Babycakes (30 page)
Authors: Donna Kauffman
Kit smiled. “I don’t know what it is,” she cautioned them, knowing it would do no good. “But I can say that in my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have imagined I’d be looking forward to this particular holiday season. And, so far, it’s been . . . well, it’s been very special.”
They held each other’s gazes, getting all sentimental and shimmery-eyed again, and Kit sensed another group hug in the offing. The oven timer went off right at that moment, making them all jump, then laugh at themselves.
Charlotte bustled over and slid out the supersize rack of cupcakes.
Kit had turned back to her bowl and whisk and her batter in the making, when Alva said, “So, dear, now that you’ve let us know about your burgeoning romance—”
“You mean confessed under interrogation?” Kit teased.
“Call it what you will, dear, but come now, surely you’d rather be with your new beau on a Friday night than with the bunch of us.”
“Morgan is at home with Lilly, and . . . well, I haven’t been over to his place yet.”
“I understand you want to keep things low key, dear,” Alva said. “But the three of you do spend time together. Surely there would be nothing amiss in the three of you having a movie night. Some popcorn, a family friendly movie.”
“That’s just it, Alva. We’re not trying to be a family. We’re just . . . getting to know one another. Morgan and I want to do that a little more on our own before doing family-type things.”
Alva tsked and went back to her task. “Well, if you all can’t see what we plainly see, then fine. Just seems a bit silly to waste time posturing about when you could be enjoying each other the way you were meant to.”
“If it’s meant to be,” Kit replied, “it will be. I’ve jumped into a lot here, and—”
“And all of it has been quite wonderful, has it not?” Alva pointed her caramel-covered spatula at Kit again. “You need to trust your instincts.”
“I’m working on it,” Kit said dryly, but inside, the comment dinged her a little. All she’d wanted to do was take baby steps toward a new future, but felt that she was making gigantic strides after the catastrophic year leading up to her move to Sugarberry. She worried it was all going to backfire on her at some point. Given her history, probably when she least expected it. But there was no way she could explain that to this group.
“Don’t push her, Alva,” Lani chided. “If she and Morgan are happy, then that’s all that matters. He seems to be doing pretty well by Lilly, so it’s not our business to tell what they should or shouldn’t do.”
“Fine, fine,” Alva sniffed. “For heaven’s sake, when did watching a movie and having some popcorn together become a federal offense?”
Lani and Charlotte rolled their eyes behind her, while still smiling at Kit.
“I haven’t had a chance to ask, but what was the final count on the turtle hatch?” Lani asked brightly, clearly changing the subject.
Kit could have kissed her. “Gabe said it ended up about seventy-five percent. Given the time of year and all, he thought it was really successful.”
“The weather has been so horrible all week, it’s really lucky they hatched when they did,” Lani said.
“It really is. Gabe and Anne mentioned that this much rain could have flooded the nest at a critical time, when the babies were working to emerge, so they were very, very lucky.”
“I’ve wanted to get back out there to explore the center,” Lani said. “I hate to say it, but since moving here, I’ve never gone out there and checked it out. Still haven’t been inside yet. Baxter hasn’t stopped talking about it, so I’m sure we’ll make it happen.”
Charlotte sighed. “I can’t believe I was in New York, trying to pretend I couldn’t hear Carlo’s grandmother putting the black curse on me and my family under her breath every time we were in the same room, when I could have here helping with the Great Turtle Hatch.”
Lani made a sad face. “I’m sorry his family is still being so brutal.”
Charlotte lifted a shoulder. “His sisters have thawed. Slightly. But . . . it will be a challenging road.”
“So, still no date yet?” Alva asked.
Charlotte shook her head. “Carlo wants to just go ahead with it. He wants us to be married. I-I want to be married, too. And maybe it will never get easier, so we shouldn’t wait. But every time I try to imagine that day, with half his family cursing me as I walk down the aisle and my own parents disapproving of my choice”—she shuddered—“it’s a nightmare. There is nothing about that day that appeals to me. We’re happy as we are. I don’t see the reason to make so many people unhappy and upset.”
“What about your happiness?” Kit asked her. “Carlo won’t consider eloping? Or a smaller ceremony?”
Charlotte shook her head. “His mother and grandmother would never forgive him and his sisters would lynch him. They had to go through it, so it’s only fair he face the same gauntlet.”
“I don’t know, Charlotte. I know you love him and I know he loves you. But if he’s always going to bow to his family’s happiness over yours . . .” Kit let the statement trail off.
Charlotte nodded. “I know, I know. Trust me. I’ve thought about that. A lot. I think about us starting a family, all of that, and it’s so daunting. I can’t see where it’s ever going to be okay with his family or mine. I’ve already chosen my own life over the one my parents would choose for me, and I have come to terms with their disapproval. We live on different continents and maintain separate lives. But Carlo . . . while he has chosen his path here, in Georgia with me . . . he does care about his family, loves them deeply, is still so close to them. I see how it tears him up. He really wants to make everybody happy.” She smiled, bleakly. “But there is no feasible way to accomplish that.”
Lani rounded the table to her and pulled her into another hug. “I’m sorry.”
Charlotte hugged her back. “Thank you. That’s why we’re just kind of going on as we’ve been going. We’re happy, we’re together, and we only have to deal with our respective families long distance.”
“Not everyone has to be married,” Lani said. “You’ve committed to each other.”
Charlotte nodded, but didn’t say anything more.
Kit watched, listened, and couldn’t help thinking of the situation between her and Morgan. Since Thanksgiving, she’d kept her focus on her life as it was now. On what was happening with Morgan and Lilly, and how things were unfolding for them on Sugarberry. She’d very purposefully put his extended family, and hers too, for that matter, from her thoughts. They’d each chosen to distance themselves from their immediate families, but that didn’t mean the families had simply ceased to exist. At some point, she’d have to deal with that part of things. She just wanted . . . a stronger foundation with Morgan first, for them to have developed a relationship together, time to get to a place where it wasn’t Morgan and Lilly, and Morgan and Kit, and Kit and Lilly. But Morgan, Kit, and Lilly.
Listening to Charlotte, though, she found it hard not to consider the reality of what would happen if and when they wanted to take a step like Charlotte and Carlo wanted to take. What then? With her family, it didn’t matter as much. She doubted Trixie or Teddy would notice, much less care, what she did with her life or whom she married. Though if she married a Westlake, she could well imagine Teddy trying to make that work to his advantage. Dear Lord, the very idea made her cringe. Maybe she just wouldn’t tell them.
But with Morgan, it would be different. There was Lilly to consider. And her two grandmothers, one of whom was a Westlake. At some point and for many points in the future, Olivia Westlake would factor in to Morgan’s life. If Kit became a permanent part of that scenario, she would have to deal with Olivia as well.
“Dear, I do believe you’ve whisked that pour bowl of flour about half to death.”
Alva’s words broke into her thoughts, and Kit looked down, only to realize that during her ruminations, she’d picked up her bowl and started whisking again. If only her concerns could be whisked away so easily.
Chapter 21
“
L
illy has never decorated a Christmas tree? How is that possible?”
L
illy has never decorated a Christmas tree? How is that possible?”
Morgan glanced over at Kit as he drove along the loop road toward his cottage. “Because Westlake trees are professionally designed and decorated to match the theme and décor of whatever events may be taking place that particular season.”
“Trees? Plural?” Kit laughed. “What, like one in the family room and another one in the living room?”
“More like two in the grand foyer—one on the first landing of the central staircase, one in the upper balcony vestibule—and, well, that’s just within eyeshot of the front door.”
Kit shook her head, still laughing. “We definitely had very different childhoods.” She settled back into her seat. “Well, I think it’s doubly wonderful that Lilly and Birdie are going to make ornaments together. It’s already great they’ve bonded over making art together. And, if Lilly’s never decorated a tree, then today’s craft endeavor is a more fantastic thing for them to share.”
Morgan glanced over, then reached out, took her hand, and squeezed. “Actually, it was the art that started it. I’ve been talking to Lilly about getting our tree, and we’ve been trying to figure out what to decorate it with. I want her to have one, but I wanted it to mean something, and not just have a bunch of store bought ornaments on it. So, they decided to make them. Originally, Birdie thought she’d have Lilly over to help with her tree, but we decided to wait until Lilly’s a bit older before they share that particular task.”
“Why?” Then Kit’s expression softened. “Oh, right. She’d have ornaments from Delilah’s childhood, I imagine.”
“Boxes of them. We felt it’s too soon to have Lilly looking through things her mom made. Maybe next year, when she’s a little older and a bit more time has passed. Instead, they’re making ornaments to go on our tree.”
“Oh, speaking of that, we—you, me, Lilly, and I’m guessing Birdie would be welcome, too—have been invited to go with Lani and Baxter, Quinn and Riley, to chop down a Christmas tree next weekend. I don’t know how traditional you are about putting a tree up at a certain time, but—”
He laughed. “Confession. I don’t have any Christmas tree traditions.”
Kit opened her mouth, then shut it again and smiled. “Right. The tree on every stair landing thing probably didn’t start just since Lilly was born.”
“I’m pretty sure it started whenever the first Christmas tree in history was ever decorated, where, I’m sure there was a Westlake in attendance who took one look and thought, hey, this would make a good centerpiece for our royal feast, impress the neighboring kings and such.”
Kit laughed. “You’re so bad.”
“I’m not exaggerating. Probably.”
“Didn’t you have a tree in all the time you lived out west? You said that was where you experienced more traditional holidays and learned what you wanted for yourself, your kids, and now . . . for Lilly.”
“I did see the kind of holidays I’d like to have, but that was from being around friends and their families. I didn’t put up a tree in my place. I mean, it was just me. I guess I got enough holiday spirit from osmosis. Western mountain towns are crazy for decorations and traditions this time of year.”
“Well, with all that snow, it would be pretty festive. Was that fun? Having white Christmases? I’ve spent all mine here in Georgia.”
“It was pretty cool, I’ll admit. Especially the first few. This is my first one back east in what feels like a lifetime, but . . . I’m enjoying seeing it through Lilly’s eyes.”
“Does she say anything . . . I mean, the whole Santa thing and wishing for Christmas presents? Does she mention her mama and daddy?”
Morgan slowed and turned into his driveway. He turned off the engine, but didn’t get out. “She’s only mentioned them to me once since we’ve been here. But I’ve heard her saying her prayers at night. And she includes mama and daddy up in heaven in her list.” His eyes sheened over. “I don’t know if I should bring them up or just let her do it when she’s ready. She’s so young, and I don’t want her to forget them. Since she fell for the turtles, and then Thanksgiving happened, and now with Birdie . . . her life is very full and she’s happy. Happier, for sure, than when we got here. She’s rarely solemn anymore. Still shy around new people, but so much more relaxed and herself now that she has all of you. I’ll be honest . . . I don’t know what to do, so I just . . . play it day-to-day.”
Kit reached across the console and took his hand. “That’s all you can do. She’s making good memories here, memories she’ll associate with the holidays when they come next year. She’ll look forward to them, and you can’t ask for more than that. Later, or whenever curiosity or emotion prompts her to talk about her mama and daddy, she’ll ask. I think she knows she can say anything to you, ask you anything.”
Morgan squeezed her hand. “I hope so. Sometimes I feel incredibly ill prepared for this. I’m so worried I’ll screw up something important and scar her for life.” He chuckled, but the worry was real.
Kit tugged on his hand until he looked at her. “A wise man once told me that all Lilly needs is someone who cares about her and has her best interests at heart. I don’t think any person feels prepared to be a parent, no matter when it happens, or how many times it happens. She seems like she’s doing really well. And that’s what you have to have faith in.”
Morgan smiled.
She noted the dry edge and cocked her head. “What?”
“Nothing. For someone who has been so nervous about moving forward—with good reason—you are amazingly wise in the ways of relationships and life.”
She tugged him closer and leaned over the center console until their lips brushed. “Well, I keep saying I’m afraid to do things, and yet I keep doing them, so, I don’t know how wise I am. But just because I’m doing them, doesn’t mean I’m not still afraid. Maybe that’s the key, to just jump in. When my parents died, and suddenly Mamie Sue’s Peanut Pie company was mine and Trixie’s, it was ridiculously overwhelming. I either stepped up and figured it out, or let it fall apart. If I’d thought about what I was facing, I’d have completely freaked out.”
Morgan smiled and kissed her lightly. “Is that what you did with me? Just tried hard not to think about it so you wouldn’t completely freak out?”
She nodded, rubbing noses with him. “Kind of.” When he widened his eyes in surprise, she laughed lightly. “Well, with the company, eventually, I figured it out. I had to make myself hang in there. Since there was no real alternative—at least for me, there wasn’t—that’s all I could do.”
“And me? You have an alternative. I mean, you could have stuck with the things you’d already jumped into and walked away from us.”
“
Could have.
But I’d already had something in my life I was utterly and completely passionate about so I understood bigger than life, once in a lifetime things you have to do because not doing them is surely something you’d always regret. I knew when I met you—okay, when you continued to push me—it was like Mamie Sue’s.”
Could have.
But I’d already had something in my life I was utterly and completely passionate about so I understood bigger than life, once in a lifetime things you have to do because not doing them is surely something you’d always regret. I knew when I met you—okay, when you continued to push me—it was like Mamie Sue’s.”
He slipped his hand through her hair, cupped her head, and drew her closer. “I’m glad I’m someone you thought you would regret not knowing.” He searched her eyes. “Someone you’re passionate about. Bigger than life.”
“Once in a lifetime,” she whispered and was smiling when he kissed her.
The kiss deepened, and the words were in his mind, in his heart, on the tip of his tongue, but he held on to them. Far too soon for declarations of any kind, but he couldn’t keep the hope from blooming fully to life any longer. When he lifted his head, he kept his palm cupping the side of her face, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb. “I’m glad you agreed to come here today. Even though you’ve never been here, it’s like you’re missing when you’re not around. Lilly will say something, or I’ll be on a call, or . . . any of a number of things, and I want to turn to you, tell you, talk to you. It just seems like you should be there.”
She didn’t respond, but her gaze on his didn’t waver.
“Since the rain has finally let up and it’s gotten warm again, humid even, I thought we’d take a walk on the beach. There’s a path through the dunes behind the house, straight to the beach. Maybe a picnic. I didn’t want you to think I wanted you here just so—”
“I could see your etchings?”
He grinned. “Well, I won’t lie. I imagine you being in every room of the house, but I dream about having you in my bed . . .” He trailed off, his body already painfully hard.
“Well, since we’re being so open . . . I’ll admit I’ve thought about how it would be, to wake up together. It’s the lust of something new, I know. But . . . it’s not to say I don’t think about . . . everything you mentioned. Eventually.”
“Well, for now”—he leaned in and kissed her again—“I’m just happy you’re here. Today. But let’s not spend our time sitting out here in the driveway. Want to make some sandwiches, go for a walk on the beach?”
He got out and went around, helping her out and into his arms. She laughed, going quite willingly, sliding her arms around his neck. “Do you honestly think once we get inside behind closed doors we’ll make it to the beach?”
“Why, Miss Bellamy,” he said, tilting her face to his, kissing the corners of her mouth. “Whatever are you suggesting?”
She tipped up on her toes and kissed him quite solidly on the lips. “I’m suggesting that perhaps the stroll might be put off just a wee bit.” Her eyes twinkled. “When we’ve worked up more of an appetite for the picnic.” She laughed then. “Besides, we had to deal with sand once before and I thought maybe we’d rather take advantage of a nice, soft, sand-free bed this time around, so by the time we get to walking on the beach, we’re more likely not to have to deal with that particular issue.”
He grinned. “We’ll bring a blanket anyway.”
She laughed and was smiling against his mouth as he kissed her again. She leaned into his arms, and he scooped her up against him and turned toward the house . . . and froze.
“What—oh no, I’m daring on a good day,” Kit said on a laugh, “but we’re making it past the hood of the car.”
Morgan slowly slid her to her feet, but kept her facing him. He framed her face, held her gaze.
Her smile faltered. “Morgan, what’s—”
“Remember how you said you were keeping your eyes on the here and now, and not letting yourself imagine the bigger picture? Well, the picture’s about to get a little bigger. Maybe a lot bigger. Please trust me and let me do the talking, okay?“
“For heaven’s sake, Morgan,” came an imperious Southern voice from a short distance behind him.
It was Kit’s turn to go completely and utterly still.
“Are you going to stand in your own driveway—if you can call it that—and leave me waiting on your doorstep, or would you care to introduce the young woman to your dear mother?”
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