The Aftermath

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The Aftermath Page 18

by Matayo, Amy


  Riley uses two hands to air quote her words. “‘Whatever it is’ is your request that I bake all these cupcakes for the concert tomorrow night,” she says. “I’m only doing it because she agreed to your terms without asking me.” She flings an arm in her grandmother’s direction. Her back is to us, and I’ve never actually met the woman, so I can only assume this is her.

  “What are you complaining about, child? I only agreed to it because—” she swivels her chair to look at us, and her mouth falls open. This is what I’m used to—the reaction people give when they spot Teddy for the first time. She’s star-struck. Stunned. Lost for words. Wide-eyed and speechless.

  So unlike Riley. When she met him a few seconds ago, she gave him an immediate hard time. It only solidified how strong my feelings for her are. She’s so refreshingly different.

  “You’re…but what…how did…” The poor woman can’t even form a sentence as she simultaneously reaches for a magazine and tries desperately to stand up. “You’re right here!” She shows him the cover of People, the same cover Liam and I were making fun of a few weeks ago.

  “Keep your seat, ma’am,” Teddy says. “Chad told me about your accident, and we don’t want to see you back in the hospital.” He helps to ease her back down, then introduces himself once he has her settled. “I’m Teddy Hayes. Nice to meet you. And that article is trash. Don’t believe a word of it.” He winks at her.

  The poor woman’s face blooms bright red, and she’s fanning herself. I glance at Riley in time to see her roll her eyes at the entire spectacle.

  “Grandma, for the love of your dignity…”

  “Hush up, child. And I know who you are, young man. You got my granddaughter featured in this same trashy magazine last week. I just don’t know why, or what you’re doing here in my apartment.”

  Teddy looks at her and shrugs. “My manager gave me your address, and the concert’s tomorrow night. We’re here to help get her bakery re-opened.” He picks up another cupcake and turns toward Riley. “Now show me how to decorate these things. The nicer they look, the more they’ll sell for. I didn’t get straight A’s in high school art class for nothing.”

  Sell for? I smile, wondering why I didn’t already think of that.

  Everyone just stares at him, so comfortable taking charge in someone else’s home. I laugh at the picture he makes and risk a glance at Riley.

  If she hadn’t put it all together before, she certainly is now.

  We’re here to get her bakery re-opened.

  She looks as stunned as her grandmother.

  EPILOGUE

  Two months later

  Chad

  I could have told that magazine reporter one thousand times to keep Teddy out of it, and he could have done as I asked every single time. But I forgot that Teddy has a way of inserting himself into things—whatever the thing may be. Not because he’s intrusive or full of himself as Liam and I often claim, but because his heart is so darn big. He can’t stay out of helping people. It’s ingrained in his DNA. He helped my brother and me with a place to live years ago when we both needed it, no questions asked. And I love him for it.

  He outdid himself this time.

  Now, as I’m watching it all unfold, I’m in awe.

  Teddy handed Riley a check for one million dollars. Just like that and without batting an eye, like it was pocket change he found lying on the pavement underneath his back tire. She tried to refuse it even as tears ran down her cheeks, but he wouldn’t listen to her protests. As for the rest of the town, he gave the city the remainder—just over two million. I have no idea how much of that came from the benefit concert and how much came out of his own pocket, and I’ll never ask. This is my roommate, folks. The guy I’ve known since college and love nearly as much as my own brother. The guy who would do anything for me without being asked, and has many, many times. The guy with a heart and soul bigger and deeper than his own bank account.

  He proved it once again, three million times over.

  Riley’s business is booming, and the new store hasn’t even opened yet. It’s all a little overwhelming, to say the least. Right now, she’s gnawing off her third fingernail, worried that Teddy still hasn’t shown like he promised he would. I have no doubt he’ll appear at the last second, but I’m not the one feeling the pressure of a grand re-opening.

  “I can try to call him again if you want, but I doubt he’ll answer. He’s been in Dublin and is probably sleeping on the plane as we speak.”

  Her sigh could bring decorated veterans to their knees. “I don’t need you to call him again. I just…” She curses under her breath, then drops her arm. “We’re opening in two hours. I’ve somehow gotten myself into the situation again of needing to decorate a hundred cupcakes before then, my biggest draw isn’t even here, and I just dropped an eggshell in the batter and can’t find it.” She sticks a finger inside the bowl and does a little exploration.

  “He’ll be here on time. I hope you washed your hands first.”

  When she side-eyes a beam of fire directly at my head, I want to take the words back. Her finger whips out of the bowl and points at my chest. I’m quite sure she’s just splattered my shirt with batter, but I don’t risk a look. I value my life too much.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me Teddy Hayes was your roommate.” And here we go again, the song we’re still singing two months later. “I told you I hated his music—wouldn’t let you play it in the bakery while we were making wedding cupcakes—and you didn’t think to tell me then?”

  Of course, I thought about telling her. I just chose not to. “I thought it was funny.” The shrug might be a bad idea, but I go with it.

  “Funny? You thought it was funny to hear me dissing your friend, the guy who handed me one million dollars and single-handedly funded the re-opening of this store? Have you seen the line of people outside waiting to get in to meet him? How is this funny? And when is he going to show up? And what possessed him to give me all that money? What if I ruin it? What if I’m a bad investment and he regrets—”

  “He won’t regret a thing, because you’re not a bad investment. And stop worrying—he’ll get here on time. But as to your first question, do you have any idea how many people—and I won’t only relegate it to women because men can be just as bad—want to be around me because of Teddy? Only because of Teddy? Let’s just say the number is high. I have never, not once in the last decade, heard anyone say anything less than flattering about him around me. And he’s a great guy, don’t get me wrong. I love him like a brother, and I’d punch anyone who said anything bad about him. But you’re the first woman in my entire adult life that didn’t grovel. Even better, telling you about him that day seemed like it might be a strike against me. And sue me Riley, but I like you. A lot. I wasn’t real interested in revealing what you might consider a major flaw back then.”

  She sobers, momentarily lost for words. Of course, it doesn’t last long. She steps closer and looks up at me, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

  “How much?”

  “How much, what?” I want to make her work for it.

  She reaches for my shirt and pulls me toward her. “How much do you like me?” Her gaze flicks to my lips, and my pulse begins to hammer in my neck. I slide my hands around her waist.

  “I’m here, aren’t I? Helping you decorate cupcakes again, taking your abuse.”

  Her head snaps back; a cute little crease forming between her eyebrows. “Abuse? Whatever. You also didn’t tell me about your mom. I had to find that out from my grandma.”

  “Here’s an idea, next time there’s a catastrophe, give me a phone number that actually works.”

  “If you cared, you would have found me without a phone number.”

  “I did find you without a phone number. It just took longer than I thought it would. But I was determined because, as I said, I like you. A lot.” I feel a whole lot more than like for Riley Mae, but I keep that part to myself. “But is that really what you’re go
ing to focus on right now? My shortcomings?”

  She holds up a finger. “Give me just a second to think about it. Hang on.” She breathes in and out one, two, three times, and then the finger drops and she pecks me on the nose. “Okay, I just…Teddy Hayes cannot come here with these cupcakes unfinished and the store looking like this.”

  “First of all, the store looks great.” I take a step back and look around at the tables draped with red and white checked cloths, the white iron chairs circling each, the black and silver soda-shop bar stools lined up along the counter, and the new Mae-ke Me A Cake sign glowing from the picture window. Downtown Springfield looks better from three blocks up, the place Riley chose to reopen. There’s an antique store across the street, a bookstore next door, and an art gallery on the opposite corner. This area of town screams trendy and touristy, a perfect little spot to re-establish a newly-opened business. A good thing, considering what’s been on my mind lately. “Second of all, Teddy Hayes leaves his dirty underwear on the bathroom floor for days at a time. A few undecorated cupcakes won’t faze him, trust me.”

  “I really didn’t need to know that.”

  I shrug. “Consider it free information. He’s coming to help with your grand opening, not to be impressed or entertained. And he’s doing it knowing you think his music sucks.”

  She bites her top lip like someone having second thoughts. “I’ve been listening to it. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

  An old kernel of jealousy scratches my backbone, and I stiffen against it. I’ve been down that road more than once with Teddy and my brother, and I won’t dodge the emotional potholes again. They’ve always only wanted the best for me; I see that now. It’s time I start returning the favor.

  “No, it isn’t. If you ask me, he’s pretty brilliant.” There. This is me being the bigger man, something I’ve failed to do in the past. But that’s the thing about the past, isn’t it? Once it’s gone, you only repeat it by choice. I choose not to, ever again. “Teddy’s the best, he really is.”

  “I wouldn’t use the word ‘brilliant’ yet for his music, but maybe one day I will. Right now, I’m just incredibly touched that he would do something like this for someone he barely knows. He must think a lot of you. I’ve never had a friend who would do anything like this for me. You’re lucky.”

  I blink, her words sinking into a place they’ve never reached before. She’s right. He did do this for Riley. But really, he did this for me. Teddy believes in me, believes my opinion matters, and wants me to be happy. He’s one of the most successful people in the country, but still manages to believe in me. I smile, wondering why it took me so long to realize it.

  “I am lucky. Very lucky.”

  She lowers the cupcake and looks at me. “So am I, you know. You didn’t have to walk into my bakery that first night, and you certainly didn’t have to stay. I wouldn’t have, not if someone had been as rude to me as I was to you. Thank you for staying, Chad. For keeping Bella calm, for helping me decorate hundreds of cupcakes without much complaining,” she smirks at her emphasis of much, “and thank you for this. If you hadn’t told your brother…” Her voice cracks on the last word, and she sniffs. “You’re the best thing that—”

  She presses her lips together and looks down, busying herself with the cupcake once again. I’ve never seen her pretending to be focused on her work as much as right now. Embarrassment looks good on her, and my chest softens at her discomfort. I reach out and touch her chin, pulling her face up to look at me. This seems like the best time to bring it up, so I take a deep breath and start talking before I lose the nerve.

  “I have an idea I’d like to run by you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

  Riley

  I glance over at Chad again, my eyes drifting his way like there’s some sort of magnetic force dragging them against my will. I’m still thinking about what he told me, still thinking about what it means, thinking about how much I like the idea. Way too much. Much more than I would ever admit to anyone but myself.

  “You like that boy, don’t you?”

  I force my face into a neutral expression and work to compose my emotions. This always works best when I start cleaning counters, so I reach for a rag.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She tugs the end of my hair. “I’ve known you since birth, raised you since you were seven, and recognize that expression on your face, the one you think no one notices. You’ve got it bad. All I’m going to say is this, don’t sabotage your happiness before it has a chance to start. Not everyone is like your grandfather, and I suspect this one isn’t. That boy seems like the type that sticks around. He came back, didn’t he? That already makes him better than most.” She clears her throat. “I like your hair this color, by the way. It looks nice on you.”

  A change in subject; swift, abrupt, no room to go back. So, I don’t.

  Even though I’m incredibly touched and verging on tears.

  “You like it?” If she’s done talking about my grandfather, then I am too.

  “I like it a lot.”

  Brown. My hair is entirely brown; the first time it’s been my natural color in years. The day I realized I was dyeing my hair bright and happy colors to make myself feel that way, I went back to the original. Fake it until you make it is no longer in my vocabulary. I’d rather be real, and let happiness come when it finds me.

  Not to say I won’t add color to it later; I’ve been toying with the idea of tipping the ends blue. But right now, I’m happy. All on my own. Maybe that feeling won’t last forever, but I’m enjoying it now. And being happy with myself feels best served on a bed of normal, even though I’m anything but.

  “Thank you. I like it too, though it took me a minute to get used to it.”

  “Oh, you can do something different later, after you get bored. As for the boy…”

  “He’s thirty years old, grandma. Hardly a boy.”

  “I guess that beats hooking up with a twenty-one-year-old then. At least in your misguided opinion.” She eyes Paul across the room and waggles her eyebrows. He’s still using one crutch to walk until his leg fully heals, but I’m so glad to have him back. As for my grandmother, thank God he can’t see the way she reacts to him.

  My grandmother will never not make inappropriate comments, something I’ve come to expect but never quite gotten used to. “You’re quite the full-blown cougar, aren’t you?” I say. “For your information, I don’t ‘hook up’ with anyone, and neither should you.” Paul stops at Amanda’s table, a brand-new corner table in a brand-new corner spot replicated to mimic the old one. I knew she would claim it as her own. Paul says something to her, and she smiles. My insides practically burst with joy, because it’s the first smile I’ve seen cross her face since the tornado. I feel good about them, have since I first spotted her months ago and started pestering him to ask her out.

  There’s a self-congratulatory smile on my face that I’m not aware of until it hits me.

  I’m a matchmaker, just like my grandmother.

  I drop the smile at the same time the bell jingles above the door.

  I look up as a tall, dark-headed guy I’ve never seen before walks in. He’s dressed in jeans and a white-button down shirt, seems incredibly confident in his sunglasses and carefully mussed hair, and it’s weird. He looks an awful lot like Chad. He pulls off the sunglasses, and I frown at the resemblance until Chad walks over and hooks an arm around his neck. Slowly it dawns on me, and I smile to myself at the picture they make.

  This is Liam. This is the brother who once spent several days stranded on an island. They’re sweet together, the way I might have been with my own brother.

  I’m forced to peel my eyes away when the door opens again, and Teddy walks in, taking the sadness I was beginning to feel away.

  Instantly the atmosphere in the bakery changes. It’s charged and electric, noisy and fidgety, buzzing with excitement and activity. Phones come out, and peop
le start taking pictures. We stipulated to no videos as a condition for admission, but photos weren’t restricted. That would have been too much to ask a room filled with excited people.

  Teddy walks up to the microphone, just as we planned. He makes a little speech, just as we planned. He sings the first two songs, just as we planned.

  The door opens again, and three people step in.

  Not at all as we planned.

  My mouth falls open in shock at what I’m seeing. She’s here. She’s really here. I try to keep one eye trained on the threesome and search for Chad at the same time. He’s across from me, positioned to watch Teddy play.

  But he’s staring straight at me, a similar shocked expression on his face.

  Like two rubber bands pulled back by a child’s finger, we launch forward at the same time, practically colliding in the open space by the front door. A few people watch us, but Teddy doesn’t skip a beat. All that matters is this moment, right here, right now. I’m on my knees with tears in my eyes with two grown strangers looking down at me like I might be crazy, but I don’t care. I barely even remember the path I took to get here.

  “Bella!” I breathe, searching the little girl’s face. “We missed you, but we couldn’t find you anywhere. Where have you been?”

  “She’s been with us,” the woman hovering over me says, reaching for Bella’s hand. I look up into her face—she’s maybe fifty or fifty-five. She doesn’t look angry or frightened. She’s relieved. “We’re her grandparents.” She gestures to the man beside her. “And you must be Riley. It took us forever to figure out who she kept talking about. Chocolate lady isn’t exactly much to go on. When she kept asking for princess cupcakes, I figured this might be the place to bring her. Are you the owner?”

  I laugh and wipe my eyes, standing up to shake the woman’s hand. Her grandmother. It’s nice to finally know Bella has never been lost or scared, even though Chad and I were.

 

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