by Mary Manners
One week turned into two, and Sweet Treats still had a long way to go before Mattie and her sisters could reopen the doors for business.
“You look tired, Tessa.” Mattie took the sponge from her sister’s hand. “That’s enough cleaning for today. You should be home with your feet propped up.”
“I still have three weeks to go, and I feel ready to explode.” Tessa eased into a chair at one of the wrought-iron tables and propped her feet onto the seat beside her. “How will I ever make it?”
“Go home and enjoy a good book.” Grace chased Nathaniel around the dining room while Natalie clutched her rag doll and squalled for a snack. “Soon enough, you’ll have your hands full, like me, with diaper changes and soccer games.”
Kate laughed as she took Natalie from her sister’s arms and popped a cracker into her mouth. The squall subsided, if only for a few moments. “Then your baby will be ready to start kindergarten, and you’ll wonder where all the time went.”
“You’re wishing my life away.” Tessa frowned. “I’ll keep my backache and swollen feet for now, thank you very much.”
“Works like a charm every time.” Mattie grinned at her sisters. “No use complaining, because there’s a blessing in every one of life’s stages, right?”
“Of course.” Grace glanced out the shop front window. “And here comes yours right now, Mattie.”
Mattie followed Grace’s gaze to see Tyler loping up the street, hauling a five-gallon bucket of paint in one hand as if it weighed no more than a pack of gum. He’d promised to finish painting the kitchen walls today while Jessie was at school, so the bakery could air out over the weekend. Then Mattie and her sisters would restock the shop and get the bakery reopened for business sometime late next week.
The bell over the door jingled as he entered. Mattie smiled. “Hi, Tyler.”
“Hey, Mattie.” He left the bucket beside the door and strode over for a kiss. “Smells good in here. You been baking?”
“I just dipped a few meltaways for you.” She handed him a small, white pastry bag. “I thought you might like to snack on some while you work, and a new stove was delivered just this morning.”
He dipped his hand into the bag, drew out a chocolate and popped it into his mouth. “Mmm…as good as I remember.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
Tyler turned to Tessa. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a whale.” She pressed a hand to her rounded belly. “A beached whale.”
“Is that so?” His laughter disguised the worry Mattie knew lurked beneath the laid-back veneer. She could sense the reservation in him each time he glimpsed Tessa’s child-swollen belly and she knew he imagined all the things that could go wrong during the baby’s birth. “The feeling will pass…in a couple of weeks.”
“Spoken like a man.” Tessa frowned. “Want to trade places?”
Tyler shook his head, clearly mortified at the thought. “No thanks. Not me. I’ll stick to painting.”
Grace laughed at their exchange while she gathered the twins’ diaper bag. “I’m going to head home and put these two munchkins down for a nap.”
“And I promised Logan I’d meet him for lunch.” Kate tossed her coffee cup into the trash. “So I’d better run by my house for a quick shower. I don’t think he’d appreciate the grime clinging to my clothes.”
Tessa yawned. “A nap sounds very appealing, so I think I’ll go, too.” She hauled herself from the chair and massaged her belly. “The little guy’s wide awake, though. I don’t think I’ll catch so much as a wink.”
Mattie squeezed Tessa’s shoulder. “Try a warm bath. Mama used to say that worked on us.”
“It’s worth a go.” Tessa waggled her fingers as she slipped through the shop door. “Happy painting, Tyler.”
When they’d left, Tyler turned to Mattie. “I think I’d like another.”
“Meltaway?”
“Kiss.” He eased into her arms, drawing her close, and sought her lips. The familiar scent of pine soap clung to his T-shirt and Mattie got lost in his touch as his breath warmed her ear. “Are you free tonight?”
“Depends.” She pressed a hand to his chest, felt the strength of him in taut muscles that formed broad shoulders. “What did you have in mind?”
“Dinner—just the two of us.”
“And Jessie?”
“Mrs. Smelcer, my neighbor, has offered to babysit. They’re going to microwave a bowl of popcorn and watch a movie. ”
“Sounds…appealing.”
“Which one…dinner or the movie?”
“Both.” Mattie grinned mischievously and nipped at his lips. “But I choose you.”
“You won’t be sorry.” He brushed a thumb across her cheek. “Now, I guess I’d better get to work before I get too…sidetracked.” He winked and reached for the bucket of paint.
“And I guess I should head upstairs, check the stock room.”
“The stock room…way upstairs.” He nodded and turned, though his gaze said he wanted to stay. “That’s a good idea, Mattie. A very good idea.”
****
Tyler whistled to music that drifted from the stockroom overhead. Nearly half an hour had passed, and his pulse had yet to return to normal. He dipped the roller into the paint tray and slapped a splash of color on the wall. Mattie had chosen the shade—an earthy-brown hue the color of wheat beneath a hint of sunset. It suited the room, added a sense of calm to the chaos he knew erupted whenever all four women came together to work their magic in the kitchen.
Mattie’s voice carried through the ceiling as she sang along with the radio. He loved the sound of her voice, the way she belted out a tune with abandon. He knew that over the years, she’d carried the weight of raising her sisters, an awesome task, yet somehow she still managed to hold onto a sense of adventure that shined through from time to time.
Tyler finished the first wall and moved onto the next. Paint covered the drywall that replaced two-by-fours singed by the fire, and filled the room with its distinct odor. The kitchen—the bakery—had weathered the blaze and would reopen even stronger—and better—than before, with the help of friends.
Wasn’t that so much like life?
Tyler’s whistles matched the smooth, southern cadence of Mattie’s voice, and he anticipated the evening ahead. He and Mattie would share a date…an entire evening alone together. The idea both terrified and exhilarated him, and he wondered if Mattie felt the same. There was so much to talk about…even more to learn.
She’d made good on her promise to help Jessie skate. The two had spent nearly every afternoon at the pond, giggling over new moves and the inevitable spills that followed as techniques were mastered. Tyler tagged along, and snapped a few pictures. Jessie used them to start a memory book, and she put her love of writing to good use, as well.
But the coming spring would soon bring an end to open-air skating. The ice rink would close in a day or so. A hint of warm air breathed life into a platoon of flowers that poked their heads from the cold ground, and willow trees along the boulevard began to green. Soon, the frozen pond would melt into gentle rivulets of water that kissed a grass-covered shore.
New life, Tyler thought…new beginnings.
7
“Tell me more.” Mattie spun linguini noodles around the tines of her fork as Tyler wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. The dinner crowd at Peterson’s restaurant was in full swing, and the hushed murmur of voices mingled with soft piano music that drifted from surround-sound speakers hidden in the ceiling. Candlelight flickered along the walls, and Mattie’s sleek, loose hair shimmered in the soft light. Tyler longed to run his fingers through the silky mass and press his face to the floral scent that mingled with the aroma of pasta sauce and garlic butter.
“So I cornered Fluffy.” He cleared his throat and continued. “But the mischievous cat jumped right through my arms.”
Mattie gulped, her onyx eyes huge. Her mouth dropped open in a plump, round pucker, smooth with a hint of what he
knew to be berry-flavored lip gloss. He’d had the pleasure of sampling the taste, and he was anticipating a second helping before the night ended. “Oh, no. Did she get…Nibbles?”
“You bet she did. And, guess what?”
Mattie gazed across the table, her pasta-filled fork poised in midair. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“Fluffy lumbered right up to the terrified rodent and licked him on the snout. Then she stalked away, completely disinterested.”
“Playing hard-to-get, huh?” Mattie laughed and slipped the fork into her mouth. She chewed the linguini slowly, and then washed down the bite with a sip of lemon-garnished ice water.
“No kidding, Mat. They’ve got a little romance going on now, if you can believe that.”
“No way.”
“Yes. Fluffy wouldn’t harm a hair…um, I mean a whisker…on the little rodent’s snout.”
“Whew, that sure was a close call.” Mattie brushed her forearm across her brow and gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. She placed an elbow on the table and leaned in, propping her chin on her upturned palm. “So, you and Jessie endured all that worrying for nothing.”
“Apparently.” Tyler sipped sweet tea and grinned. “Who would have imagined a cat and a hamster living in harmony?”
“And Jessie?”
“She thinks it’s a hoot. And it is.” He rolled his eyes. “She’s worn out the shutter on my digital camera, snapping pictures.”
“Speaking of pictures, how’s the memory book coming along?”
“We’ve been working on it. I’m not very creative in the art department, but Jessie picks up the slack. And you’ve been a big help, too. The pages are nearly filled.”
“I like scrapbooking…when I have the time.” She sighed. “My mom used to keep meticulous photo albums, filled with notes and memory verses. I really dropped the ball as far as that goes. I even forgot my camera when Tessa graduated from college.”
“You can’t be expected to do everything, Mat. You were tossed into an awful set of circumstances.”
“You’ve been, too, yet you’ve managed to hold it all together.”
“By God’s grace…” He nodded. “By the way, Jessie loves the skating outfit you gave her…the dress and leg warmers.”
“Oh, that.”
“It was yours at one time, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, ages ago.”
“I’ll bet you were cute…gliding along the ice in a shimmery skirt, all graceful and flowery.”
“Flowery?” A hint of blush crept across Mattie’s cheeks.
“You know what I mean, Mattie. You still have that look…something special, lovely.”
“I…don’t see it.”
“Well, I do.”
He speared a grilled shrimp and raised his fork to his mouth. “Did any of your sisters skate?”
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head, dipped her fork into the pasta once more and spun it to gather a few noodles. “Just me. Grace liked soccer—”
“Like Adam, right?”
“Yes. Kate was into books…she had her room filled and catalogued like a library. There was hardly room for a bed.” Mattie shook her head. “And Tessa, well, you know how she loves clothes and shoes. I always thought she’d be a fashion designer.”
Tyler stuck the shrimp in his mouth. “She’s the most fashionable mother-to-be that I’ve ever known.”
“Right. This pregnancy’s been hard on her, though. She’s awfully young…”
“She’s smart, though, Mat. And Colin’s clearly head-over-heels for her.”
“You’re right about that. Who would have imagined, with the way they met…the two of them settling into marriage as seamlessly as they’ve managed.”
“You mean at the crisis center?” Tyler motioned the server to bring two cups of coffee. “I heard about the hostage situation there. Mrs. Sloane helps out in the bakery now, doesn’t she?”
“Yes. And Jason Sloane makes deliveries for us when we need the help.”
“That’s good. I mean, I’m glad it turned out OK.”
“For everyone, right?” Mattie sighed wistfully. “Well, my sisters make beautiful babies. I wish I was that young again. I’d like…I mean, I want…”
“What, Mat? What do you want?”
“I’d like to have a baby, Tyler. One day. Maybe. If it’s not too late.” She gulped hard, and tears filled her eyes. “I’ve watched each of my sisters…seen the love they’ve shared, felt it as if it were my own. And yet…”
Tyler’s heart twisted at the sight of her tears, and he forced back the urge to brush them away. He hadn’t thought about children…hadn’t even considered the idea. He wanted to nod and smile, say it was a great idea, but the rock in his gut told him otherwise. The danger was too great…given what had happened to Lydia…to Noah. An awkward silence fell as the server brought their coffee. Tyler splashed cream in his cup, stirred in a heaping spoonful of sugar. His throat felt dry and tight, and he knew he’d choke if he tried to sip the brew. So he let the cup sit there, the contents cooling as he mulled over his words. “I’m sorry, Mattie. I’m just not sure how I feel about that…if I can handle…,” he let the words drift, avoiding her tear-filled gaze. “What if something were to happen to you…to the baby—our baby? I don’t think I could survive it again.”
“I know the thought frightens you, Tyler. What you’ve been through…I can hardly imagine.” Mattie’s round eyes flashed beneath the candlelight as she dabbed them with her napkin. “Maybe I’m being selfish. Maybe—”
“No.” Tyler cut her off. His breath came in quick bursts that he fought to control. He balled his napkin and tossed it onto his plate, still full of steamed shrimp over angel hair pasta. His heart rate kicked into overdrive as he relived the complete and utter loneliness that followed Lydia’s death, the gaping, empty hole that he couldn’t seem to fill. For months afterwards, guilt riddled him. Maybe there was something more that could have been done—some sign he should have picked up on that might have staved off the disaster. “It’s not selfish at all. But we have to both be on the same page here, to make it work. I have a good life, a daughter I love. And I’m falling in love with you more each day, Mattie. But is it enough for you…if we never have a child?”
****
Was it enough?
Mattie forced back tears and swallowed a mouthful of pasta, though her throat burned.
“I’m sorry, Tyler.” She set her fork down on the plate and reached for her cup of coffee. A sip of the muddy brew scorched her throat as her eyes filled with hot tears. “I’ve ruined everything with my silly wishes.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry, Mat.” His eyes darkened beneath the candlelight. “I should have told you sooner. I just thought…I never imagined you’d be so dead-set on having children after spending so many years raising your sisters.”
“But I love Jessie. Is that so different?”
“No. I guess not.”
“Love isn’t something that diminishes when you share it, Tyler.” Mattie slipped her hand across the table and twined her fingers with his. “It can only grow and multiply.”
“Of course.” He brushed a knuckle across her palm, and she shivered. “I know that. But I can’t seem to get the fear of losing you out of my head.”
Mattie pressed her free hand to her lips as tears flooded her eyes once more. Couldn’t Tyler see…that he was losing her, now? “So, what do we do?”
“I…don’t know. Give me time, Mattie.” His gaze pleaded. “I do know how I feel about you, and nothing will change that. I just have to work through this…come to terms with the idea.”
“OK, Tyler. Let’s—” She paused as her cell phone vibrated. “Sorry…I’d better get this.”
He waited while she drew the phone from her purse and checked caller ID, then quickly flipped the phone open.
“Grace?”
“Come quick, Mattie. Tessa’s in labor. The baby’s coming now.”
8
“Oh, just
look at him.” Mattie beamed as she gathered the tiny bundle wrapped in a pastel blue receiving blanket into her arms. She pressed her nose to the baby’s crown of matted, dark hair and inhaled the soft, musky scent distinctive of all newborns. Tyler knew the scent well. He remembered holding Jessie for the first time. “Hello, Cole,” Mattie murmured in her slow southern cadence, her voice like a cheerful melody. “You’re beautiful.”
A lump formed in Tyler’s throat as he listened to her hum a light tune, punctuated by a soft kiss to the baby every now and then. He remembered Lydia doing the same to Jessie the day she was born, and also the absence of song, the emptiness that followed, at the stillborn birth of Noah and Lydia’s death.
There was no one to share that loss with, no one to comfort him as he placed both his wife and son into the damp earth on a cold, wet October morning. His chest constricted at the memory of the pastor’s final prayer and the eerie way the words drifted and died on a stiff breeze. When he’d turned from the flower-laden caskets with Jessie’s tiny hand sheltered in his, Tyler had no idea where he was supposed to go next.
Mattie’s gentle humming brought him back. Her fingers twined with his, bringing a measure of comfort as she smoothed his palm to her cheek. “Do you want to hold him, Tyler?” She turned in the folding chair to offer him the baby, who continued to sleep soundly through the chaos.
“Not now.” Tyler slipped his hand from hers, putting a measure of distance between them. He paced the length of the side wall, glancing back toward the bed where all four sisters were huddled around the tiny bundle. Their cooing rushed like a deafening tidal wave through his ears. He lifted his gaze, began to count the ceiling tiles…anything to bring a distraction from the memories that seeped like floodwater through the fissures in his heart.
“Practicing for your shot at this?” Logan startled him, and Tyler lost count of the tiles. He gasped and realized he was holding his breath. He sucked down a gulp of air and loosened the collar of his polo shirt. Logan raised one eyebrow and offered a lopsided grin. “You pace like a pro.”
