Chapter 19

nineteen

PAUL

By the time Liam had set the table, I was ready to cook the pancakes.

"Would you like a glass of orange juice?" he asked.

"That'd be great. Amy will have milk." While Liam poured our drinks, I checked the skillet.

"What did you mean about having an off switch?"

I frowned, hoping he'd forgotten about our earlier conversation. "You said being serious has its downside. It's important to be able to change the way we react in different situations. Are there times when you feel less serious?"

"When I'm with my friends," Liam said as he walked into the butler's pantry.

"Why are you less serious with them?"

Holding a jar of peaches, he stepped back into the kitchen. "Because they know me better than anyone else."

"So it's a trust issue?"

"I wouldn't say that."

I knew I'd hit a raw nerve. "What would you say?"

Liam hesitated before answering. "It's difficult showing people the real me."

I filled a ladle with pancake batter and poured it onto the skillet. "It's the same for most of us. But, if you don't try, it just gets harder."

"Are you speaking from personal experience?"

I opened a drawer, searching for a spatula. "Before my parents and sister were killed, I had a great career, an apartment in Dallas, and a fiancé who meant everything to me. After the accident, I wasn't the bright, bubbly person Gary wanted in his life."

"Is this what you're looking for?" Liam held out a spatula.

I looked into his eyes and wished I hadn't. He understood what I'd been through and how losing someone changed your life.

"So you broke up with your fiancé?"

I flipped the pancakes. "No. I tried to be someone I wasn't. I took Amy to Dallas, plastered a smile on my face, and pretended everything was okay. But it wasn't. It turned out a ready-made family wasn't part of Gary's plans."

Liam muttered a curse under his breath.

"Exactly. A month later, Amy and I were back in Milwaukee, living in my parents' house."

"And that's when you started your cake decorating business?"

"Not right away. Amy and I needed time to get used to our new lives. After we'd settled into a routine, I had to work out what made me happy."

I waited for the pancakes to finish cooking before sliding them onto a plate. "If there's one thing I learned from my family's deaths, it's that life is too short to do things that don't matter. I loved teaching, but the hours were long, and I didn't want Amy growing up in childcare. My friends always asked me to make cakes for their birthdays or special occasions. That's where the idea for a fantasy cake business came from."

"And you found the real you?"

"As real as I could manage. I'm a work in progress." I poured more batter onto the skillet, hoping Liam understood why I'd told him about my life. Letting people see the real you was hard, especially if you'd trusted the wrong people.

Liam leaned against the counter, watching what I was doing. "Six years ago, I was married and had a daughter. One day, my husband and I were coming back from the railway station in separate cars. Another vehicle hit the car I was driving. Our daughter, Lacey, died, and my husband never forgave me. A year after the accident, I was divorced and living in a different city."

I replayed in my mind what he'd said. Being gay surprised me. Losing his daughter brought tears to my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I guess I'm a work in progress, too." He took a deep breath. "Amy reminds me of Lacey. They have the same sense of humor and enjoy the same things."

"How old was your daughter when she died?"

"Seven. Victor and I tried to adopt a child, but we were told it could take years. So we used a surrogate to carry Lacey. She was an incredible little girl."

It was hard enough losing my sister and parents, but to have lost Amy as well would have been more than I could bear.

"Uncle Paul!" Amy ran into the kitchen. "Look what I've found." With her hands cupped together, she held something close to her chest. "It's wiggly."

The ground outside was frozen, so the chance of Amy finding a worm was almost impossible. Butterflies, grasshoppers, and crickets were unlikely, too. That left two possibilities; a mouse or a bug.

I really hoped it was a bug. "What is it?"

"A baby mouse," Amy said proudly. "He's cold and hungry. Can we give him some cheese?"

"Where did you find him?" My stomach churned. I tried to sound interested, I really did. But all I wanted was to run as fast as I could out of the room.

Amy peeked through a gap in her fingers. "He was sitting in the bathroom. Do you want to hold him?"

I shook my head. "I think we should take him outside and let him go back to his mommy and daddy."

"But it's cold."

Liam opened the refrigerator door. "How about we give him a small piece of cheese in the barn? It's warm and sheltered, and there are plenty of places where he could hide."

Amy scrunched up her nose. "What if his mommy and daddy can't find him?"

"They'll know where he is," Liam said confidently. "Mice have special noses that tell them where their families are."

"They do?" Amy's eyes widened. "Even if their babies go far, far, away?"

"Especially if that happens."

Amy focused on the cheese. "I guess we could take him to the barn. Are you sure he'll be okay?"

"Positive. Let's go before it starts snowing again."

Amy nodded and followed Liam out of the kitchen.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Men with broken hearts I could handle. Small mice with long tails and twitching whiskers were off limits—especially if they brought their relatives inside.