The Cupcake Diaries (9 page)

“They look happy,” Dave commented.

“Yes,” Stacey agreed. “Andi and Jake, Rachel and Mike, and now Kim and Nathaniel. They’re all happy.”

“What about you?” Dave asked, taking her in his arms. “Are you happy?”

He twirled her around, and when she faced him again, she said, “
You
make me happy.”

It was time. She had to tell him. Before the night was over she had to say the words they’d been putting off . . . and get Dave to say the same words back to her.

“When two people fall in love, it’s natural they’d want to get married,” she hinted.

“Yes, I wish them the best of luck with their marriage.”

Stacey bit her lower lip. Dave thought she’d meant Kim and Nathaniel. She decided to try again. “I’ve had the greatest summer of my life, with you, selling cupcakes and ice cream together. It feels natural to be by your side.”

Dave swung her around and nodded. “I like the fact that Andi, Rachel, and Kim use all-natural ingredients for their cupcakes and develop their own recipes, like I do with my ice cream.”

“That’s why you and I sell great
together
,” Stacey reminded him.

“I was thinking maybe I could talk to them about our cupcake and ice cream combination, see if they’d like to offer it in their shop.”

“I suppose the customers might like a new menu item.”

“Actually, I was thinking they might want to bring in a whole ice cream freezer and—”

“Your ice cream? Inside Creative Cupcakes?”

“Lots of cupcake shops also offer ice cream these days, and we’ve already proved our cupcake and ice cream combo is a success.”

Dave had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows. Stacey wore a sleeveless teal sheath dress that Rachel had helped her pick out. And when Dave took her hand in his and their two arms stretched out together, her right-sided fishhook scar she’d received during the tornado and his similar left-sided scar he’d gotten courtesy of his angry ex fit together into the shape of a heart—almost as if they were meant to be together.

So why was her stomach churning and her mind recalling how the surfer on the beach had flirted with her to get a free cupcake? Before that, how her date had pretended interest only to get a free dinner? And how Pam had generously given her a place to stay then slapped her with a surprise bill to take her money?

She’d also learned that Heather had only agreed to accompany Eric in exchange for concert tickets, and apparently their deal didn’t include dancing.
How sad.
She’d thought Eric had finally scored his happily-ever-after.

Trish tapped her on the shoulder. “Thanks for letting me sit with you, but I’m not in the mood for a party, and I’m leaving.”

“I’m so sorry your husband couldn’t come,” Stacey whispered.

Trish shrugged. “I knew he was too good to be true when I married him. Turns out I was right.”

The churning in Stacey’s stomach gained momentum as she turned toward Dave and overheard him comparing his ice cream truck to the Cupcake Mobile the shop used for deliveries.

No!
Dave would not have kissed her and dated her all summer just to get his ice cream back inside a four-wall shop again.
No way.

Trish walked over to the exit gate, and a man appeared, wearing a tan suit, and placed his hand on her elbow.

Oliver.
He
did
come.

Together the couple headed toward the grassy makeshift dance floor. Then Stacey saw Trish smile, and the churning in her stomach subsided.

See? Dreams
could
come true. She’d allowed her paranoia to cause her a moment of doubt. How silly of her to have thought Dave could use his relationship with her to rebuild his ice cream empire.

Dave loved her, even if he’d never said the words. She was
sure
of it.

Chapter Eight

Our memories of the ocean will linger on, long after our footprints in the sand are gone.

—Author unknown

S
TACEY’S THOUGHTS DRIFTED
back to the end of Kim’s wedding reception the night before as she drove to Andi and Jake’s house with Rachel. Max had held up the cell phone, which Jake handed off to him before taking Andi to the hospital. Then the boy grinned at Mia and Taylor and announced, “We’ve got a little brother!”

Andi and Jake had welcomed a twenty-one-inch, eight pound, six ounce baby boy into their family at 11:37 p.m.

“Jake Jr.,” Andi said, smiling happily. She held the baby in her arms, and his tiny fingers wrapped around her thumb. “I’m weaker with him than I was after I had Mia. The doctor’s say I’ll be fine, but I need rest.”

“Andi’s worried about who will take her place at the shop,” Jake added, bringing her the baby’s bottle.

“We’ve got everything handled,” Rachel assured her. “I’m glad we held your baby shower back in May and didn’t wait until the last minute,” Rachel teased. “Otherwise little Jacob might not have anything to wear.”

“He would’ve ended up with mismatched clothes like me,” Stacey agreed and reached out to touch one of the yellow knitted booties she’d given.

A knock sounded on the door, and big Jake went to see who it was. When he came back, William Burke followed him.

“Look, Jacob,” Andi crooned. “It’s your grandpa.”

Her father stepped closer, and his face softened when he looked at his new grandchild. Then he looked around at all of them, and Stacey could see from his worried expression that something was wrong.

“I have . . . troubling news,” he informed them. “Martha Slater, the woman I brought to Kim’s wedding yesterday . . . well, it appears her daughter also has a cupcake shop and will be competing against you in the state competition.”

“We’ll be competing against many cupcake shops,” Andi said, gently rocking baby Jacob back and forth.

“There’s more.”

Stacey tensed, wondering what could have the big, dominant man so nervous that he’d wring his favorite boating cap back and forth in his hands.

A jazzy ringtone sounded from Rachel’s purse, and she took out her smart phone and checked her messages. “Martha Slater sent me an email.” Rachel’s eyes widened. “She’s moved up the date for our cupcakes to be judged for the state competition.” Rachel gasped. “And it’s this Friday, August 29, the same day as my opening performance at the Liberty Theater!”

“She knew you were in the play,” Andi’s father told her. “She also knew Kim would be away on her honeymoon and Andi just had the baby. It’s my fault. She . . . only agreed to be my date so . . . she could get the information.”

“She completely took advantage of you to get to us!” Rachel shouted. Then she blushed. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Burke; I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

Stacey was glad for once it was Rachel who flubbed her lines and not
her.

William Burke’s face hardened. “It’s true, and I came to apologize.” He looked at Andi. “I let you down.”

“I don’t blame you,” Andi replied. “You didn’t know what she was doing.”

Stacey’s mouth fell open, the familiar phrase latching on to old fears and taking root in the pit of her stomach. Misleading and taking advantage of others was
wrong.

“I guess we’ll have to drop out of the competition,” Rachel said and rolled her eyes. “Oh, and I already lined up all kinds of promotion for the event.”

“No,” Stacey told them. “Don’t cancel.”

“But we have no one to bake.” Rachel scowled. “We can’t trust Theresa, Heather, or Eric to do it.”

Andi caught Stacey’s eye and said, “Stacey can, can’t you?”

She nodded. “I’ve helped Andi bake all of the recipes, and Kim’s fondant decorations are in an air-tight container in the kitchen. Theresa, Heather, and Eric can be my assistants.”

Rachel gave her a huge smile. “Welcome to the team.”

T
HURSDAY,
S
TACEY HURRIED
out the door of Creative Cupcakes with an armload of cupcake boxes to stack into the Volkswagen bus. Dave wouldn’t be helping her today because he had to shop for a new freezer. The one in the ice cream truck didn’t hold the temperature like it used to, and he wanted to upgrade to a newer model before it broke down again. But he’d promised to meet her at six o’clock at the Captain’s Port for dinner.

She’d hesitated when he’d asked her to meet him at a restaurant, but after dating Dave all summer, it was time to lay all her fears aside.

The week before, she and Kim had been up in the room they shared above the garage. Kim had packed her belongings into boxes, ready to move out and into Nathaniel’s house as soon as they married. But at that particular moment Kim had taken what she called a “creative break.”

“Does anything scare you?” Stacey had asked.

Kim brushed a streak of red paint across the canvas set up on an easel, then stood back to study the effect. “I used to be scared of flying. My mother died in a plane crash, and I feared the same might happen to me. But when I met Nathaniel, I realized my
real
fear was letting go of the past and moving forward. Now we fly all over the world.”

Stacey realized
rejection
was her real fear, and there was no better person to help her get over it than Dave. So when he asked her to meet him at the Captain’s Port that night, she’d agreed.

“Don’t forget this,” Rachel said, running up to her as she closed the back of the Volkswagen bus. “Dave dropped it off before you got here this morning on his way to the appliance warehouse. He said you left it in his truck.”

The Cupcake Diary.
Stacey took the binder from her cousin, tucked it into her backpack, and hoped Dave hadn’t read too many of the pages.

But what if he had? Would the personal entries prompt him to say the three little words she wished most to hear?

A
FTER A FULL
morning of good sales, storm clouds blew down the beach, and black bikini babe with them. Carla walked up to her cupcake stand. “Was Dave here earlier? I don’t see his truck.”

“No,” Stacey said and glanced at the rock she’d named Kate, to give her courage in the face of impending danger. “He’s not here today.”

“I thought I would congratulate him,” his ex said, lifting her chin. “Looks like he got what he wanted.”

Stacey didn’t want to speak to her any longer than possible, but the woman’s words sparked curiosity. “What do you mean?”

Carla smirked, as if she’d been dying for her to ask. “I heard he’s setting up inside Creative Cupcakes in Astoria.”

Where did she hear that? From Dave?

“Ever since our divorce Dave’s vowed to find a way to get his ice cream back in a store again. Looks like that ‘way’ was through you.”

Stacey froze. It was as if Carla had looked into her soul and voiced her most dreaded fear. “Are you suggesting he
used
me?”

Dave’s ex smiled with mock sympathy. “Would he have got his ice cream in the shop any other way?”

Andi, Rachel, and Kim had worked hard to build Creative Cupcakes into a success, and they wouldn’t agree to partner with anyone they didn’t know and trust. Stacey had introduced Dave to them and helped establish that trust.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stacey said, but as Carla walked away, she feared she
did
.

L
IGHTNING RIPPED ACROSS
the sky, more jagged than Dave’s tattoo. Thunder followed, and as the wind picked up, Stacey went outside to put the umbrella table and stools away and to close the outside window flaps.

A tremor ran through Stacey’s body, and she wasn’t sure if it was from her fear of storms or from the suspicions Dave’s ex had instilled in her mind. Either way, her inclination was to pack up and run.

Then, as if she weren’t moving quickly enough, a siren sounded, filling the air with its high-pitched alarm. Her gaze darted toward the surf, and a high wave was building off shore, with two or more super-waves building behind it.
Tsunami!

Stacey took five steps, then noticed the old woman walking the beach.
Gladys.
She hesitated a split-second, then turned, took the stairs down to the sand, and ran toward her.

“Gladys! The waves!”

Gladys looked toward the ocean, then back at her. “They’re higher today because of the full moon.”

Stacey watched two of the waves rise and fall, crashing down on the beach with a thunderous roar echoing the sounds coming from the sky above. “I heard a siren. There could be a tsunami coming in any moment!”

Gladys shook her head. “That was a fire truck. Looks like lightning struck a tree down the road.”

Stacey glanced toward the street and realized Gladys was right. “Let’s get out of the storm. Follow me.”

Rain drove down in torrents as they climbed into the dry shelter of the closed cupcake stand.

“Would you like a cupcake?” Stacey offered as they sat huddled on the bench seat in the back.

“Not today,” Gladys said. “I appreciate your generosity, but I think you’ve given me enough free cupcakes.”

“The storm rolled in before I sold enough to make my quota for the day,” Stacey told her. “Looks like I won’t have the last bit of money to pay back my ex-roommate.”

“I could give you the money,” Gladys offered. “After all your kindness, I’d love the chance to pay you back.”

Stacey hesitated. “I don’t mean to be rude . . . but how? You . . . you don’t have the means. Y-you’re homeless and can barely support yourself, aren’t you?”

Gladys laughed. “Good heavens, no. I’m richer than a schooner full of gold. Where ever did you get the notion I was homeless?”

Heat flooded her cheeks. “I saw you take a box of cupcakes out of the trash can. Sand blew into the frosting, and I had to throw them away.”

Gladys laughed so hard tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “I wasn’t going to eat them. I wanted to see the decorative fondant flowers on top of the frosting.”

Stacey’s perception of what was real and not real had been shattered more than once today. How could she have been so wrong? Her eyes stung, and she feared she’d cry, too, but not tears of laughter.