unless," Lamar lowered his tone, "you have somewhere else to be?"
I looked at Gage waiting for a reply but he just shook his head. "No. I don't."
"Great! Then you are in charge of side items. I have the turkey and, naturally, Katy does the desserts."
"And the twins?" I asked.
"They said they would bring all the drinks and stuff. Of course my girls will do the decor and stuff, so now we are all set," he clapped his hands together. "That was easier than last year."
"That's because Deborah wanted to be a vegan for a month."
"Right, right," he shook his head. "Anyway, I just came by to see if everything was okay. People don't usually come here on days off unless it's important."
"Yeah, well thanks. We're good," Gage went to grab a rag. "Although this place . . ."
"Yeah," Lamar looked around and scratched his beard. "Guess I'll leave you two to it. Plus, Jasmine wanted me to help her with a project. I'll see you both tomorrow though, right?"
When I said "Right," Gage replied, "Yep."
"Cool. Well, you kids have fun. And good luck!" he waved as he turned to leave.
As soon as the door shut behind him I let out an exhale for some reason before turning to Gage. He gave me a knowing look before passing over a rag and together we went to work.
Halfway into the cleaning session, something was bugging me that I wanted to address about what Lamar asked.
"Gage?" I asked grabbing his attention. He looked back at me while wiping off the counter. "Are you really okay with this? With Thanksgiving?"
It took him a lot longer of a time to answer than I had hoped for, but when he did he nodded and said, "It should be okay. I'm just surprised."
"Why?"
"I . . . haven't really had a Thanksgiving with others before."
I stopped my own cleaning to look at him in disbelief. "Really?"
His lips went into a straight line and I knew I had my answer. From across the room, I sent him a gentle smile I said, "You are family to us. You will always be welcomed here."
He looked down at his rag for a moment before he said, "Thanks," then went back to cleaning.
"Of course," I gave him a final nod before turning back to my cleaning. We had a long night ahead of us, but I wouldn't change it for the world. Because now everything feels right again. I hope it lasts.
++THANKSGIVING DAY++
After grabbing the supplies from the grocery store we went back to the apartment in my new car. I finally caved in after I realized a bike can only be useful when you don't have to go shopping for things like Thanksgiving dinner. I still didn't like being in the car, but it was the best option.
"All I'm saying is that if you stopped on that season you are missing out," Gage said as he shut the car door with one hand while carrying a bag in the other.
I shrugged. "Maybe. But doesn't it get boring to you after a while? When there is no hope and everyone keeps dying and you know they will eventually turn into zombies, I just don't get it."
"Just keep watching. I promise it gets better," he said walking up the stairs. "Besides, it's the number one show on television. So you know it's good."
"Yeah," I followed behind him. "I mean I totally get it. But I can only handle a certain amount of sadness before my emotions explode and I am nothing but a broken woman sobbing over fictional characters twenty-four seven."
"Oh you mean like after you finished Bones?"
I gasped. "How can you not cry after he died? He was such a fun-loving character and he did not deserve to be killed!"
Gage rolled his eyes. "Everyone saw it coming."
"Not true! I don't think anyone saw that happening, first of all. And secondly--oomf!"
My argument came to a halt at the same time Gage did making me run straight into him. I made sure I didn't drop anything before I looked to see what the hold up was.
"Gage?" I stepped around him to see his face frozen in shock. "What is wrong with--?"
When I finally looked down in the direction of his gaze I saw what made him freeze. In front of his door sitting on the floor with her knees bent up to her chest was a girl, a very beautiful girl, with long, light blue hair that matched her deep blue eyes. For a second I had to think about why they looked so familiar when I heard Gage say--
"Violet."
She looked up at him and a slow smile spread across her soft features before she suddenly jumps up from the ground and tackled him in a massive hug screaming, "Gage! I've missed you so much!"
He looks taken aback for a moment before he slowly returns her hug. I stood there awkwardly watching the duo with a bag of canned green beans not really knowing what to do.
But soon the moment passed and when they part she beams up at him and asks, "So . . . how has my big brother been?"
______________________________________________________________
Goodness! What a long chapter! I was actually expecting it to be a lot shorter, but as usual the characters took over and here we are with a 7,000 word chapter. I look like this right now
Anyways! This was a lot of fun to write. I know food fights are cliche but hey, it was too cute to pass. The following chapters are the ones I've been planning from the very beginning and are SUPER important. The ball is rolling my friends, and lots of stuff shall go down. Also, when I wrote Lamar walking in on them I looked exactly like this
+Chapter Song: Mess Is Mine by Vance Joy
+Questions: Do you think it's a good idea for Gage to be getting close again? What do you think will happen with Violet in the picture now? Also, I've always wanted to know but how did you find this book? Leave a comment letting me know!
+Fun Facts: The song for this chapter is actually the theme song for the book. Vance Joy has a special place in my heart. Also salted caramel brownies are my FAVE.
If you are enjoying this book so far please let me know by leaving a vote/comment! It really makes my day ❤️
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Sincerely,
Snow