Baked With Love

by Tina Martin

  “Gianna?”

  “Oh,” she said leaving her thoughts behind to pay attention to him. “Um…my parents.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I don’t know who my father is, and I doubt my mom knows.”

  “Have you inquired about it?”

  “Yes. Plenty of times when she was around. All she would say was that he was a black man. Said he was half white, half black, and he didn’t care about me.”

  “She told you that?”

  Gianna nodded. “She didn’t like him very much. Sometimes, she would sit and reminisce about him and would get upset with me because she said I had his eyes. She used to say, don’t look at me with the eyes of that devil.”

  Ramsey frowned. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, because apparently, I have my father’s light brown eyes.”

  “I happen to think you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. That is, when you let me see them.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He took a sip of water. “Continue please.”

  “Oh, um…so she was angry at him, I think, because he didn’t marry her. Over the years, I’ve watched my mother jump from man to man—to anyone who sold her a dream. She was determined to find a man to make her whole, she said. To make all of her dreams a reality. She didn’t want to put in the work to fulfill her own goals and ensure her own success. She wanted to find a successful man who had all the things she wanted.”

  “I see. And where does Gemma fit into all of this?”

  “I was almost ten when Gemma was born. I don’t know her father either. After mom gave birth to Gemma, I felt like she gave up hope of finding her prince charming since Gemma’s dad didn’t stick around, either. After that, she was even more promiscuous. Every time I turned around, there was a different man. And she would leave for days at a time. I remember being eleven and changing Gemma’s diaper and feeding her. I practically became her caretaker. As a teenager, when it came time for me to go to school, I would take Gemma to my neighbor’s house in the mornings and make up a lie about why mom wasn’t home. Gosh, at thirteen, I felt like a teen mom. And the crazy thing is, my neighbor knew I was lying, but she never reported the situation to the authorities, thank God, or I don’t know where we would be. So, long story long, I don’t know where my mother is and I don’t have a father. Well, I do have one—I just don’t know who he is or where he is.”

  Ramsey nodded, taking this all in. “It must’ve been difficult taking care of your sister like that.”

  “It wasn’t easy. I just did what had to be done.”

  “I see.” Ramsey gathered up his trash and got up from the table to walk it over to the garbage.

  Gianna watched him walk there. He looked extra tall in her house for some reason and the outfit he wore today – a pair of dark slacks and a short-sleeved white Polo shirt showed off his leanness. His muscles. She could see the corded ropes in his arms as well as the bulge of his biceps underneath the short sleeves. He was the purest form of male she’d ever laid eyes on.

  When he turned around, she hurried and looked away.

  “Are you done eating?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She was way too nervous to eat another bite. She did manage to eat a good portion of the Stromboli before her appetite left her.

  “Then, do you mind if we sit in the living room for a while?” he asked.

  A while…

  “Um, okay.”

  Gianna stood up, closed her takeout container and followed him to the sofa.

  He sat on the right side.

  She took the left.

  “When we talked at the bakery, you said you liked baking,” he said.

  “I do.”

  “But it’s not your passion,” he said. “I want to know why you opened the bakery if it’s not your passion.”

  “You don’t forget anything, do you?” Gianna asked, fumbling with her fingers.

  “No, I don’t. I’m an architect. I pay excessive attention to detail…like the way you hardly look at me when we talk and how your hands always twitch whenever I’m close to you. Relax.”

  Easy for you to say. “Okay, well, um…I didn’t have time for me when I was growing up. I had to be there for Gemma. So, I didn’t go to college. I worked at a bakery full-time after graduating high school while taking classes part-time at a technical school for business administration. It took me four years to get a two-year degree, but I finally got my Associate’s degree. Still, I kept working at the bakery. Jobs were hard to come by when I graduated so I got the crazy idea to start my own bakery. I worked, and worked and worked some more until I had enough startup money, well in conjunction with a small business loan. Around the same time, I found out Gemma was sick.”

  “Sick?”

  “Yes. She—” Gianna paused. “She has lung cancer.” Gianna swallowed the hurt and forced her way through. With a shaky voice, she continued, “I put the bakery on hold and started doing all kind of cancer research while focusing on her treatment. After the cancer went into remission, I felt like I could finally breathe again, so I moved ahead with opening the bakery and life was good for a little while. Everything seemed normal. Then the cancer came out of remission four months ago. I tell you that to say this—I love baking, but it stopped becoming something I enjoyed when it became a job that could barely pay for my sister’s healthcare. And, I don’t do this job for me anymore. It’s all for her.”

  Ramsey thought for a moment, remembering how difficult it was for him to move forward with his business plans after losing Leandra. Switching gears, he asked, “Where is your mother now?”

  “Now, like right at this moment?”

  “Yes.”

  Gianna shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “When did you last see her?”

  “A few years ago.”

  “Years? Does she know Gemma’s sick?”

  “Yeah. She knows. She just doesn’t care.”

  Ramsey stared at Gianna for a moment. She carried a lot of pain, he realized, and he wanted nothing more than to take that pain away, even if it meant reliving his own heartbreak. “Do you mind if I slide closer to you?”

  Gianna’s body immediately locked up. “Why can’t you just stay over there?”

  “Because it’s difficult for me to put my arms around you from way over here.”

  “You want to put your arms around me?”

  “Yes. It won’t hurt. I promise.” He smiled.

  “I—I have to check on Gemma. Excuse me,” Gianna said standing and hurrying out of the room. She walked to Gemma’s bedroom stepped inside and closed the door. With her back pressed against the door, she fought for air while the thought of Ramsey’s arms around her made her heart pound out of control. He wanted to put his arms around her, he said. She couldn’t let that happen. She’d never been encased in a man’s arms before, but then again, she was experiencing many firsts with Ramsey. She’d never had a man in her house. Never had a man help her put away groceries. Never had a man look at her the way Ramsey’s eyes seemed to pierce her soul.

  “Okay, Gianna,” she said to herself heaving, trying to get her breathing under control. All this and the man hadn’t laid a hand on her, yet. “You have to find a way to get him to leave.” She had no idea how she would do so.

  She looked over at Gemma. She was still sleeping soundly.

  “Think, Gianna. Think. Think. Think! How can you get him to leave? You could just ask him to. He’s a gentleman. Right? He’d leave if you asked nicely. So, do it. Ask him.”

  She grimaced, wondering if it was normal for a woman to have this much difficulty dealing with a man. She wanted him to stay but her nerves needed him to leave. She smiled nervously and with a spurt of confidence, she left Gemma’s bedroom and headed back to the living room where she saw Ramsey sitting in the same spot on the couch.

  “Ramsey, I—”

  “Come sit here next to me,” he interrupted her to say, patting the area of th
e sofa to his immediate left.

  Crap. What now, Gianna?

  Slowly, she took steps in his direction then sat dead center of the sofa. He scooted closer, closing the gap between them – his woodsy cologne touching her nose before his left thigh jammed up against her right.

  “You’ve had a long day,” he said, his eyes like radar on the side of her face.

  Gianna shivered when she felt his warm breath touch her face.

  He draped his arm around her and her shiver became a quiver. She was too tense, too uncomfortable to let his arm remain around her. Grabbing a hold of his hand, she moved his arm from around her and said, “I’m sorry. I’m not comfortable with that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m just not.”

  “Can you try to be because I really want to hold you?”

  “Ramsey—”

  “Just this once,” he said. “If you don’t want it to happen again after this time, it won’t. Can you make that compromise?”

  “Okay.”

  Ramsey put his arm around her again and this time, he gently pulled her closer to his chest. When she seemed okay with that, he locked his other arm around her and rested his chin on her head.

  “This feels strange,” Gianna said, pulling in the wonderfully intoxicating smell of his skin.

  “Just relax and get used to me,” he said in a soft, seductive tone.

  Get used to me – the things he had the nerve to say, but Gianna obliged, closed her eyes and did what Ramsey suggested – relaxed. It was in those quiet moments that she could feel and appreciate the warmth of his body heat and bathe in the comfort that only a man could provide a woman. She could enjoy being taken care of for once in her life. She could be content enough to fall asleep right here in his arms.

  “Gianna,” Ramsey whispered softly.

  “Yes?”

  “If things in your life were different and you had a normal upbringing, do you think you would’ve been married by now?”

  “No.”

  He chuckled. “Why not?”

  “Because I’d still be weird. That’s not a trait men look for in the woman they want to settle down with.”

  “You’re not weird.”

  “I am. You don’t have to be nice, Ramsey. I know what I am.”

  “You’re not weird, Gianna. You’re inexperienced. There’s a difference.”

  “Well, whatever the case, the answer to your question is, no.”

  “Do you want marriage?”

  “I thought I did. Now, I’m not sure. I’m not sure about a lot of things, so I just try to take life one day at a time now to see where it takes me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Ramsey said. After a few silent moments, Ramsey adjusted his position when he felt her lean further into him and release a long, satisfying, humming sound. Had she fallen asleep that quickly?

  “Gianna,” he whispered.

  When he didn’t receive a reply, he smiled, satisfied that she was comfortable enough to fall asleep in his arms.

  “Rest, sweetness. You deserve to.” He rubbed his hand across her soft, silky hair and exhaled deeply feeling just as at peace and comfortable as she was.

  “You must be Ramsey.”

  The voice made him open his eyes to look for its source and that’s when he saw her, Gemma, wearing a long, quilted cardigan with a turquoise scarf tied on her head.

  “I am. You must be Gemma.”

  She smiled lazily. “So, she’s told you about me, huh?” She coughed.

  “A little. Yes.”

  “She usually doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t want sympathy from anybody, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know. Where is Gianna’s bedroom?”

  “Upstairs. The door at the very end of the hallway.”

  “Okay. She’s asleep, so I’m going to take her up so you and I can talk. Will that be okay?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  Ramsey carefully eased Gianna into his arms and effortlessly scooped her up, then headed upstairs. Pushing her bedroom door open with his foot, he walked in and lowered her down on the bed. Then he looked around her room for a piece of cover to spread over her. He smiled. Her room looked pretty and girly. It suited her – pastel pink walls – same color as the walls in the bakery. She had a princess bed with buttercream covers along with the matching color curtains, nightstands and rugs.

  In an armchair that sat in a corner of the room near the bed, he saw a plush pink blanket. He took it, spread it over her then strummed his index finger along the side of her soft jawline. “I’ll be back, sweetness,” he whispered, then quietly left her room, pulling the door closed.

  Eagerly, he returned downstairs to find Gemma in the kitchen. She’d just taken a can of soup from the pantry.

  “So, that’s why Gianna buys so much soup. It’s for you.”

  “Yes. For me. It’s food I can easily consume and prepare.” Gemma set the can of soup on the counter, then stretched out her small, weak hand to Ramsey for an introductory shake.

  Ramsey looked at her hand and stepped closer, opening his arms and embracing her thin frame. With all the care in the world, he palmed the back of her head and brought her close to his chest, the same way he used to embrace his dying fiancée. His eyes watered just slightly before he sucked in a breath, foregoing his pain and past to be present for her. For Gemma.

  “I’m sorry you have to go through this. I truly am.” He released her.

  “You say that like you can relate.”

  “I can,” he said.

  Gemma took a bowl from the cupboard.

  Ramsey opened the soup for her, poured it in the bowl and placed it in the microwave. “Have a seat, Gemma. I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.”

  “O-kay.”

  He smiled warmly at her. When the microwave dinged, he removed the bowl.

  “The spoons are in the drawer right there in front of the microwave,” Gemma told him.

  He opened the drawer, took a spoon then placed the bowl on the table in front of her.

  He sat down, watched her take a spoonful to her mouth.

  She glanced up at him. Smiled. “Gianna said you were handsome. Boy did she hit the nail on the head. Good God, you’re gorgeous.”

  Ramsey chuckled. “Thank you. I see you’re not shy like your sister.”

  “No. We’re complete…” Gemma coughed. “Opposites. The closest thing we are to being alike is the fact that our psycho mother wanted our first names to begin with the letter ‘G’ for some odd reason.” Gemma coughed again.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Well, I’m not fine. I have cancer, but…you get what I’m trying to say, right?”

  He nodded. “Well, my mother isn’t psycho, but she named us boys with the letter ‘R’. My brother’s names are Regal, Romulus and Royal.”

  “Cool. And different. I like it.” Changing the subject, she said, “Let me ask you something, Ramsey. Why are you interested in my sister?”

  “Who says I’m interested?”

  “Well, you’re here and Gianna told me your date was horrible. She was sure you never wanted to see her again.”

  “She was wrong, and the date wasn’t all that bad.”

  “It was bad enough for her to think you never wanted to see her again.”

  “I honestly don’t know why she would think that when my every thought has been consumed with her since we met.”

  Gemma’s brows raised. “Your every thought?”

  “Every last one.”

  Gemma smiled. “You really like her, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “Despite all that weird crap she does?”

  He grinned. “Yes. Despite of it all.”

  “Good, because she’s going to need you when I’m gone. Gianna is quirky and shy but she has a heart of gold. She uses her time, her energy, her resources—her everything to take care of me. I know I’m dying, but I couldn’t go through this without her.”r />
  “Don’t say that—that you’re dying.”

  “It’s true. There’s no need in trying to find a glimmer of hope in this situation. I’m dying.”

  “Haven’t you had chemotherapy?”

  “Yes, but it’s not working this time around.”

  “Your doctor told you that?”

  “No. I have an appointment coming up. That’s what he’s going to tell me. I know it’s not working because I can feel it. Gianna’s going to insist that I try it again. And again and again. Ugh.”

  “What is she supposed to do, Gemma?”

  “Let the inevitable happen.”

  Ramsey grimaced.

  “I see the look on your face, so let me explain,” Gemma said. “My sister has taken it upon herself to take care of me. She’s doing all this stuff for nothing.”

  “What stuff?”

  “She’s emptied her bank account, took out loans, got a second mortgage on the house, maxed out three credit cards and every single dime she makes from that bakery goes toward my health care. I’m a burden to her.”

  “Don’t say that. You’re not a burden.”

  Gemma narrowed her eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’ve been where your sister is right now. I was in her shoes. I lived it. I know how it feels to—to feel helpless—to wish there was some magic pill that would make everything better, but there isn’t. I lost someone close to me…close to my heart, and I know what Gianna is feeling right now. I can feel it without her having to say a word. I knew I was drawn to her for a reason. You are the reason, Gemma.”

  Gemma pushed the bowl away and pondered what he said for a moment, staring at him as she did so. “So—” she coughed. Cleared her voice. “You think you were attracted to my sister because—”

  “As strange as this may sound, my heart attracted her heart which is the reason why I can’t leave her alone. I know what she needs. Everything else about her is a bonus.”

  Gemma smiled.

  “I know you feel like you’re burdening her, but love carries burdens, sweet girl. If Gianna gave up on you, you’d be in a world of trouble.”