Chapter 36

36

Annika

My body is both bone-tired and also more relaxed than I've been in months when I finally park my car in front of Mama's little house.

The new wood on the railings that Roger and the neighbors installed stands out in the dark, and I sigh softly to myself, because it's stupid that Shipwreck and Sarcasm fight when they both have residents who care so damn much.

Why can't they care about each other like that?

And why can't they support two bakeries without them having to be at war first?

I let myself into the house and close the door softly behind me, then yelp at the figure on the couch.

"You're late ," Bailey says.

She switches on the lamp and crosses her arms. Her foot hangs loose over her knee, tapping out an expectant beat.

"Fell asleep during the movie," I lie.

Her nose quivers, and oh, shit .

Can she smell the fabric softener? It's different from the no-perfume stuff we use here.

"Is that brownies?" she asks.

I almost sag with relief. "Liliana tried to teach me a few tricks. How's Mama?"

"We had a dance party with Roger and Birch. She can still shake it. You should've texted that you were going to be so late."

"Sorry. I thought you'd be in bed." I sit next to her, and she curls into me, leaning her head on my shoulder and wrapping her arm around my stomach. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"Boys are stupid."

"I know, but you can't change it, so you shouldn't lose sleep over it either."

"And hormones are stupid."

"Hashtag truth."

"Annika. We've talked about you saying hashtag . Don't do it."

I stroke her hair and smile. "Sorry. Tell me about your hormones. You want some brownies? Liliana sent me home with a few." God , I hate lying, but Bailey would bolt if she knew I was with Grady all night—plus Grady and I agreed on the whole we need to be a secret for the benefit of our bakeries thing—and right now, she clearly needs someone to talk to.

I'd rather it's me than one of her friends, who are all nice enough, but also in the throes of puberty.

"We should make brownies at Duh-Nuts. Oh my god . Annika. We should make brownie donuts . No. Caramel brownie donuts ."

"Or peanut butter brownie donuts."

"Who are you, and where did you gain this amazing baking inspiration?"

Huh.

Maybe sex with Grady is good for my culinary creativity.

Actually, no.

I'll keep the sex part but leave the culinary part to him.

I'm really not built to be a baker.

"You must be rubbing off on me," I tell her. "So. Tell me about the boy."

"I like talking about brownie donuts better."

"You like him and you wish you didn't?" I press quietly.

It's a relatable emotion, though I'm finally in a place where I don't wish I didn't like Grady.

I like liking Grady.

I like kissing Grady.

I just don't like keeping Grady a secret, even if I can see his reasoning.

Bailey sighs and sags deeper against me. "My logical brain says it's stupid to like boys. Boys haven't been good to our family. But every time I'm around him my heart starts beating like I sampled too many chocolate-covered coffee beans and my belly gets all fluttery and I get so tongue-tied that I feel like I'm talking out of my elbow."

"That sounds like a crush."

"I don't want to have a crush. Crushes can destroy your whole entire future. Look what they did to Mama."

My hand stills in her hair. "I don't think Mama would say she feels robbed of the life she was supposed to have," I say quietly, the revelation rocking me deep in the pit of my stomach as the simple truth of it finally penetrates past my logical brain and into my feels .

"She spent her whole life raising you, and then me, and now she's fucking blind ," Bailey whispers. "She was robbed."

"Do you remember when you two came to visit me in Texas three summers ago? When it was so hot, and we went to that giant water park?"

"That was so fun. I hate Shipwreck. They have a water park like that."

I stifle an eye roll. "You were going down the waterslide over and over and over while Mama and I did the lazy river. And she was asking about my job and my life and I was catching up on how you suddenly decided soccer sucked but volleyball was life, and that you had three new friends who would come over and have dance marathons with that old Wii that Mama picked up refurbished on sale after Christmas?—"

"Oh em gee, when we all dressed up in boas and pretended to be llamas invading a unicorn dance-off?"

" Yes . And she was laughing so hard she fell out of her tube on the lazy river."

"Well, yeah. Adriana's llama impersonation isn't something you can forget," she says with a giggle.

"Mama loves being our mama. She's so proud of you. And so proud of me. She didn't plan on being a single mom so early in life, but she fucking rocked it. And she probably hasn't loved every minute, but we are her world. And we're pretty awesome. Because of her. I don't think Mama regrets the life she didn't have. She's too busy enjoying the life she does have."

"I'm too young for philosophy," she says quietly.

"No, you're not. But listen—it's okay to have a crush on a boy. It's okay to go on dates. It's okay to kiss a boy once you're twenty-four."

She giggles and pokes me in the ribs, and I squeeze her tighter in a big hug.

"You know where babies come from. When you're thirty-seven and ready, you know how to be safe and protected."

"Now you're being ridiculous."

"Hush. I'm coping with the fact that I need to take you bra shopping this weekend."

She sighs. "It's all the baked goods. It makes them grow."

"It's the hormones and genetics."

"They suck."

"They really do. They make us like boys who don't like us back, and they make us cranky for no reason, but they also inspire us to binge-watch Gilmore Girls while eating chocolate ice cream, so they're not all bad, right?"

"Are there boys you've liked who didn't like you back?"

"I'm about the worst role model for healthy relationships with boys. I denied any feelings for anybody until it was too late and I lost them."

"That Rock boy," she whispers.

It's my opening.

I should tell her.

I need to tell her if he's going to be in my life. In her life. In our lives.

"You're better off without him," she announces quickly. "Mama says he would've married you, but then he probably would've divorced you and left you with three babies to feed."

It's a sock to the gut. "Mama did not say that."

"No, but she should. Annika. He's a Shipwreck shithead. People from Shipwreck don't marry people from Sarcasm and have happy ever afters. It's a rule. Especially when those shitheads are trying to ruin our bakery." She pushes up and frowns at me. "We really need to find a full-time baker. Because if he ever actually ups his decorating game, we're toast. Adriana snuck me one of the shithead's banana pudding donuts the other day, and Annika, it's bad. I mean, the donut was good. The donut was orgasmic."

"How do you—never mind. Don't want to know."

"He can outbake us," she whispers.

"He's had half a lifetime more experience than you have," I whisper back. "This will all be okay. I promise. Trust me?"

"No. Because so far in my life, you've never let me down, which means it's inevitable that you will someday, because you're human, which you can't help no matter how hard you try, and I think I might die if this is the thing that you finally let me down with. So I'm just going to not ask you to take it on anymore."

"That…didn't make any sense."

"We need a better baker, Annika. Roger can only help for so long, and since you won't homeschool me…"

"Bailey?"

"What?"

"Go to bed and worry about boys. I'll take care of the bakery. Even I can't screw up bubble waffles, right?"

She opens her mouth, then closes it.

And then she leans over to hug me. "I love you anyway," she says.

She turns the light out on me and heads to her small bedroom, and I pull my phone out.

Parenting sucks , I text to Grady.

I don't give him a chance to reply before I add, And if you know anyone who can bake better than you can, I need to hire that person STAT .

He doesn't answer.

Probably sleeping, or heading out with Sue to whatever campground he's supposed to be at.

But he'll get my message eventually.

Probably.

Hopefully.

And then he'll help me fix this.

I could fix it by myself. I really could.

But I don't want to anymore.