Dial M for Mousse

by Laura Bradford

  “We’re back.”

  There was no denying the thrill of excitement that coursed through her body as she pushed the gate closed and headed back around the car to the driver’s side. “Back, back?”

  His laugh reached through the line and made her smile, too. “Back, back. As in, sitting in my living room right now, as a matter of fact, and dying to see you as soon as you’re done with this rescue.”

  She stopped mid-jig as the reality that was her evening crashed ashore. “Wait. I have to bake. And go to a magic show.”

  “A magic show? Where?”

  “My front porch.”

  His laugh was back but it stopped shy of resurrecting the same in her. “Mr. Nelson, I presume?”

  “Good guess.” She slipped onto the seat after Lovey and inserted the key in the ignition. “And Renee is having a big just-because party for Ty tomorrow morning and I promised to make all the treats—ice-cream cone cupcakes, brownies, cookies, et cetera, et cetera.”

  “Okay, so slap an apron on me and I’ll help. But, fair warning, I don’t care about the whole raw-eggs-in-the-cookie-dough thing.”

  Her smile was back as was the image of the kiss she’d been thinking about off and on since Jay left for California. “Duly noted. I’ll order pizza and we’ll make a date of it!”

  “Fantastic. This’ll be good for Caroline.”

  She paused her hand on the gearshift. “Caroline?”

  “I’m all done trying to compartmentalize. Caroline needs to see the way we are together, Winnie. So she knows it’s real.”

  “So y-you’re bringing”—she stopped, swallowed, and made herself continue—“Caroline?”

  “If that’s okay . . .”

  She swallowed again, the taste of disappointment (and fear?) unpleasant on her tongue. “Oh. Yeah. Sure, it’s okay. It’ll be . . . fun.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  Chapter 21

  She’d just pulled her hair into a fresh ponytail when she heard the footsteps—one set propelled by enthusiasm, and the other heavy with dread—on the staircase leading up to her apartment.

  “You can do this, Winnie,” she whispered to her reflection. “Just be yourself. Pretend she’s sixty instead of sixteen and you’ve got this . . .”

  The faintest hint of fur along her ankles brought her focus down to the floor and Lovey. “I could use your help tonight, Your Highness.”

  Lovey replied with one slow blink before trotting out of the bedroom and toward the male voice now echoing through her kitchen.

  “Winnie? We’re here!”

  Squaring her shoulders, Winnie took one last look at herself, finger-brushed the end of her left eyebrow down, and then left the safety of her bedroom for the great unknown. Yet the second she rounded the corner and saw Jay standing there, all nervousness gave way to unadulterated joy.

  For a moment she couldn’t move, her gaze riveted on the man now smiling back at her as she worked to find her breath.

  Jay Morgan was, in a word, handsome. Not double-take-hot in the way so many women found Greg, but handsome in that classic, quietly wow kind of way. At six feet tall, he owned his height with a quiet confidence that was more about his age and his life experiences than it was about anything else. The sprinkling of gray in his otherwise light brown hair lent a distinguished aura to the thirty-nine-year-old. His strong chin, infectious smile, and friendly blue-green eyes simply completed the picture.

  “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes . . .” He met her midway between the entryway and her bedroom door and scooped her up and into a hug. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”

  She buried her face in his shoulder and reveled in his smell, his nearness, and his warmth. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  And it was true, she had.

  She’d been so busy bracing herself against the possibility of being hurt, that she’d almost convinced herself she’d be okay if Jay called it quits after reuniting with his ex. But there, in his arms, she knew it was a lie. Jay was the missing piece in her life she hadn’t realized was missing before they met. Now, when he wasn’t around, the hole he filled was so all-encompassing she wasn’t sure how she’d been so oblivious to its existence in the first place.

  Slowly, he lowered her back down to the ground, prompting her eyes to open on the clearly unhappy sixteen-year-old still standing in the open doorway.

  “Caroline!” She parted company with Jay’s arms and held her hand out to the girl. “It’s good to see you. Did you have a fun trip?”

  “I wish we were still there.” Caroline inched her way into the entryway and around Winnie’s hand. “Everything is so much better there. And I do mean everything.”

  Unsure of what else to do, Winnie brought her hands together in a quick clap and then hooked her thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “I thought maybe, instead of calling and ordering a pizza for delivery, we could each make our own. I stopped at the store and picked up all sorts of toppings so you can pretty much make your dream pizza.”

  “I like mine plain,” Caroline said as she slouched against the nearest wall and cast a look of pure disdain at the topping-filled bowls Winnie had arranged around the island prior to their arrival. “And from Luigi’s.”

  “Caroline!” Jay said, his voice sharp.

  Winnie rested her hand atop his shoulder. “No, no, it’s okay. I’ll just place an order with Luigi’s. Once it’s ready, it’ll only take a few minutes to drive into town and pick it up.”

  “No. I think making my own pizza sounds like fun and that’s what we’re going to do.” He crossed to the island and the waiting bowls and took a moment to inspect each one, his smile returning as he pointed at the last few. “You have ham? And pineapple? I love ham and pineapple pizza!”

  “Yeah, I—”

  “Mom got you on that when you were dating, didn’t she?” Caroline pushed off the wall and quickly closed the gap between the wall and her father with an almost-skip.

  Jay’s head snapped up, his cheeks red. “She introduced me to it but—”

  “I’ll put that on my pizza, too.” Caroline’s gaze moved across the island before landing on Winnie with a smirk. “After all, I am my father and my mother’s child.”

  Winnie took a deep breath, counted to ten in her head, and then joined them in the kitchen, her smile wooden, at best.

  Don’t let her get to you . . .

  “I made the dough when I got home from the store and it’s chilling in the refrigerator.” She opened the door and glanced back over her shoulder at her guests. “Are you ready to have a little fun?”

  Jay’s answering smile stopped short of his eyes. “We’re ready.”

  As she transferred the dough balls to the counter, she gave a running commentary on the various ways they could flatten their dough. Jay, of course, opted to toss it in the air, narrowly missing a curious Lovey as he fumbled it on its way back down.

  “Oops.”

  “Slick, Dad,” Caroline mumbled as she pushed the heel of her hand into her own dough ball.

  Winnie rescued the dough from the floor and tossed it into the wastebasket. “No pizza for you, mister.” Then, before he could truly react, she returned to the fridge for another dough ball. “Just kidding. Here you go.”

  Again, he tossed it into the air, and again, it missed his hands on the way down. Only this time, instead of hitting the floor, it landed on the island.

  A peek at Caroline revealed the faintest hint of a smile on the girl’s otherwise expressionless face.

  “Don’t throw it so high, and move your hands like this.” Winnie demonstrated with her own dough ball. When it was the way she wanted it, she rested it atop the pie pan and set it aside. “Okay, now try it again.”

  While not perfect, Jay kept control of the dough with the tip of his nose the only notable casualty.

  This
time, Winnie’s clap was heartfelt as was the smile she couldn’t hide. “Look at you! Look out, Luigi—Jay Morgan is in the house.”

  A giggle from just over Winnie’s shoulder netted the first real smile on Caroline’s face since her arrival.

  “Oh, you think that was funny?” Jay teased. “How about you give it a whirl, dear daughter of mine.”

  “Mine is already flat.” Caroline pointed at the dough now stretched across her own pie pan. “See?”

  Jay crossed his arms and leveled a playful stare at his daughter. “But you did it the easy way.”

  “No, I did it the smart way.”

  “You mean the girly way.”

  Winnie sucked in a breath. “I’d say those are fighting words, wouldn’t you, Caroline?” Then, without waiting for the girl’s reply, she marched back to the refrigerator, extracted another dough ball, and handed it to Caroline. “Show him how it’s done, kiddo.”

  “My pleasure.” Caroline took the dough and flattened it a little the way Winnie had demonstrated. Then, with a quick glance at Winnie for confirmation, she lifted it into the air, gave it a few circular tosses and lowered it down to a waiting pie pan with a face-splitting smile. “And that’s how it’s done, Dad.”

  “Yeah, Dad.” Winnie teased.

  “Great, now you’re ganging up on me.” He snaked his arm around Winnie’s waist and pulled her close. “I’m not sure I like two against one.”

  “You didn’t mind it when Mom and I ganged up against you in that pillow fight the other night,” Caroline said.

  Pillow fight?

  Caroline’s eyes crackled with something Winnie couldn’t place. “And you let Mom stay that first night.”

  “Caroline!”

  Winnie steadied herself against the counter as Caroline’s words exploded in her head.

  Didi stayed? With Jay and Caroline?

  “And you didn’t mind it when Mom and I took turns trying to choo-choo train those green beans into your mouth earlier that same night, either.”

  Choo-choo train green beans into—

  No.

  Let it go. She’s trying to shake you.

  Winnie sensed Jay moving, even heard him clearing his throat over the dull roar in her ears, but beyond that, she was at a loss.

  “Caroline, that’s enough, young lady!”

  Inhaling sharply, Winnie forced herself to refocus, to take control of the evening. “Um, so next up is the sauce. Just spoon on however much you want and spread it out as far as you want it to go on the crust.” She hated the uncertainty she heard in her voice, but considering the tears that were amassing in the corners of her eyes, it was better than the alternative. “Then you can put whatever toppings you want on top of that and I’ll pop them into the oven.”

  She did her best to focus on the steps as she’d outlined them, tried to lose herself in the fun of spreading the sauce and sprinkling the cheese, but her thoughts kept traveling back to the picture Caroline had painted—a picture very different from the one Jay had painted during their last real phone conversation before he’d left California.

  Was Caroline telling tales? Or was Jay massaging the truth? And where, if anywhere, did that leave Winnie?

  When her pizza was done, she carried it over to the preheated oven, the weight of Jay’s eyes making her footfalls heavy. She knew he was waiting for eye contact so he could gauge the damage his daughter had caused, but she wasn’t ready. Her head was still reeling from the things Caroline had said and the way they’d made Winnie feel.

  “Okay, anyone else’s done?”

  “Mine is,” Jay said, his tone hesitant. “Caroline?”

  “Yeah, it’s done.” Caroline pushed the pan across the island to Winnie. “I opted to stick with plain. Ham and pineapple is Mom and Dad’s thing.”

  Winnie slid her fingers under the edge of both pans, carried them to the oven, and slipped them onto the rack below hers. When the door was shut and the timer set, she turned around to find Jay shooting daggered stares at Caroline. Caroline, in turn, stared back in defiance.

  Alrighty, then . . .

  Somehow, they managed to make it through dinner, although the lightness Winnie had felt upon seeing Jay for the first time, and again when they were tossing the dough, was long gone. She tried to keep a conversation going, as did Jay, but it seemed no matter what topic they came up with, Caroline was determined to bring it back to her mother.

  Finally, as dinner morphed into dessert, and dessert morphed into Winnie’s need to bake, Jay’s patience ran dry.

  “Caroline, please. That’s enough about Didi Evans. You’ve recounted every moment of the trip and then some.”

  The sixteen-year-old’s eyes turned fiery. “Dad! You just said mom’s name out loud!”

  “What? You think I’d keep something like that from Winnie? C’mon, Caroline, knock it off.”

  The teenager’s death glare widened to include Winnie even though her answer was directed at Jay. “But you’ve told me not to tell anyone.”

  A lot of good that did . . .

  Winnie closed her eyes against the memory of Caroline’s soccer-playing classmate and tried, instead, to put herself anywhere but where she was at that moment. Like maybe a beach somewhere . . . or standing in the winner’s circle at a national pie-baking contest . . . or holding hands with Jay across a table at Beans.

  “That’s right, I did.” Jay planted his elbows on the edge of the table and leaned forward until his daughter’s attention was squarely back on him. “At your mother’s request.”

  A flash of something resembling pain skittered across the teenager’s face before being cast off by a shrug. “That’s okay. After Mom does that interview with Hollywood Tonight she was telling me about, everyone is going to know I’m Didi Evans’s daughter. Everyone.”

  Chapter 22

  Even if Winnie had never been to Renee’s house (which she had) and had no idea where it was (which she did), there’d be little to no doubt she’d found the right place. It was the only house in all of Silver Lake that was, apparently, under siege by a dozen ten-year-old boys wearing swim trunks and darting behind trees, their hands heavy with water balloons.

  For a moment, she simply sat there, beside the curb, watching as a smaller-than-average redhead crouched quietly behind a Bradford pear tree as a fellow partygoer unknowingly drew closer to his drench zone. Part of her wanted to warn the unsuspecting boy, but another part of her (the one that was still cranky from the previous evening) was having too much fun watching the redhead slowly cock his arm in preparation for his attack.

  “Here we go, Lovey, watch this . . .” Without taking her eyes off the scene, she directed the tabby’s attention across her lap and through the driver’s-side window. “One . . . two . . . three—Wham! Bull’s-eye!”

  Unsuspecting Boy’s resulting shriek sent the redhead running for the backyard for what was surely a blow-by-blow recap of the encounter. Provided Unsuspecting Boy didn’t plug him with a water balloon before he made it across the side yard . . .

  She breathed in the lightness of the moment, removed her foot from the brake, and steered the Dessert Squad all the way onto Renee’s driveway. With a flick of her wrist, she shifted into park and turned off the engine, eyeing Lovey closely as she did.

  “You ready to get your first taste of over-the-top craziness, Your Highness? Because if you think things get a little crazy when I’m baking sometimes, that’s nothing compared to a gathering of ten-year-old boys.”

  Lovey stood up on the passenger seat and wagged the tip of her tail. The movement, in and of itself, wasn’t earth-shattering, but considering it was the same thing the cat did when they arrived at each and every rescue, it said enough.

  “Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you . . .” Winnie dropped the keys and her phone into the inside pocket of the uniform she’d offered to wea
r despite it being a Saturday and shoved the door open. Before her feet even hit the concrete, Lovey was on the ground and sniffing her way across the front lawn.

  A door just inside the open garage creaked open and Renee’s perfectly tanned face peeked out. “Get in here quick! Ty and the rest of the boys are feverishly filling balloons with the hope of ambushing anyone and everyone within launching range.”

  “They wouldn’t hit me! I have the desserts, remember?”

  Whispers and giggles from the left side of Renee’s house revealed eight sets of eyes atop eight shiver-inducing grins peeking out at her from behind a nearby hedge.

  Uh-oh . . .

  Swooping her hands toward the ground, Winnie grabbed Lovey (mid-sniff) and dashed through the garage and into the small, yet protected, confines of Renee’s kitchen. When she was sure they were safe, she closed the door and leaned against it, panting.

  Hisss . . .

  She lifted Lovey into her field of vision and shook her head. “I save you from certain dousing and you hiss at me? Are you serious?”

  Hisss . . .

  “Silly me, I thought she’d finally turned a corner on the whole hating-me thing.” Winnie lowered the cat to the linoleum floor and let go, shaking her head as she did. “Remind me again why Gertie left me this ungrateful creature?”

  “Because Gertie loved and trusted you and obviously felt you were the best choice to take care of Lovey.” Renee stepped back, surveyed Winnie from head to toe, and then crossed to the kitchen counter she was obviously transforming into a lunch buffet complete with mini hot dogs, cheese sliders, and pizza balls. “Though, looking at you right now, I have to wonder if she wanted Lovey to take care of you.”

  Winnie smoothed her paramedic jacket down around her hips. “As if Lovey would ever take care of me. Puh-lease.”

  “You said she kept you company at the computer the other night, right?”

  “Yeah . . .”

  “And you said she’s been following you around the apartment more the last day or so, right?”