Baking Up Love

by Simone Belarose

  I had the impression that this may have been the first time she told anybody about her entire life from start to finish. That this may have even been the first time she said it aloud and looked at it herself.

  There were uncountable tears, and I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt so by the fifth time my phone buzzed from some work message or other, I put it on Do Not Disturb.

  It wasn’t until much later, after the sun had set that I realized I had forgotten all about Thomas. There hadn’t been much time to talk about myself during the day with my mom, but she’d asked several times about our own lives and I had finally caved.

  So I told her about Thomas.

  She’d known his family, the Wellers, quite well. Knew what a piece of shit his dad was. In fact, she knew a surprising amount about all the families that lived in Sunrise Valley. So I guess that part about dark secrets and all might have actually been true.

  The family drama and history - apparently the Sigruns and Wellers hated each other going ten or more generations back - leant a dramatically romantic air to our relationship.

  Dad had grown up just outside of Boston, so he had no idea about all the secrets in Sunrise Valley lurking just below the surface. Mom did, and for some reason that made me trust her more.

  I really don’t know why I did.

  It certainly wasn’t because I wanted to. That was the farthest thing from my mind.

  When I checked my phone I saw his text and immediately tried to call him, but it didn’t go through. I figured he’d be sleeping by now, it was pretty late and by the time I got back it’d be past midnight.

  Thomas was a worrier. He didn’t like to show it but it was one of the traits he hadn’t quite shaken from his younger years. He had this way of running his hand through that lush dark hair of his that - aside from making me hot and bothered - was something he did only when he was stressed. When he was worrying.

  And right now he must be worried sick about me. I’m such a jerk for ignoring him all day.

  It wasn’t until I got back a little after midnight and let myself into the apartment that my whole world came crashing down around me for the second time that day.

  I saw Thomas from the back, his head lolled back asleep in the dimly lit living room. My heart melted. He must have stayed up waiting for me and fallen asleep.

  I came around to surprise him and it felt like somebody had stabbed me in the chest. Curled up with the most peaceful expression, what I imagined my face looked like after a long night of lovemaking with Thomas, was some blonde girl without any clothes on.

  Her bare shoulders were nudged up against his thigh under the blanket that covered her, and her head was in his lap. Thomas’ hand was on her shoulder almost protectively. Claiming her.

  My mind scrambled to make sense of it. Why had he done this to me? Was it because I had gone out and left him alone? What kind of bullshit excuse to cheat on somebody was that?

  I was furious. I was heartbroken. Everything was going so well, this seemed…so out of place.

  Did he think he could get away with cheating on me and I wouldn’t notice? My mind raced, I could hardly breathe. And just when things couldn’t get any worse, Thomas woke up.

  I had wanted to be gone before he did. I was tired, emotionally wrung out. I felt like an old dishcloth. More than anything, I was disappointed in myself for thinking I could have opened my heart to another person without getting hurt.

  The dawning realization of where he was and what was going on hit him like a brick to the face. While he reeled from the impact of his own bad decisions, I left. There was no way in Hell I was giving him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

  I was done with this. Done with men. Done with Thomas. Immediately, I turned to go to Jemma’s and realized that Thomas probably still had the keys to it and that I didn’t want to be near him.

  Distance is what I needed.

  Taking the stairs two at a time and nearly breaking my damn ankle I got into the truck just as I Thomas was hurrying down the stairs. He looked frightened, wild around the edges of his gorgeous dark eyes. I peeled out of the parking spot just before he got to me.

  To his credit, he kept up with me down the street for nearly a block. It wasn’t like the Suburban was fast but I couldn’t help feel a little impressed. He ran barefoot but even Thomas couldn’t hold up against an engine that never tired.

  When I turned down onto Main Street, I lost sight of him. He had called out to me once or twice before but I ignored it. I was still in shock. I couldn’t believe he’d take a girl back to our place. Our place. The audacity of it!

  I drove for hours, scrubbing at my face angrily every few minutes when the tears spilled over and blurred my vision. I did not want to cry over him.

  There had to be a motel somewhere. Before I knew what I was doing I had my phone out. Saw the thirty missed calls from Thomas and swiped the notification away. I called the number my Mom gave me.

  If I ever needed my Mom, it was now.

  She picked up immediately. “Claire.” She sounded relieved. “I’m so gl-“

  I cut her off, the words tumbling over one another. “I need you.”

  A brief pause. Then she rattled off the place she was staying at. It wasn’t very far. She stayed on the phone with me to give me directions. The GPS wasn’t much use on these old country roads.

  The entire time one question repeated in my mind. Over and over, a question I had no answer for.

  Why?

  18

  Thomas

  I limped back to my apartment. I took a nasty tumble when it became obvious she wasn’t going to stop for me on Main Street. I had been running full sprint after Claire, shouting her name. One wrong step and I went down.

  I felt like the most horrible person in the world. I could only imagine what she thought of me.

  God. What it must have looked like.

  Rubbing my temples I tried to think of how I could make this right. This was definitely not the way I had wanted Claire to meet Sam. As soon as I got up Sam started to wake up but I had no time to explain and just bolted after Claire.

  Unfortunately, I had been too slow waking up, realizing what it must have looked like. At first, I had been happy to see her, then confused at her expression and then like an idiot I finally got it.

  But it wasn’t what she thought. Not remotely. Only, how did I explain it to her without her thinking I was lying. If she thought I was able to cheat on her, then she’d also think I was capable of lying to cover it up.

  How did you tell somebody the truth when they think every word out of your mouth is a lie?

  When I got back to the apartment Sam was awake and dressed in her old clothes since I’d fallen asleep before the wash cycle had finished. She looked at me, chewing on her lip and fidgeting. “What was all that about?”

  Door locked behind me I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath. “Claire came home. I must have passed out on the couch with you, and when she came home she saw us. She must have jumped to the conclusion that I was cheating on her with you and she left.”

  Sam came around the couch and into the kitchen. “You. Cheating. Don’t make me-“ She gasped. “Thomas, you’re fucking bleeding!”

  I looked down and behind myself at the trail. Sure enough, I was. “Yeah, I took a spill running after Claire.” There were bloody droplets leading right to me.

  What a mess.

  I staggered to the dining room table, dripping blood all the way. While Sam got a towel I examined my shoulder and found the culprit. A jagged piece of a bottle. Lovely.

  With clinical disinterest, I pulled it out. Barely felt the twinge of pain. I watched the blood well up in the wound and dribble down my arm. I felt hollow as the reality of my situation sank in. What was I going to do now?

  I was tired, upset, and hurt. If I could’ve just talked to her, maybe there was something I could have said or something Sam could have said to make her see the truth.

  Sure,
it was a dumb move to fall asleep on the couch with a girl my girlfriend hadn’t known or met before. There hadn’t been time to introduce them with everything that had been going on, and now things had gone just about as bad as they could.

  Sam came up to me and pressed the towel to my arm, wrapped it around and tried to tie it in a messy knot that didn’t quite hold the pressure so I helped her pull it taut. Not quite a tourniquet, but it was close. I could already feel the tingling numbness spread down my bicep.

  “So your girlfriend thinks you fucked me, huh?” She sat in the chair beside me, chin in her palm and elbow on the table. Sam eyed my wounded arm from time to time.

  Once the bleeding stopped I’d need to get it stitched up.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where her mind went.” I ran my hand through my hair again tugging at the roots in frustration. “I imagine from her viewpoint with the light as it was it looked like you had your head in my lap and you were naked under the covers if she saw your bare shoulders.”

  “You really fucked up, huh.”

  “Aptly put, Sam.”

  “What’re you going to do about it?”

  I shrugged. “What can I do? She wouldn’t even let me say a single word.”

  “Do you love her?”

  I gave her a flat look. “What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I love her. I’ve loved her ever since I was in grade school. I loved her since I first saw her at that book fair.”

  “Then you’re going to have to find a way to show her that you love her. Show her that what she saw wasn’t what she thought.” Sam let out a low whistle. “But she’s not going to make that easy on you. I mean…” She motioned to herself with one hand in a flamboyant rolling gesture. “I’m pretty fucking hot. Way out of your league. Obviously.”

  “Obviously.”

  “So not only is she going to be feeling betrayed and stupid for trusting you, but she’s also going to feel like she’s inadequate. You went out and got somebody way hotter, like just supernova fucking hot and fucked her in the one place that was-“

  “Sam.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Not helping.”

  “Sure, sure.” She flapped her free hand at me. “Just trying to lighten the mood a little, dude.”

  “I know, but it’s not helping. You’re really very shitty at it.”

  “Guilty. It’s usually me causing the problems, not trying to solve them. But seriously, she’s going to feel inadequate. Just hold on, hear me out. Don’t give me that fucking look, Thomas. Even if I wasn’t God’s gift to men - and women - it’ll look to her that you had to pursue somebody other than her to get off. That she’s not good enough. Seriously, she may not realize it immediately but when she does it’ll only make things worse.”

  The table made a loud thump as I let my head fall to the wood. “What am I going to do, Sam?”

  “Get a really, really big diamond bracelet?”

  “Won’t that make it look like I am guilty of what she thinks?”

  “Maybe, but I hear girls can’t resist shiny things.”

  “I think your intel is faulty.”

  Sam leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest and tipping the chair back onto two legs. “Listen…what you did for me-“

  “You’d do the same for me,” I said sparing her the gratitude I knew she’d hate to put into words.

  “I’d do you,” she said suddenly. “I mean, you’re really fucking hot and are the sweetest guy in the whole damn world. But I love you like a brother. I’m just saying, if I didn’t love you like that, I’d totally bang you. Just thought you should know where you stand, you’re in my league, Thomas.”

  It was probably the sweetest, kindest thing Sam had ever said to me outright. She had never been the type to talk about her feelings. She was trying to cheer me up in her own awkward and strange way. I understood what she meant. She didn’t want me to feel bad about what she’d said.

  “Thanks, Sam. It means a lot.”

  “How badly do you think she’d react if I talked to her?”

  That was a good question. Had she even gotten a good look at Sam in the dark? I guess it wouldn’t matter, as soon as she tried to explain Claire would know who it was. I was a little afraid of what might happen.

  “I don’t know. I don’t imagine she’d appreciate your presence very much, though if it were me it’d give me a little pause if the dude I thought she had cheated on me with came up to me to try and explain it wasn’t what I thought. But then again I’d be just as likely to deck him regardless.”

  “I’m pretty scrappy.” Which was true. Sam was pretty fierce when she wanted to be but I doubt she had any formal training of any kind.

  The way Claire moved, the way she glided made me think she had taken some classes. Whether it was dance, ballet, krav maga, or something else I had no idea. It never came up.

  The last thing I wanted at that moment was for my best friend and girlfriend - soon to be ex if I didn’t fix this fast - to literally fight over me. The thing was, I knew Sam would.

  Eventually, she’d see it as a personal slight, that she was a homewrecker and that coupled with seeing me hurt might just make her do something rash.

  What a fucking mess I’ve gotten into.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do anything crazy. This is a delicate situation and if I’m going to find a way to explain the truth it’s got to be done in a calm and collected manner.”

  She scoffed but didn’t object.

  “I’m going to put my clothes in the dryer, you still keep everything where it used to be?”

  “I’m a creature of habit.” Was my way of answering her. She got up and left me to my misery.

  What I needed was sleep and a clear head. What I did instead was call Claire every five minutes hoping I’d annoy her enough that she’d actually pick up.

  Sam took the couch and went back to sleep. In a way I envied her. No matter what happened, she’d still have me as a friend. As a brother. There was some measure of comfort knowing that I’d still have my best friend.

  But I had gotten a taste of something more.

  A life I actually wanted. Something that felt like it was all my own. I wasn’t going to give up on it without a fight and if that meant using every dirty trick I knew of to get Claire to give me just one minute to talk to her, I would do it in a heartbeat.

  Unfortunately, annoying her by constantly calling clearly wasn’t going to work.

  Maybe in the nineties it might have worked when you couldn’t just end the annoyance with a flick of your finger and keep a person on mute. Modern problems required modern solutions.

  I don’t know how long I laid awake in bed, wracking my brain for a solution that wouldn’t materialize. Plans were made and thrown out one after the other. Each more ludicrous and unlikely to work than the last. When my tired mind started reaching towards teleporting to where Claire was and declaring my undying love to her on bended knee, I knew I had stayed up too late.

  Maybe it’d come to me in the morning.

  19

  Claire

  I spent all night crying my eyes out and blubbering to my mom about what had happened, the shock of it all and how stupid I was. Barely halfway through my tirade, there was a knock at her hotel room door and I froze in fear and if I was being honest with myself, hope.

  Had Thomas somehow found where I was going? Did he track me down like some sculpted huntsman, following me to my hiding place to explain everything to me when I wouldn’t take his calls?

  Part of me wanted it to be so. I wanted there to be an easy explanation for the horror that I had seen but every time I mentally revisited what I saw it only got worse.

  “It’s all right sweetie,” said Mom getting up to open the door.

  Jemma waltzed in. A large box of donuts in one hand and a takeout sack in the other. “I come bearing emotional support calories.” She plopped down on the twin bed near the door that I had curled up on. I bounced
a little with the stiffness of the mattress and Jemma wrapped her arms around me.

  I wasn’t sure whether or not I should be mad. “You called her?” I asked Mom, trying to keep my voice neutral but knowing full well it came out shrill and whiny.

  She sat on the other bed near the large windows and folded her hands in her lap. “I did. This is something you need support for. Whatever it is that’s going on, you aren’t alone Claire. You have family, and we’re here for you.”

  That was enough to burst the dam of emotions building up inside me. It was what I had always wanted.

  At that moment I didn’t care that she ran out on me. I didn’t care whether or not it was a good reason or selfish. All I cared for right then was that I had my sister and my mom and I was loved.

  We stayed up half the night talking, not just about my problem though. We talked about our lives, where things were going and what we wanted. We talked about the old reruns that were playing on the TV that brought back memories of a different time.

  All the while Mom kept up a stream of dialogue that prevented the lapsing of any awkward silences, or moments of reflection. Jemma stayed the night, and Mom got some extra blankets and pillows from the closet when we were all falling asleep mid-sentence, only to start up an entirely different conversation nobody was having.

  She spread them out in the gap between the two beds. “You two take the beds, I’ll sleep down here if you don’t mind.”

  “We can share a bed,” I told her around a jaw-creaking yawn. “You don’t need to do that.”

  She gave me a no-nonsense mom look. It made my heart ache. “You’re my daughters and you’re both full-grown women. Take the beds.”

  The tone of firm finality in her voice brooked no further discussion on the matter. It was so different from Dad’s flexible, diplomatic way. Sometimes I wondered if he had tried to be more yielding in an attempt to emulate having a mother.