CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Allie
I looked around the bakery, feeling my heart glow with warmth. It wasn't miserable in here after all! Marcelle had hung paper streamers up across the top of the cupboards and Kelsey had baked me a cake – a small cake, topped with a sparkler. I felt my heart wrench with the sweetness of the gesture.
“Aw! Guys...” I grinned at them. “You're the best.”
They giggled. It was especially touching today – when no-one else had, it was so touching that someone remembered! I felt myself blink rapidly and realized I was trying not to cry.
“We couldn't let you work on your birthday without it,” Marcelle said kindly. “Now, come on. The cafe's shut so we can go through and have a little party too.”
I laughed and we shared out the tiny cake – there was enough for three of us, bizarrely iced with green and pink icing. I asked about that.
“You said they were your favorite colors, once,” Kelsey said. I grinned at her.
“You remembered that? Aw! You're cute.”
She blushed and I felt really happy as I sat there with them. It was a brittle sort of happy – if I let myself think even a little outside of the shop, I would encounter memories of Drew and be sad – but I focused on the warm, sunlit space and the company and the moment.
“Right,” I said when we'd had cake and coffee. “Let's get going.”
We headed into the back. It wasn't strictly-speaking necessary for Kelsey to be there, and after an hour of helping with the cupcakes – filling the pink-and-white papers, shaking the trays to get air-bubbles out – she headed off home.
“Right,” I said as we put the first tray in the oven. “It's just us, then. How fast can you roll croissants?”
“Faster than before,” Marcelle blushed. She had always been slow and thorough and even though I teased her about it, I admired that.
“Let's go!” I chuckled.
We raced each other. By one pm they were all cooked. Ready to decorate and fill and pack. I was in the car by two, gingerly packing crates of jam around the trays to stop them moving.
“Let me come too,” Marcelle said. “I'll hold the trays.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks. You can help me carry them in, too.”
She piled in beside me and we roared off to Treeview Lodge. It was a fancy sort of guest-house on a new golf estate, and people often held events here on the lawns or at the conference center.
“I wonder if this is for someone's birthday,” I mused, looking back at the cupcakes and croissants. It seemed like a nice party, and I felt a wistful stab that no-one would fete me like that. But then, I reckoned, I'd had a much better event with my two friends and helpers in the bakery.
“It could be,” Marcelle said, raising her brows.
“Well, if it's not very lucky and I don't pay attention, it might end up on the back seat...” I grunted, managing to slow down enough for the stop-light without displacing our tray.
Marcelle chuckled. “Maybe I should be in the back holding it?”
“I'd much rather have you here, keeping an eye on me,” I said mildly. “At least I know if I forget to stop at a stop-street, someone'll notice...” I narrowed my eyes as we reached the turnoff and headed out of the main part of town.
The lodge was an elegant place, built like a Nineteenth century homestead. I always felt quite gracious as I carried things out into the hall, and was glad I'd worn my good slacks and blouse, my hair all nicely brushed round my shoulders, without the annoying crease from the net cap I had to wear while baking.
“Right,” I said to Marcelle. “Let's go.”
We carried the first tray in.
“If you could put it there, please?” a woman in a black uniform with a logo on the back asked me. “We're just setting up in here...”
I looked around, feeling a pang of wistful envy again. How beautiful it all looked! There were tables decked in white cloths and the chairs all nicely covered, and balloons and flowers.
I put the final tray of croissants carefully down, watching as another woman brought in teapots and delicate china cups, and a big covered dish that might conceal the main centerpiece.
“Right,” I said, stretching my back and looking around.
The hall was emptying now, except for the woman in the black uniform and a guy setting up speakers for the music. It looked like the event was about to start. I turned to Marcelle, who was arranging the last tray of cupcakes to make sure none of them were damaged.
“Should we...” I began.
“Ms. Hendricks?” I turned to find the woman in the black uniform at my elbow.
“Yeah?” I said. I frowned. How was it she knew my name?
“Oh, good. Someone asked me to call you. If you'll follow me?”
I looked at Marcelle, frowning. She shrugged.
“I'll wait for you,” she said easily.
“Thanks,” I said. I was still feeling confused as I walked behind the woman. Who could possibly need to see me here? And who here would even know my name, anyway?
Whoever this is for has serious money. I don't think anyone like that knows me.
“He said he'd only take a minute...” the woman said to me, seeing my frown and thinking I was worried about being held up.
“It's okay,” I began. “I'm not in much of a hurry. I...Oh.”
I stared.
Standing at the edge of the hall, in a suit and with a tender expression on his face, a single carnation, pink and lovely, in his hand, was Drew.
***
I watched her follow Ms. Halley, the catering lady, across the hall with my stomach a mess of nerves. I told myself to calm down. It was only a gesture, she wasn't likely to kill me for it. But I still couldn't help feeling nervous.
She saw me and her eyes bulged.
“Drew?” she said. She sounded quite shocked. “What…? Why are you here? Why…?”
I felt my lips lift in a happy smile. She was completely overwhelmed. Last thing she expected to see. And that made me feel quite clever, I had to admit. And proud.
“I seem to remember tenth March is a special day?” I said softly. “It's your birthday, isn't it? Happy birthday.”
As I handed her the carnation, she turned around, flummoxed. I could almost hear her confusion. The events-planning lady had disappeared, leaving me at the side of the hall, behind the speakers and a pot of flowers, with Allie, alone.
I watched her throat gulp and saw her eyes well up. She was about to cry. I clenched a fist, schooling my own face to neutral, holding back the tears. I couldn't believe how happy she was!
“Drew?”
I smiled. “I thought you could do with a party,” he said. “Something special. You are special, Allie.” I meant it. How could I not have told her this ages ago? It should have been something I said every day.
She coughed and I saw her clear her throat again. I waited, letting her find her voice. She wanted to say something, clearly.
“You...you mean this is a party? A birthday party? For me?” she sounded shocked.
I nodded. “I'm sorry it's such short notice,” I said. “But I didn't know if you would come.”
She stared at me. She started to giggle.
“What?” I said. I was laughing too now. Her laugh was infectious. Always was. We were both laughing and I leaned against the wall, trying to get a hold of myself. The relief was making it harder to stop now that it was finally over – that first moment – and I realized she wasn't mad at me... not now.
“Oh, you! You big, silly, madman!” she was laughing. “It's beautiful. But first,” she said, “before you explain to me about all this and how this is going to all work today, we need to talk.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “We do. Allie, I've been an asshole.”
She looked up at me, then blinked. She nodded. “You can say that again.”
“Allie, I've been an...”
“You don't have to,” she said. “But yes. I accept that. You have. Now. You need to tell me the truth. Are you...what was that call about?”
I sighed. “Thanks,” I said quietly. “You've made it easier for me to raise it. Allie, I have to tell you. There isn't anyone in my life besides you. Do you believe that – please say you do?”
She frowned. “Depends,” she said. “For someone with a suspicious mind, I could wonder how you think I think that. And I could wonder what all that was about, if that's the wrong reason.”
“It is,” I said. “Allie, this is something I should have told you about six years ago. Should we go and sit down and talk? I think we have an hour before the guests start to arrive.”
Allie stared at me. “Guests?”
“I took the liberty of inviting some people you know in the area,” I said. “You'll have to forgive me but I looked on your Facebook page for that. If there's anyone on there who lives in a twenty-mile radius and is your worst enemy, you might just be mad about that now...”
Allie started to laugh. “You sneaky man!”
I felt my heart glow with pride. “I guess I am, yes.”
She laughed at me. “I can't believe it! Well, no enemies on there, so you're safe in that respect. But now, let's go and sit down.”
I nodded. I walked with her to a table. She pulled out a chair, then paused.
“Marcelle?” She called. I noticed a woman standing by the trestles, unobtrusively rearranging a tray. She was a classically-elegant African-American woman and I remembered her from the bakery.
“Yes?”
“I need to take some time here. And I think there's a lot of explaining to do, but...will you stay here? And maybe call Kelsey?” I smiled. “I think we're invited.”
“Yes,” Drew nodded. “We are.”
The woman, Marcelle, looked surprised. But she kept a cool head. I think she recognized me from the bakery and guessed. “Sure,” she said. “I'll call Kelsey and tell her to meet us in...?”
“An hour,” Allie said, looking to me and I nodded.
She waited until Marcelle was outside the hall, phone held to her ear, and then turned to me.
“Okay,” she said. “Let's talk.”
I went with her to the table and sat down. I felt as if I was standing in front of the boardroom for the first time, fighting with my too-tight suit collar and wishing I would be turned invisible. This was hard.
“Allie, I should have told you this six years ago. It would have saved us all pain. But, remember my uncle?”
“Uncle Rowell? Scary guy, gray eyes? Thin face?”
I laughed at the accurate description. “That uncle.”
“Yes,” she said. Her voice was very quiet and I guessed she remembered that day when she'd met my family and they had been...well...less than obliging.
“Well, after, um...after that. The day you met him, and the day he saw how close we were, he...he started putting pressure on me. Pressure he hadn't put on me before.”
“Like what?” she asked. She seemed caught up in what I was saying and I cleared my throat, feeling more comfortable with her now.
“Well, he put pressure on me to break it off. See someone else.”
“What?” She stared at me. “But why? Who…?”
“Carrie Bronson. A daughter of a business-associate.”
“Why her? Was it for the business? Some kind of dynasty?” She asked. She was staring at me.
“Uh huh,” I nodded. I would have smiled except that it was kind of crazy when she put it like that. “Like that.”
“So you...?” She was looking at me with a mix of horror and amazement and I looked down, feeling like the worst kind of ass.
“So I did what he told me. I was scared that, if I didn't, he'd be mad at me. He could take my career away, without trying.”
“Oh, Drew.”
When she looked up at me, her eyes were tender with understanding and I coughed, amazed. It was the last thing I was expecting.
“Allie?”
She shook her head. Her hands covered mine gently. “Drew, I... I'm sorry that happened. But why didn't you tell me? I would have understood.”
I closed my eyes. I should have told her. It was stupid of me not to. Stupid and because I was a coward.
“I didn't want to admit I was so easily-swayed. You would have thought I was weak. I didn't want to admit to you I was scared to stand up to Uncle Rowell.”
“Oh, Drew.”
We didn't say anything for a long while. I held her hands, and looked down at her fingers, slim and neat, outlined on the bleached linen.
After a moment, I felt her stir. I looked up into her brown eyes.
“So, now I know what that was about. But now...earlier...last week?” she asked. “Who called you? I need to know.”
“Okay,” I said. My voice was tight and I coughed, clearing it. I was going to be honest. “That was Carrie's father. Carrie Bronson? You know...”
“The girl Uncle supported?”
“Yes,” I said, chuckling at the description. Not that Carrie would have agreed. “That one. It was her father. He called to tell me she was very sick.”
“Oh! What happened?” Allie asked. Her eyes were tender and I was amazed that she was so compassionate for someone she had never met before. Anyone else would probably have been justifiably mad.
“She had a kidney infection,” I said. “I think it was stress and a self-destructive lifestyle mainly. But she's okay now.”
“Oh. Oh, good.” I felt her hands relax on mine. She looked up into my eyes. “But Drew?”
“Yes, Allie?”
“If that was what it was, why couldn't you tell me? I would have understood. You could have just told me your friend was sick.”
I closed my eyes. “I'm stupid,” I said honestly. I felt like an idiot. A total fool.
She chuckled a little sadly. “No, you're not. That's not the explanation, because it's not true. Why didn't you say something, then?”
I sighed. “I guess I didn't trust you. I thought if I mentioned Carrie you'd be mad at me – ruining our weekend because some other woman needed me. I guess I thought you'd be jealous and resentful and then I'd have to explain the whole story. And then what would happen?”
“You thought I... Oh!” Allie shook her head, shoulders shaking though it seemed it was with laughter and with tears. “How could you even think that? I have friends, for Pete's sake! I would understand something like that.”
I chuckled. “I know. I was an idiot. I was scared, Allie. Scared of upsetting you, in case I lost you.”
She stared at me. “Oh, Drew,” she said after a long minute. “I don't know what to say. But that makes me want to forgive you. It's easily the sweetest thing ever.”
I felt my heart melt. “Oh, Allie,” I said. My throat was closing up and I cleared it, feeling impatient with myself. “I... I don't think I deserve that. But thanks. Really. Thank you.”
She giggled. “I reckon you deserve it,” she said shakily. “And besides. I don't like being mad at you. It makes me sad.”
I felt as if spring had visited my heart. I beamed.
“Well, then. We agree that you're not mad at me. It's official.”
She laughed. “Agreed. I don't like being sad.”
“I should hope you're not sad,” I said. “This isn't the right day for it.”
“No,” she said, smiling slowly. “No, it's not.”
Her hand moved over mine and squeezed it gently. I held her fingers in mine.
We stood up slowly. I leaned in just as she did. Our lips met and I held her in my arms and we kissed.
The past was over between us. We were free to love.
As I stepped back I heard someone come into the hall. It was the events-coordinator. She looked at me with mild surprise, but managed to contain that.
“Mr. Liston? Ah...”
“What is it, Mrs. Halley?” I asked quickly.
“The guests. Sorry to disturb you, but they're here in the lobby.”
“Oh!”
Allie said it, her cheeks bright red. I looked at her and grinned. She smiled back.
“Of course, Mrs. Halley. Send them in.”
When she was gone, Allie and I looked at each other. She gave me a grin that made my body warm up from my toes to my hair and promised me everything.
“Well,” I said, turning to her. “A happy birthday.”
She smiled at me again. “Thank you, Drew.”
We kissed.