As Long As There's Cake Read online

Well, old.

  With a sigh, she let Jerry lead her up the stairs. A night with her husband would make her feel young again. It was amazing what a good man could do to ease a woman’s mind. Thoughts of her upcoming sixty-sixth birthday could wait until tomorrow.

  Cream hopped each of the steps with them, keeping pace at Cookie’s feet even though the stairs were starting to give him trouble. He was a good dog. He’d taken to Jerry, too, which was good. She would never have married anyone who didn’t get along with her doggie friend.

  Her apartment took up the entire second floor of the building, wall to wall, which allowed enough space for two bedrooms and a full bathroom and even a living room space off the open kitchen. The door at the top of the stairs led right into the kitchen, which was also the dining room. Looking at it now Cookie wondered why she never noticed how cramped it truly was. It had been perfect for just her all these years. Now it was easy to see how two grown adults would never be happy here. Goodness, she and Jerry would be bumping shoulders every time they took a step!

  At the moment she was looking forward to being that close to her husband. As he said, the honeymoon wasn’t over. Not yet.

  Smiling to herself, and already looking forward to getting him into bed, Cookie went to the cabinet under the sink where she kept all of Cream’s food. There was a box of moist nugget treats in individual packages that she kept for special occasions. He licked his lips and pranced around in a circle when he saw what she was reaching for. She didn’t want to give him too much this late at night, but he’d been such a good dog on their trip. He’d earned a break from the strict diet she had him on. Next week would be soon enough to go back to their feeding routine.

  Cream shoved his nose into his bowl as soon as she emptied the package, making happy little growling sounds as he munched away. She watched him for a moment before putting the box of treats away. Jerry was waiting for her down the hall, at their bedroom door, but she was being coy and making him wait for her. Sometimes a woman just needed to drag out the anticipation for her man.

  She took her time turning off the lights and making sure the door was locked, and then lining up their shoes by the door. And then…

  The phone rang.

  Cookie stared at the home phone in its place on the wall. It was late, and not a lot of people knew the home number. Who could possibly be calling her? Jerry had his cellphone with him and if there was anything that his officers needed to call him for, they’d use that number. Most people called her on her cellphone as well, or else they used the bakery’s business phone downstairs.

  Now that she thought about it, where was her cellphone? Usually she carried it with her wherever she went. Even around the house. This morning she’d put on this yellow dress with purple stitching along the sleeves, and there were no pockets in the dress, so she’d left her phone up here… Ah. There it was, on the table.

  She checked it while the home phone rang again. Oh, how silly of her. The phone was dead. So this was probably someone who tried to reach her cell only to be sent to her voicemail. Well. Best to see who it was, then.

  Jerry whispered to her to let it ring even as she was picking up the receiver. She shushed him and walked over to the table to sit down. The phone was cordless after all. She wasn’t that much of a dinosaur.

  “Hello?”

  “Grandma Cookie?” a shaky voice answered.

  That was Clarissa, she realized right away. They’d spoken on the phone so many times before that there was no mistaking that voice… but tonight she sounded different. There was a heavy note of worry in her voice. It put Cookie on edge immediately.

  “Honey? Why are you calling so late?” Jerry picked up on her concern and came to join her at the table. “Is something wrong?”

  “Um. Yes. Grandma… I’m sorry. I’ve been trying your cell all day. I couldn’t get ahold of you. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, Clarissa, you don’t have to apologize for trying to call me.” Cookie laughed at the very thought, but she didn’t relax the hand clenched around the phone. Somehow, she knew there was more that her granddaughter needed to tell her. “I goofed and let the battery in that cellphone of mine go dead again. I’m glad you remembered the landline number. I’m always here for you, whenever you need me.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m calling now. Can you come out here, please?”

  Cookie wasn’t sure she’d heard that correctly. “Out… where? Oh my. Clarissa, are you here? At the bakery?”

  “She’s here?” Jerry asked her. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” Cookie said in a quick aside. “Now, shush. Clarissa, dear, you’re here at the bakery? Right now?”

  “Yes, I am. I need to talk to you. Um. It’s not really something I want to do over the phone.”

  It was odd to Cookie how so many people got nervous about talking over a phone. They all lived in a day and age where you practically needed a PhD in computer software development to even think about intercepting a phone call, or a Federal wiretap warrant to listen in on someone’s conversation, and yet people still worried over their privacy on the phone. Such nonsense.

  If it would make Clarissa feel better, however, Cookie would have walked to the next state over to be with her.

  “Of course we’ll come down,” she promised. “We’ll be right there.”

  “We?” Clarissa asked hesitantly. “Jerry’s there, too? Grandma, can it be just you for now? I don’t want to talk to… anyone else about this.”

  Cookie didn’t like the way she said that. Somehow, she got the impression that it wasn’t just anyone she didn’t want hearing her troubles, whatever they were. Rather, it was Jerry she didn’t want hearing anything.

  How curious.

  Well, for now it couldn’t hurt her to meet her granddaughter alone. Jerry would understand, and she could always talk to him about the whole matter later on. “I’ll be down in two minutes. Just me.”

  “Thank you, Grandma. You’re the best.”

  Clarissa had already hung up before Cookie could say, “We’ll see how wonderful I am after I hear what this problem of yours is.”

  “What’s that about a problem?” Jerry asked. “Clarissa is here with a problem?”

  Cookie laughed softly and patted his hand. “So she says. She probably has more than one job offer and can’t decide which to take. She wants her grandmother’s opinion. Stay here. Warm our bed up and I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll slip right in there with you, and it’s a warm enough night that clothing will be optional,” she added with a wink. “Don’t fall asleep before I get back, old man!”

  “Hey, now.” he protested. She laughed, and snuck past him, but not before he could give her rump a firm slap. “I’ll show you who’s old just as soon as you help Clarissa figure out her life. Makes me wonder why she came here, to you, instead of going to her mother.”

  He was right, Cookie realized. She hadn’t thought of that. What could be so serious to make her come all this way to talk about it, without first going to her mother? That set her thoughts to spinning, to be sure.

  Cookie didn’t like excluding Jerry, either. He was her partner in love, and in life, and in everything in between. Well. She would keep whatever her granddaughter said just between the two of them, at least for now. Clarissa had made it clear that she really didn’t want Jerry or anyone else to know about it. That was her decision to make, and Cookie’s decision to respect.

  Cream barked at her from the top of the stairs as she made her way down, but she told him to stay up there with Jerry. “I won’t be gone long. Be a good dog and wait for me, okay?”

  He grumbled about it, but he went back like she asked him to. He knew what kind of trouble Cookie could get into, when he wasn’t around to protect her. Over the years they’d learned to understand one another and rely on each other. Nobody could tell her dogs weren’t just as smart as people.

  There was a locked side door at the bottom of the stairs that led directly outside but that
would mean walking around the building in the dark. Even if this was Widow’s Rest, it was still night outside, and Cookie much preferred to stay out of the dark whenever she could. She went through the kitchen instead and then out through the main room of the shop. The glass sales counter was stocked with goodies she’d prepared earlier, and empty spaces were waiting for the freshly baked items she would make in just six hours when she got up to start her day. It was just after ten o’clock, but bakers were early risers. Just like soufflés.

  Heh. Baking humor.

  The square tables where people could sit and eat after buying muffins or scones or breakfast sandwiches all had their chairs stacked on top of them. The floor was swept and mopped. The condiments were stocked. Everything was ready for tomorrow. She flicked on the lights and took a brief moment of enjoyment at seeing her life’s work, ready and waiting for customers to arrive again, after her honeymoon break.

  A rap on the front door drew her attention. The door was glass in a metal frame, and two wide windows on either side gave her a good view of the street outside. There was a single streetlight glowing out there, but the bakery’s security lights gave plenty of illumination. There was Clarissa, her hand clasping her hoodie closed at her front, her other hand waving frantically. She was peering around the sticker letters on the door that spelled out “Kiss The Cook Bakery” and “Where there’s cake, there’s happiness.” Clarissa did not look happy. Her face was pinched in an anxious expression. Her hand waved again.

  Cookie creased her brow. An eerie feeling crawled up her spine like icy fingertips. Before, she had been admittedly curious about what had brought Clarissa here. Now, she was more than curious. She was worried.

  She opened the locks on the door and pushed it wide for her. “Clarissa, dear, what is it? You look positively beside yourself. Come in, come in. Tell me what’s going on. You know you have your own key to the place now. You don’t even have to knock.”

  Clarissa looked into the warm, inviting space of the bakery, and folded her arms around her midsection. The wind caught her long auburn hair and tugged long strands of it across her face. It was June, and wonderfully mild, but Cookie could see her granddaughter was shaking. Getting her inside with a nice cup of herbal tea would help whatever was haunting her.

  Or so Cookie thought. Instead of coming inside, Clarissa shook her head, and stepped back.

  “Can we just talk out here?”

  Her gaze went to the upstairs windows where lights were shining from the apartment. Cookie knew Clarissa was thinking about Jerry. What was she so worried about him hearing? Alarm bells began going off. She knew her granddaughter well enough to know this simply wasn’t like her.

  “Now, see here,” Cookie said, perhaps a bit harsher than she’d intended. “I thought you liked Jerry? You’ve never said anything to me about not trusting him or being afraid of him, or any such thing.”

  “What?” Clarissa shifted her weight from foot to foot. “No, Grandma that’s not what I meant at all. No, I love Jerry. I’m so happy that you found a good man to marry. He makes you happy, and he’s wonderful, and… No, it’s just… um. I don’t want to talk about this in front of him.”

  Cookie saw the way her cheeks quickly flushed red, and the way she wouldn’t quite meet her gaze, and then she understood. “It isn’t because he’s your new grandfather, is it?” she asked, closing the door behind her as she stepped out on the sidewalk. “It’s because he’s a police officer. You don’t want to talk about this in front of someone who has to enforce the laws. Is that it?”

  Clarissa hung her head and nodded that it was true.

  “My, my. That certainly doesn’t sound good.” No, it didn’t, but the girl certainly didn’t need anyone to tell her that. Cookie could see that scolding wasn’t what Clarissa needed at all. She pulled her granddaughter into a big hug, and she forced herself to be calm. “Why don’t you tell me about it? I’m just listening, mind you. I’m not judging, or throwing shade, or whatever it is you kids say these days.”

  She thought that might have gotten at least a smile out of her, but Clarissa only continued to scowl down at the sidewalk. “It’s something serious, Grandma. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  The night air tugged at Clarissa’s hair again and she pushed it angrily back into place. When she did, her hoodie fell open and Cookie noticed how wrinkled her pink top was, and how one pocket in her jeans was untucked. Her granddaughter was usually so put together, no matter what was going on around her. Now, it looked like she’d been sleeping in her clothes. There were dark circles under her blue eyes, too.

  “Well,” Cookie pressed, “let’s start by telling me what the problem is. I’m sure I can help you, but you need to let me know what’s going on.”

  “That’s the thing of it, Grandma,” she said finally. “That’s exactly what I need, is your help. Me and Rick both.”

  Cookie racked her brain. “Rick? Who’s Rick?”

  Clarissa rolled her eyes. “Right, I haven’t told you that bit.”

  “You haven’t told me anything, yet.” Cookie so badly wanted to take hold of her by the shoulders and start shaking until everything came out, but she knew that would only make it harder for Clarissa to get out what she needed to say. Patience was the only option here.

  With a slow breath, Clarissa said, “Rick is Hamish. My fiancé. He started calling himself Rick… you know, as a different short form of ‘Patrick’ which is his middle name. He says he likes Rick better. I think he started doing it when everything changed and he just… he’s like a different… I mean, we’re both…”

  “Slow down,” Cookie said gently. “Hamish calls himself Rick now. Okay. I think that’s silly but I’m sure it isn’t what sent you running to my front door in the middle of the night. Take your time, and tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what to do.”

  “I didn’t know where else to turn!” Clarissa finally burst out. “His family is exactly useless. My mom… well, you know my mom better than me. I mean, she’s been great about me and Rick and all but if I tell her about this then she’s going to disown me and tell me to go fix it all myself and I just can’t do that. I can’t! I’ve tried! I don’t know how. I don’t know… I just don’t know…”

  Having said that much, it was like she suddenly ran out of courage again. A tear trickled down her cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of a fist before crossing her arms tightly over her chest. The moment stretched between them as Cookie’s heart lodged itself in her throat. She waited, wanting Clarissa to feel like she could tell the story in her own time, even though it was killing her to see her granddaughter like this. She wanted to jump in and demand to hear everything right here, right now.

  Another minute, and she would have done exactly that.

  Then Clarissa finally let the words spill out. “Rick and I have nowhere to stay. We got kicked out of our apartment and Rick’s lost his job so we can’t even pay the hospital bills and I just don’t know how to fix any of it!”

  Cookie felt her mouth drop open and she expected words to come tumbling out but there was nothing there. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if there was anything she could say. Hamish was calling himself Rick now. He lost his job? They were homeless?

  The hospital bills?

  And somehow, Cookie was sure that wasn’t even the worst of it.

  Clearing her throat, and then clearing it again, she put her arm around Clarissa’s shoulders. Love was what she needed now. Love, and family. And hot chocolate.

  “Come inside, Granddaughter. This isn’t something I can fix out here in the street. A problem this big needs cocoa, and blueberry muffins.”

  This was going to be a long night, she told herself. Best to let Jerry know he should go on to bed without her. They’d both had other things on their mind than sleep, but that was going to have to wait. She could always make it up to him tomorrow night.

  Unless tomorrow had something even worse i
n store.

  Cursed, Cookie thought to herself again. She was most definitely cursed.

  Chapter 2

  Without any sleep, Cookie found herself up to her elbows in flour and sugar, kneading dough into loaves that should have been put in the oven an hour ago. Clarissa had finally run out of things to say at about three in the morning, and Cookie had convinced her to come upstairs to the apartment so she could pass out, exhausted, on the bed in the guest room. That same room had actually been hers, not that long ago. Before she’d moved out for college and to be with her boyfriend Hamish… no, Rick. That was going to take some getting used to.

  Now here Clarissa was, back again, with trouble on her heels.

  Cookie sighed for what must have been the millionth time that morning. Her heart was broken by what she heard last night. She didn’t know how she was going to help Clarissa fix things. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined her granddaughter could get into this kind of trouble. They had a short-term plan, which included Clarissa and Rick moving into the bakery apartment while Jerry and her moved out. That at least seemed like good timing. Then, those two would start working here to earn a small salary while they got back on their feet. That took care of the immediate problems.

  It did not, in any way, start to fix the underlying issue.

  After staring at the ceiling in her own bed for maybe an hour, Cookie had given up on sleep entirely and gotten dressed for the day. She’d actually given serious consideration to delaying the reopening of her bakery by another day or two. Family came first, after all. On the other hand, she didn’t know if even that much time would be enough for them to find a solution. Finally she’d sucked it up and trudged down here to start the baking. There wasn’t anything, in her experience, that baking couldn’t cure.

  She already had more muffins and apple Danishes and cinnamon rolls than she could possibly sell in one day. If there was a solution to be found in kneading this dough, she hadn’t found it yet. If nothing else it was taking her mind off things, if only just barely.