75. Marnie

Love and life and secrets go hand in hand.

You hold your hand of cards close to your chest. The trick is knowing how and when to show them.

Dusty told me his worst secret, and it didn’t change a thing.

If anything, my love runs deeper. I didn’t know how bad it was for him and Sienna. He’s not one to burden people with his problems.

Maybe if he was willing to ask for help, he wouldn’t have felt driven to those desperate lengths. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, there’s a bravery and an honor in the choices he made. He sacrificed himself, his name, his future, for his mother and sister. And I’m not going to punish him for that.

Still, clearing the air doesn’t always make it easier to breathe.

We were already in a funky place when I got the call from Glenna.

It will be my first funeral as a baker in Silver Bend.

And for a sixteen-year-old boy who played violin like an angel.

Maybe it was because I heard him playing in her flower shop and said he had a special gift. Maybe it’s because she and my mother went to school together, but Glenna Henry called me asking if I’d make the cake for his funeral.

I poured my heart into it. And still, that wasn’t enough to soothe the ache in my heart. I only met Maddox once, but funerals like these are hard for me. And the fact that Maddox drowned strikes a melancholy chord, too similar to my mother’s death.

Dusty helps me carry the cake into the church basement and I put the final touches on it. He wraps an arm around my waist, and we stand back, looking at it.

He kisses the top of my head. “It’s beautiful, Marnie. You did Maddox proud.”

There are sheet cakes, too. Lemon poppyseed, because the bright tone in the citrus reminded me of his clear, sweet violin notes.

I made a two-tiered cake, wrapped in fondant painted music sheets. A white and gold violin rests on top. Two soft, white angel wings made from feathered rice paper hug the base of the cake.

I know it might look like flour and honey and butter. But that cake is a prayer. My sympathies and my heart wrapped up in sugar.

Dusty runs his thumb up and down the stiff fabric of my black dress. “You doing okay, Marnie?”

“Yeah.”

My voice is too bright. “I’m fine.”

But I’m not.

You never really get over the loss of a loved one. You just keep moving because what else can you do? There are good days and bad days. This is one of those bad days.

Dusty’s friend, Skyler, comes in with his mom. I’m not sure how they knew Maddox, but Skyler’s mom is a complete mess. Dusty excuses himself to talk to them.

I’m putting the final touches on the cake, fluffing the feathers to make them look softer, when a tiny old lady stops by the table. “Oh, my land. This cake is absolutely lovely, dear.”

I turn to smile at her. She’s pint-sized, with her white hair in a soft chignon. Her husband leans on a polished wood cane. But even stooped with age, he towers over us both.

She offers me her delicate hand. “I’m Julietta Lind.”

“Oh.”

Great. Another Lind. I recover quickly, smiling as best I can. “Marnie Black.”

Julietta nods, glancing up at her husband. “Hear that, Jim? I told you this was Naomi’s daughter.”

His lips press into a thin line. “Any man with two eyes in his head can see that this young lady is a Novak.”

“Now he says so.”

Julietta gives her head a little shake. “We knew your mother, dear. She went to school with our boy, Jerry.”

“Yeah… I’ve met him.”

“Have you now?”

Julietta smiles, but it falters. Her lip wavers. “Jim… just look at her. Do you think the baby might have looked like her?”

“Judging by the stamp the Novak gene leaves on their kin, I’d say it’s a safe bet.”

He wraps a hand around Julietta’s frail arm. “Now, let’s get a move on before you start saying more than you ought.”

She digs her heels in. “And just why do you think I wanted to talk to the girl in the first place?”

Jim sighs. Resigned. “Not everything in that head of yours needs to come out.”

Julietta shakes her head, squinting at him. “I’m almost ninety years old. If I want to talk about the price of tea in China, that’s what I’ll do.”

She turns back to me. “Our son lost a baby. This was before Steven was even a twinkle in his eye.”

Jim sighs. “Oh, lord. Here we go.”

She frowns at him. “You go on and wait over there if you don’t want to hear it. But I’m tired of the secrets, Jim Lind.”

If I had a sock I could shove into Jim’s mouth, I would do it. I take a tiny step closer. “Is this about the baby my mom lost?”

Julietta and Jim look at me. She puts her hand on my forearm. “You knew about it? Did she tell you about that?”

“No.”

I admit, feeling a barb of loss snagging in my chest. “I found some old medical paperwork.”

“I see.”

Julietta says. “We didn’t handle it well at the time. I don’t mind admitting that.”

Jim scoffs. “I beg to differ. We don’t know for a fact that the Novak girl’s baby belonged to Jerry. We didn’t want our boy getting saddled with baggage like that. No parent would.”

“Baggage?”

My hackles go up. “You mean my mother?”

“She was a nice girl.”

Julietta says. “But just about every girl in the county was after Jim. He was a popular boy.”

Jim barks a sharp laugh. “And those girls could smell money from a mile away.”

I frown. “Are you calling my mother a gold digger?”

Jim’s brows lower. “Now, calm down, honey. I didn’t say that.”

“No. You implied it.”

It’s obvious to me that Jim taught his son well. They’re a mean, skeptical bunch. Jim thought the worst of my mother. And now his son, Jerry, is thinking the worst of Dusty.

It seems cynicism runs in the family.

Julietta huffs. “See, Jim? This is why you ought to leave the talking to me. Jerry never told you any of this because you’re impossible to talk to.”

Jim crosses his arms. “I am not.”

Julietta looks at me. Her eyes are blue and just a touch rheumy. “We don’t believe in blaming the child for their parent’s sin. It’s always bothered me that your mother might have thought we wouldn’t have accepted that child, because we would have. Jerry and your mother made a mistake. They didn’t go about things the right way, but that baby would have been a Lind through and through. And our boy loved her. I’m not sure he ever got over Naomi. I think he always thought he’d get a second chance.”

Jim clicks his tongue. “But that girl tore out of town like she had the devil after her.”

Yeah. Devils and demons. But not the kind they mean. I can thank them for giving me the final piece of the puzzle. But for the way they treated my mom? If they’re looking for forgiveness, they’re shit out of luck.

“Julietta, it was nice to meet you, ma’am.”

I glance at Jim, not bothering to include him. Because he’s about as pleasant as hernia. “If you’ll excuse me, though. I have a bit of business to finish up here for the Henrys.”

That’s a bald-faced lie. I just can’t stand another minute with the family that broke my mother’s heart.