by Anne Hagan
There weren’t many cutlery or kitchen utility knives on display but she did find a well-made pocket knife she thought Mel might enjoy as a gift.
She laughed along with the carver manning his table as she dug her coat out of the stroller basket to retrieve her wallet. “I hadn’t expected to do any Christmas shopping quite so early.”
“You must be a first timer then Miss,” he said.
She nodded. “Yes; you’re right.”
“There’s usually a craft show the first three weekends the show runs every year. The fourth weekend is all cookies and baked goods most of which, I’m sure, barely make it out of the hall before they’re eaten.”
“Well,” she shrugged and smiled, “that would be a couple of weeks before Christmas anyway, you know.”
“True,” he said, chuckling.
She tucked her purchase away and continued on. When she reached the end of the row, she looked up at the clock on the wall over one of the sets of double entry doors into the large hall. 12:45. She gave a longing glance to the third row of craft vendors but then pushed the stroller out into the main hallway to watch for Morgan.
She didn’t have to wait long. Only a couple of minutes later, she watched as the other woman came into the hallway at the opposite end from outside. She too was pushing a stroller; one with a toddler girl inside.
Hannah blinked and looked again, not sure if it really was Morgan she was seeing. When Morgan sketched a wave, Hannah started toward her, eyes wide, pushing Jef out in front.
“Hello,” she directed at Morgan as she stopped Jef’s stroller just out of his reach from the one Morgan pushed. She stepped around the buggy and stooped, smiling toward the little girl as she asked, “and who is this?”
“This,” Morgan said, her voice shaking a little as she tugged off the child’s tasseled hat, “is my daughter, Esperanza.”
“Hi Esperanza,” Hannah said to the toddler whose full attention she had. “I’m Hannah.” She pulled her own stroller closer. “And this is my baby, Jef.”
The two toddlers reached for each other.
Hannah stood and looked at Morgan. “You should have told me.”
THE STROLLED INTO THE hall of trees side by side, pushing their offspring out in front.
“There must be 70 or 80 trees here,” Morgan said, shaking her head, marveling at the sight of them all.
They began to move along the winding pathway that had been created to lead patrons through the display, not talking at first, just taking it all in.
The two toddlers didn’t know where to look. They alternated between staring at the trees and displays on the floor all around them and staring at each other.
At the fourth tree, one covered in baked clay angels, each with the face of a young child, they stopped. “Zanesville Head Start,” Morgan read off the corporate donor’s sign, “A family of Friends, they named it and look, it already has a bunch of ‘favorite’ stickers.”
“It’s cute,” Hannah said, “And so is little Miss Esperanza.” She watched as the toddler stared up at the twinkling tree, her hands reaching out, wanting to touch it.
“Sometimes I call her Espy for short.”
Hannah quirked an eyebrow at Morgan.
Her...her dad is originally from Puerto Rico. He picked the name. It means ‘Hope’ in Spanish.”
“I like it,” Hannah said. “Where’s her dad now?”
Morgan looked down at her shoe tops but then she found the courage to look Hannah in the eye. “Her father is not in our lives, at all. Every once in a while, I get a little bit of child support from him but not often and never very much. He works construction, goes from job to job.”
When Hannah didn’t respond, Morgan turned the stroller back into the walkway and then plowed on with her story when Hannah followed. “It was a mistake being with him. I know that now but I wouldn’t give her up for anything. She’s...she’s all I really have.”
“No other family?” Hannah asked softly.
The brunette drew in a breath. “There’s my mother, as far as that goes. Me and Espy, we live with her. I pay most of the bills but she only tolerates me being there because of her,” she said, pointing down at her daughter.
Hannah let the comment drop unanswered. She really wasn’t sure what to say.
Halfway through the display, they came to a little stand selling coffee and hot chocolate. They took cups of the cocoa to a little table and sat to enjoy them while both toddlers dozed off in their strollers.
“A bit too much for them, I guess,” Hannah said.
Morgan chuckled and shook her head then blew across the top of her cup to cool her first sip. “Mmm. It’s good.”
A passer-by waggled her fingers and smiled at the two sleeping children and their mothers. Hannah and Morgan both smiled back.
“I suppose,” Morgan said, when the woman was out of earshot, “I should tell you a little more about me.”
Hannah was curious but also cautious. “You don’t have to. It’s okay.”
“No. I don’t want to keep any more secrets from you.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Growing up, my mom was an alcoholic. My dad left us when I was five. Since then, until I had Esperanza, she drank all of the time.”
“She doesn’t anymore?”
“No. Not now. Her new bad habit is giving me grief.”
“She stopped drinking for your daughter?”
“I suppose. It gave her something to live for, I guess. That and the booze was getting too expensive. The child support for me, from my dad, stopped coming when I turned 18. She only had her disability.”
They sipped more of their cocoa and looked about, avoiding each other’s eyes until Morgan spoke again. “It’s not a good situation, Hannah, but I’m making it work until I graduate. Then I’m going to look for a sous chef position somewhere nice, somewhere else where I can make enough to support me and Espy.”
“Does her dad ever see her at all?”
Morgan bristled. “He left me when I admitted I liked women too. I never told him I’m...I’m actually gay. He pays support only when Job and Family Services catches up with him and he never sees her. Denied she was even his until a DNA test proved it. Like I said, he’s not in our lives at all. He’s...he’s a little bit older than me; twenty-five.”
Hannah wasn’t sure if that last bit was what Morgan had intended to say but she let it go. She was feeling guilty. Morgan had spilled out her life story. Hannah felt like she now owed the other woman the complete truth.
“There’s something I should tell you,” she began.
The look on Morgan’s face changed from sadness to interest. “What?”
“I, uh, don’t just work at that bakery in Morelville. I own it.”
“Really?”
Hannah nodded. “Uh huh. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Why would you keep that a secret? I mean, I would tell the whole world!”
Hannah blushed.
They found the Barnwell tree in a back corner near the end of the string of sponsored trees. It was decorated in traditional style ornaments adorned with client logos and trademarks. There, under the holiday lights and decorations dangling down from overhead, it didn’t look as bad as they had expected it to.
“At least it’s green,” Hannah said.
Morgan laughed at that. “I know, right? I expected something weird like metal or some strange color. It doesn’t have a lot of vote stickers for the fan favorite though like some of the other trees do. There’s only two on here,” she said, as she fingered the placard on the fence post in front of the tree. “That makes me feel a little better about the direction we want to take our cake.”
“And, what direction is that?”
“I guess we never did get a chance to talk about that, did we?”
As Hannah shook her head, Morgan went on. “We talked about something that went along with the theme but appealed to men. We have the flavor and we can push the appeal of that but we nee
d to go with something less tiered and more sculpted, with a male sort of theme.”
“Agreed. So, what did you come up with?”
“Dads. We do a dad cake.”
Hannah looked skeptical.
“You’ve heard of groom’s cakes, right?” Morgan asked.
The strawberry blond spread her hands but didn’t respond.
“Seriously? You did live a sheltered life. It’s a cake apart from the wedding cake that more represents the groom. It’s usually sculpted. I say we do a sculpted dad cake representing things dads would do at Christmas time. I have some design ideas we could practice with.”
“We could use the bakery, after hours or even whenever you have time off.”
Morgan smiled. “It’s a deal.”
“THAT WAS FUN,” HANNAH said as they rolled their children through the parking lot.
Morgan let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “I didn’t know what you would think today...I...I was nervous.”
“You shouldn’t have been,” Hannah told her. “I have Jef. You have Esperanza. It’s sort of nice that you do. My last...my last girlfriend didn’t want to have anything to do with children.”
“That’s mine over there,” Hannah said, pointing toward her car. Both women went toward it.
Morgan held Jef’s stroller steady while Hannah took him out of it and got him buckled into his car seat.
When Hannah was finished, she straightened and turned back toward Morgan. “I really did have a good time and I think Jef here did too.”
“Would you like to go out again?” Morgan asked, in a rush of breath.
Hannah gave a slight nod. “Yes, I would, but how about we wait and we get together once this cake is done and we don’t have to think about that anymore? Would that be okay?”
“Sure,” Morgan agreed.
The two women looked at each other for several seconds, neither sure what else to say. Finally Morgan, still feeling a little braver, stepped closer to Hannah and reached out to give her a hug.
Their embrace was brief but it left Hannah full of longing, wanting what she’d been missing ever since she’d broken up with her girlfriend Jamie, more than a year before. She pulled slightly away, caught Morgan’s eye then leaned back in and kissed her lightly on the lips. She pulled back, feeling like every nerve ending in her body was firing but not at all sure how Morgan felt. She didn’t get to find out.
As they parted, Jef cooed from the car, “Mommy, kiss.”
“Yes baby.”
“Me kiss.”
Hannah bent and bussed Jef’s cheek.
“Me kiss!” Jef flung his little arm toward the door and Morgan standing just beyond it.
Morgan laughed, moved forward and bent and kissed the toddler too.
Chapter 12
Thursday, November 19th
The Offices of Barnwell, Inc.
Michael Barnwell strode down the hallway, smiling and nodding at the newest company intern as she passed him going the way he’d come. He liked Abby, thought she had a bright future ahead of her in advertising. He stopped short of the conference room doorway when he heard the voice of his other intern, Garrett West, inside. His smile turned to a frown and lines creased his forehead.
“Why am I just hearing about this now and why did I have to hear it first from your instructor, rather than from the two of you? I’m not happy. You’re not doing what I asked you to do.”
Barnwell shook his head. Bringing Garrett on board for an internship had been a mistake; he saw that now. He was looking forward to the holidays when the young man’s stint with the company would end and he would return to his home and then, presumably, back to school. He hated to give interns bad evaluations - there was merit in everyone, he thought - but, much as he hated the thought, he might have to make an exception with this one.
Inside the room, Hannah dropped her head but Morgan stood firm tilting her chin in a bit of defiance. “Our flavoring is different than anything else being offered and our design is strong. One of the best in the class, I’d say. There are twelve cakes Mr. West. Only three will be sculpted.”
Finding her voice, Hannah said, “Most of the rest will be decorated tiers. Barnwell’s will really stand out among the others. It...it, should appeal to the voters and to the bidders.”
“All I asked for,” West interrupted, “was something with major appeal to our clients. You two just don’t seem to get it.”
Barnwell had heard enough. He popped his head around the door frame, drew back like he was surprised to see there were people in the room.
“Oh, sorry,” he said as he walked in. “I hadn’t realized there was anyone in here.” He nodded to both Hannah and Morgan and then turned to West who was attempting to scramble to his feet from the half-slouched position he’d been in, in his chair moments before.
“When will you be heading back to your cubicle, Garrett? I’ve got a meeting scheduled for this room. I wasn’t aware you booked it.”
“We...we were just finishing up, Michael.”
“Very well then, you should get going.” He looked pointedly at the intern who took the hint, gathered his things and left the room.
Hannah and Morgan started to follow him out but Barnwell put up a hand, stopping them short. “Hello ladies, I’m Michael Barnwell, the owner and I take it you’re the cake team from the tech school?” He extended the hand he’d been holding up to Morgan, who was closer to him.
She took as she said, “Yes, that’s us.”
“The cakes are all new this year, you know? Of course, you know; what am I thinking?” He laughed at himself. “I must say, I’m really looking forward to your design...can’t wait to see all of them, actually.”
“Would you like to see it, sir? The design, I mean?” Hannah asked.
He waved a hand. “Michael, please and no, no. I’m looking forward to the whole surprise aspect of it. I trust that you’re cooking up something good, so to speak, with or without Garrett’s help.”
HANNAH PARKED IN THE first open slot, got out and waited while Morgan pulled her car into the next slot.
“I used to live near here, when I first left,” Hannah told the slightly taller brunette. “I walked through this park a lot going to work; even studied here too where it was quiet.”
“College?”
“No, GED. You only go to school through 8th grade in the order.” She touched Morgan’s arm lightly and guided her onto a walking pathway that led a short distance to a large gazebo. “We can sit in there until it’s time to head over to class or walk, if you’re cold and you’d rather be moving.”
“Sitting is fine,” Morgan said.
Hannah smiled as she climbed the three low steps into the gazebo. She looked over her shoulder at Morgan and explained, “This is where I met Dana. I was here studying and she was here...here working a case, I guess. We never really talked about it.”
“A case? Like a cop?”
“Yeah. She was with Customs then and then on her own for several months. She doesn’t do it anymore, not really.”
“Your life,” Morgan said, shaking her head, “it’s...I dunno. It’s something else.”
Hannah gave her a slight shrug in return. “Not mine. Dana’s and Mel’s. I’m just trying to take care of Jef and get my bakery going.”
Morgan took a seat on one of the wooden benches that ran in a ring around the octagon shaped building. “What did you make of Michael Barnwell?”
“What do you mean? I mean, he seemed nice.”
“Do you think he’s the one pushing the design Mr. West wants us to do?”
Not hesitating at all, Hannah shook her head no. She took a seat next to Morgan. “Do you?”
“No. Me either. I think he’ll really like what we’re planning on; I just get that impression from him, you know?”
“I guess. Mr. West is the one in charge though...of the TWIG thing, at least. Shouldn’t we try to change it a little to make him happy too?”
Morgan thought
about that for a minute but she drew a blank. “Without changing the design, I don’t know what else we could do.”
“I...I have an idea.”
“What? What is it?”
“What if we do cupcakes too?” Hannah asked. “The cake could stay the same but the cupcakes could be different flavors and decorated with the logos or...whatever. We could put them around the cake.”
“I like the cupcake idea,” Morgan said. “That would give us even more that no one else is doing but,” she pulled a face, “Chef already told us we shouldn’t do logos.”
Hannah leaned forward, an elbow on her knee, her chin in the palm of her hand, thinking. After a minute or so sitting that way, she tipped her head to the right and looked at Morgan. “Do you have your phone?”
“Yeah; why?”
“You took a picture of the Barnwell tree, right? What if we did a tree decoration on top of the cupcakes that looked kind of like their tree?”
“Now you’re thinking!”
They stopped at the end of the path before crossing the paved walkway and going into the parking lot to wait for a jogger. The runner stopped too, surprising both of them. Morgan tried to wave her on but the other woman’s eyes were fixated on Hannah.
Hannah stared right back at her. “Jamie?”
The jogger threw her hands out. “I thought it was you. What are you doing here?” She looked Hannah up and down in her coat and her school uniform. “Girl, I haven’t seen you in, like, forever and where’s uh...uh,” she seemed at a loss.
“Jef?”
“Yeah, him. Cute little guy,” Jamie said as she gave Morgan the once over and then fixed her eyes back on Hannah and smiled.
Hannah’s eyebrows rose. “He’s uh, at home. We’re headed to school. I’m in culinary school now.”
“Really?” She smiled again and looked back at Morgan. “I shouldn’t be surprised. She did all the cooking when we were together. She’s amazing!”
