Chapter Twenty
“I’m not sure this is for me,” Ella said the following week as she hung upside down in a silk hammock suspended from the ceiling. The instructor asked that they now extend their legs, and Ella had no idea how to even get her legs out of the thing. Had anyone ever gotten tangled in this class and had to be rescued? “Actually”—she managed to pull one leg free—“it’s my professional opinion this might be life-threatening.”
Vienna, who released both legs at the same time and was now like a floating starfish in the floor-to-ceiling mirror’s reflection, laughed. Their instructor, Rain, glanced over in that way that made Ella feel even taller and more awkward than she already did.
“Set your intention first, Ella. Don’t forget to drop your shoulders back into the pockets,” Rain said, touching her leg gently. The woman was shiny, and Ella wondered how much water she drank. She guessed she didn’t eat monkey bread. As her thoughts turned to whether Rain was her given name, Ella’s foot scooted one more inch closer to the edge of the fabric and sprang free. She looked like a giraffe emerging from the womb, she’d later tell Vienna over lunch, but in the moment, she focused on keeping a straight face so she didn’t pee her yoga pants.
“You need to give it more than one class,” Vienna said, still a perfect starfish, once Rain returned to the front of the class and guided them through the last pose.
“Uh-huh,” Ella murmured as her feet finally hit the floor. They’d done some strange stuff together, but this was a contender for the strangest.
“Can we have your bakery for lunch? I think I’ve earned monkey bread,” Ella said after Namaste and as they walked to the car.
Vienna laughed. “You did kind of look like a monkey toward the end there.”
“Yes, I did. This monkey needs her bread.”
“Fine. I’ll feed you.”
Ella rested her head on her friend’s shoulder and put her seat belt on. She was learning to love days like this. Days where joy was front and center. She’d spent so much time anticipating doors busting open or the other shoe dropping. So much time observing that moments with her friends where she was allowed to sit in joy, relish time without fear of falling behind was truly a gift. One she didn’t intend to waste.
“Have you told him yet?” Vienna asked.
“Told who what?”
“Told Boyd that you are in love with him.”
Ella snorted. “I have done no such thing. Look at you feeling all bold and poking around in my heart.”
Vienna grinned as she drove them toward downtown. “You should. Love looks good on you, sis.”
Ella was taken aback by so many things that she could not tell which needed her attention first. Sis, Vienna had used this endearment before, but after spending time with her biological sister, the love behind it softened Ella. Probably melted more of her ice heart, as Bri was so fond of saying. Sis was human, real, and a connection that suddenly felt important.
When Ella tried to think about what she felt for Boyd, or sharing those feelings with him, her mind shut down, so she focused instead on being a good sis.
“We will not be discussing my feelings. You have not said one word about your time with Thad and his mom. Spill it, sis.”
Vienna pulled up to the second light in town, one shy of her bakery, and glanced at over. “You are my sister, Ella Walters. In every way that counts.”
The women in her life never failed to erase the past, who she thought she was when she arrived. A tear traveled down her face and Ella quickly wiped it away.
“You will never know what that means to me. Thank you.” The light turned and she leaned over to kiss Vienna on the cheek. Vienna patted her hand and pulled around the back of the bakery.
“His mom still listens to records.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded. “Easy listening. Lots of Barry Manilow.”
Ella didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
“And…”
They got out of the car and she waited while Vienna ducked back in for her bag.
“Motown,” she said, her smile bursting with what seemed like relief.
“Is Motown important?” Ella asked.
“Oh, you have no idea. It’s my father’s credo. He trusts no one black, white, purple, or green who doesn’t like Motown. ‘Something wrong with a person who can’t see that genius,’” Vienna mocked in an older man’s voice.
Her parents lived in Los Angeles too, but Ella had not met them yet. After that impression, she was looking forward to it.
“Motown is everything if our families are going to get along. Motown might be the glue that holds every Thanksgiving and Christmas together. Our marriage could hinge on Motown.”
“Marriage?”
“Well, not yet, but we’re heading that way.”
Ella didn’t know what to say. She’d thought of herself as a confident woman, at least behind the walls of her job, but she had nothing on Vienna.
“What?”
“Nothing. I love that you are so comfortable with your feelings.”
“Sis, I’m thirty-five. Up until that wall of delicious man walked into my shop, I was certain I was happy alone. I’d made it through my first year of owning my own place. I wanted for nothing until Thad. Now, I don’t want anything without him.” She set her things down in the back kitchen. “If that’s not ready for four-tiered wedding cake, I don’t know what is. Nothing to hide.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“I’m happy for me too. I’d like to be ecstatic for both of us, but since you’ve managed to derail my fact-finding mission for Bri, Aspen, and even Sistine, I suppose there’s nothing left to do but feed you.”
“Fact-finding? They asked you to take advantage of me while I was trapped in that class?”
She nodded, gesturing for Ella to take her seat out front.
“Yeah? Well, tell them they underestimated the power of my… Namaste.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not the right use of the word. Go sit.”
Ella walked to her favorite table. She had not brought a book this time and it was odd at first to sit alone at a table without a distraction or a place to bury her face. But then she noticed the people milling through the line, the smiles and animated conversations. All those people had been there before, but Ella was too wrapped up in her own stuff to notice. She scooted her chair into the table a bit more and tried to roll the kinks out of her neck. She stopped mid-roll when she noticed Boyd and Mason a few tables over.
Boyd heard Ella’s laugh before he saw her. Mason did too because he turned from his Social Studies homework in the direction of the counter at Sift right as she and Vienna appeared behind the counter.
The bell on the door jangled, and Thad joined the line that ran past their table. Boyd tipped his head and the same confident “We know everyone in this town” nod was returned.
“Little late for breakfast,” Boyd said.
“Just got off work.”
“I can see that. Two days off now?”
Thad confirmed. A woman and her daughter let him go in front of them after a soft “Thank you for your service.”
“My pleasure,” he said, stepping forward. “Catch you guys later.” He waved a hand.
Mason had flipped through a couple more pages of homework by the time Thad made his way to the counter. They both looked up in time to see Petaluma’s fire chief walk around the counter, wrap Vienna in his arms, and kiss the hell out of her.
“Wow, maybe I should be getting advice from Thad,” Mason said.
The line, almost eight people deep, clapped. He set her back down on her feet and kissed the top of her head. Vienna kissed him one last time softly and handed him a box. After adjusting her apron, she apologized to the next customers in line, who of course couldn’t have cared less because they had front-row seats to that kiss.
Thad walked past them on his way out and patted Mason on the back. “The National Bank, huh?” He scanned the open book. “Nice. You know they made a musical about that guy.” He leaned on the back of Mason’s chair as if he hadn’t easily put every other guy to shame. Boyd wondered if the chair would snap in two.
“Alexander Hamilton,” Mason said, looking up. “Yeah, I know. He was awesome.”
“He was. Okay, well I’m heading home to fill my gut with sugar and fall asleep.”
“That kiss was awesome too,” Mason said. “What’s the secret?”
Thad blushed. Boyd double-checked, and there it was on his six-foot-whatever frame—pink cheeks.
“It’s love, man. She’s easy to kiss.”
Mason gave him a high five and looked at Boyd. There was a strange beat where he wanted to reach forward and somehow keep the next words he knew were coming out of his son’s mouth firmly behind his lips.
“See, Dad? You need to let it fly.”
Thad’s eyes went wide and his chest rumbled with laughter. He reminded Boyd of Mr. Clean but with hair.
“Gotta love this kid.” He bumped fists with Mason. “Take care, guys.”
“You too,” Boyd said. “Hey, thanks for that PDA.”
“Anytime, my man. Anytime.” Thad left, making the slight jingle of the door seem even smaller.
Boyd braced himself for the inevitable pep talk.
“Did you see that?” Mason went to close his book, but Boyd held it open.
“Ah, ah. No Social Studies, no movie.”
He slouched back down in his chair. “Fine, but are you at least going to talk to Ella?” he asked, now waving to her from the round table in the corner and rolling his eyes while he went back to his book.
Boyd had been so struck by Thad’s entrance and what followed that he’d forgotten Ella was over there sipping coffee. As soon as their eyes met, he questioned how he’d ever forgotten she was in the same room.
“Be right back,” he said. “Alien: Covenant is at one o’clock. Get to work. No homework, no popcorn.”
“You’re like a, like a…”
“Dad?”
“Yeah. So annoying.” Mason shifted in his chair, as if that might help him get through the last ten pages of reading.
“That’s the job.”
“Go over there and don’t mess it up. No way you’re as cool as Thad, but let’s try to at least hold up the McNaughton name, okay?”
Boyd laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
By the time he got to Ella’s table, his stupid heart was at it again. The thing was like a new puppy lately. She smiled and gestured for him to sit. He tried to find his big boy words because all he wanted to do was kiss her. Haul her into his arms and do his own version of Thad and Vienna, but Boyd’s life was as far from a bakery romance as possible.
For starters, his son a few tables down probably skimming over his reading all the while debating if he should get an Icee or a Dr. Pepper when they got to the movie theater. The dishwasher decided to dump water all over their kitchen floor last night. Boyd had a meeting with his brothers and Aspen tomorrow to go over how in debt they were now, and the timeline for the autumn beers.
He clearly wasn’t Thad, or any lead in a romantic story, but he wanted to be more than he’d ever bothered with before if it meant spending time with her. He hoped that was enough.
“They’re something, right?” Ella said, taking her glasses off and setting them on the table. Her eyes pulled him under in any light, anywhere.
Boyd grinned. “I’m telling you if you knew Thad in high school, you would have enjoyed that show even more.”
“Really?”
He nodded and filled Ella in on some of their history.
“That’s fantastic.” She glanced over at Mason. “No school?”
“Teacher in-service day.”
“On a Monday. Nice. But he still has homework?”
“Seems like he always has Social Studies.”
She grimaced. “Can’t say I was a fan of that subject.”
“Me neither.” He tapped the spoon on the table, searching for something to say. He decided the last time he’d followed Mason’s lead, he went on the best date ever, so he relied on another favorite—twenty questions—without the big intro. No sense making an ass out of himself.
“What was your favorite subject in school?” He knew it was a dumb question the moment it left, but there was no going back.
Ella smiled. “Science.”
“Right. That makes sense. Mine too.”
“Yeah?”
“Science and math. I majored in engineering.”
“Huh. What kind?”
“Civil. I worked in structural for a while.”
She nodded, and he tried to ignore the interest in her eyes that somehow validated all those years of homework.
“When did you know you wanted to be a doctor?” he asked next after confirming Mason’s book was still open and his eyes were on it.
“My sister is allergic to shrimp.” She finished another bite of monkey bread, moved the plate over, and leaned in on her forearms. “I don’t know how she made it all the way to ten without trying it—especially in my parents’ household—but she had her first shrimp at one of my mother’s luncheons. She had an allergic reaction and her throat started to swell. I’ll never forget it. My dad was out of town, so my mom called 911. The paramedics came and saved her life. She was screaming and carrying on. Becca’s not all that likable when she’s not coming out of anaphylactic shock. She’s a handful when she’s distressed.”
“Even at ten?” Boyd asked.
“She’s two years older than me so I wasn’t witness to those years, but I’m guessing since birth.”
He laughed and accepted an offered piece of her bread.
“I stood in the hallway and watched them work on her. I was eight maybe and I was hooked. She was lifeless and they brought her back, knew what to do while my mom was on the verge of passing out. Up until that point, all I knew about medicine was that my father was rarely home and when he was, he and my mother were entertaining. But these paramedics were none of that. They were the calm in my crazy household, and I wanted to be that. Wanted that control, that power.”
“You knew you wanted to be a doctor when you were eight? That’s dedication.”
“Well, I wanted to be a paramedic first, but my father is a doctor.” He noticed her jaw clench and sensed she wasn’t close with her father. He certainly wasn’t going to push. That’s where he and Mason were different.
“When I got older, I researched emergency medicine, hence a trauma doctor.” She held out her hands in an animated ta-da.
“Car accidents and gunshots?”
“Oh, you’re speaking my language.” She ate another piece of bread and washed it down with coffee.
“So, you’re an adrenaline junkie.”
“Not exactly. I mean I know doctors who are, but I’m more of a calm junkie. I like to bring order to chaos. That’s my addiction. Is it my turn now?”
Boyd was busted again.
“Twenty questions, right?”
He shook his head. Was there any dignity left, damn it? “Your turn, sure.”
“How did you meet Mason’s mom?”
“Wow! I go for career and you head right for the big prize.”
Ella laughed. “What? You are a single father, Boyd. What’s with the mystery?”
“I met her in college. Fraternity and sorority. Boring story. Was your sister all right?”
Ella nodded. “You’re avoiding my questions. We can check with Mason, but I think that’s against the rules.”
“I am not. I get tired of talking about that event in my life. Sometimes it seems that one moment defines me. People see me with Mason and it’s like I don’t exist, or my life doesn’t exist outside of being his father. That didn’t sound right.” Boyd checked on Mason, who gave him a thumbs up and made a big deal of closing his book. “I love being his dad.”
“I can tell.”
“Good, that’s good.”
Mason was packing up his stuff. Boyd was running out of alone time.
“Do you work tonight?”
“I go on in a couple of hours.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“I’m off,” she said, twisting a piece of napkin.
Boyd stood. He could sense his son’s approach and for whatever reason, that made him jumpy. “Do you like chili?”
“I do.”
“Great. Let’s have chili at our house tomorrow night.”
“I’d like that.”
“Like what?” Mason asked.
Boyd closed his eyes. It was like the timer had gone off a few seconds early.
“Chili,” Ella said. “What movie are you going to see?” she asked, navigating right past Mason’s questions. Now he really wanted to kiss her.
They discussed the movie and how he hoped the new Alien was as good as the original because the last one was “a little weak.” The kid’s vocabulary bordered on adult most of the time, but when he talked about movies or comic books, he was practically a prodigy.
“The original had Sigourney Weaver, right?”
Mason nodded. “She’s not in this one. But Katherine Waterston is, and she was in Fantastic Beasts.”
“Oh, I loved that movie,” Ella said, sweeping crumbs into her hand and depositing them onto the plate. She put her glasses on and like a kid himself, Boyd almost lost his mind.
“You’ve seen it? Awesome, right?” Mason was all but jumping in place.
“So good.” Ella flung her bag over her shoulder and set her plate in the dish bin by the garbage. She waved to Vienna and followed them out as Mason continued to jabber away about movies and comparisons.
Boyd was barely paying attention. He wanted her alone. In his bed, or hers, it didn’t matter. His entire body flushed with need and he could not seem to control it. She was talking to his son about which Batman was the best for crying out loud. It was hardly the time to be thinking about her beneath him, on top of him, and everywhere in between. Boyd stopped on the sidewalk and ran a hand across his face.
“We’re going to be late,” Mason said.
“Are you okay?” Ella touched his arm.
He wondered if his face showed exactly how screwed he was. Maybe the beard hid some of the insane need. He sure as hell hoped so or he might scare the crap out of her, or maybe not. Maybe she was wild in—What the hell is wrong with me? Don’t go there.
His brain finally made its way through the fog of lust. “Thank God.” He blinked in the sunlight when he realized he’d spoken out loud. “Yeah, no. I’m good. Are you two finished? Putting me to sleep, that’s what that was.” He grabbed Mason under his arm.
Ella laughed.
“Say goodbye to the good doctor.”
Mason squirmed free and fixed his hair. “So weird.” He flipped his bangs. “Bye, Ella. Have fun at work.”
“Bye, Mase. I’ll expect a full report on the movie. I hope it’s good.”
“Me too.”
She leaned in, put a hand on his chest, and kissed him. Only her lips, completely rated G, but his entire body snapped. He pulled her closer and stopped right at PG when Mason cleared his throat.
“We are going to be late. You two can be all mushy later. I don’t want to miss the previews.”
Ella beamed and stepped back. She stumbled a little and waved, leaning against her car. Boyd felt like he was finally getting it right. The expression on her face and the backward stumble felt like that moment when a beer recipe comes together, and despite trying to make something extraordinary out of water and plants, it’s perfect. His feelings for Ella, the way she made him feel, all of it was complicated. But in that moment he’d managed to stun her, and it felt good. He was still smiling when they said goodbye.
When they got into the truck, Mason lifted Boyd’s hand and bumped his fist.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Unexpected. I didn’t think you had that in you. I mean it wasn’t fireman level, but it was close, Dad. Nice execution.”