Ember

My insides are all shaky, and I almost dropped Betty’s penis cake. “Damn Jackson Cane,” I say under my breath. “Hi, André.” I wave to the poboy maestro behind the counter.

“Ember Rose!” he calls out in his smooth voice. “Something for me?”

“Oh, um…” My cheeks flame red. Damn Betty Pepper and her perverted orders. “Not exactly. Is Betty in the back?” I hurry down the aisle to the door at the back of the store before he can ask to see what’s in the box.

Since we both work in the food trade, André and I are always sharing our latest creations.

“Should be.” The front door starts to open, and I can tell by the baseball cap it’s Jackson.

“Thanks!” I push through Betty’s office door, shutting it quickly behind me.

For a moment, I lean my forehead against it and listen. I’m breathing fast, and sure enough, Jackson’s voice fills the store. It sounds like he and André are having a lively conversation… complete with laughter.

Jerk. I can’t believe he can just stand out there and laugh and act like nothing has changed. Like he can waltz back into Oceanside, and I’ll be waiting to fall at his feet. The more I think about it, the madder I get.

Turning slowly, my jaw is tight as I look around the room. The space is about the size of a small kitchen with paper and office supplies filling a tall set of metal shelves dividing it in half. Betty’s wooden desk is situated in the back corner. It appears to be empty.

“Hello?” I call, and Donna White sticks her head around the corner.

“Oh, hey, Emberly. I’m just finishing this inventory.”

I go to where she’s sitting on a high stool holding a clipboard and a box of ballpoint pens. “Where’s Miss Betty?”

“She went down to make a deposit and mail some stuff.”

Hesitating, I can still hear the voices out front. “Mind if I hang out and wait for her?”

“Sure!” She leans back and returns to counting. “You have her cake?”

“Yeah.” I walk around to the other side of the room. “Does she have a refrigerator or anything I can store it in? It’s kind of stuffy. I don’t want the icing to melt.”

Donna hops down and motions for me to follow. “She has a spot cleared in the back of the refrigerated section you can use.”

“So long as André doesn’t see it.”

We pause in front of the silver metal door. “Can I see it?” she whispers.

“Sure.” I lift the lid, and inside is the dark-chocolate confection. “I tempered the chocolate to make it shine.”

“It’s so big!” Donna’s face goes from bright red to pale in a matter of seconds.

“Betty said to make a cake for twenty people.”

She blinks at it several more seconds then she bursts into giggles. “Oh!” She sniffs, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just… It’s so shiny!” She immediately starts giggling again. “It looks so real!”

“It’s what Betty wanted,” I say, trying to defend myself. “And it’s a paycheck for me.”

“Oh, Ember…” She laughs a little more, but then her mood starts to change. “Oh, Ember,” she says again, walking to her stool and slumping her shoulders.

Now I’m really confused. “Are you crying?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, wiping her eyes quickly. “I’m just feeling a little emotional these days.”

Rubbing her arm, I smile. “Well, that’s normal. You’re about to get married. It’s a big transition.”

Nodding quickly, she wipes her face with a tissue. “Right. I know you’re right.”

We’re quiet a moment, and I leave my NC17 dessert in Betty’s fridge. I don’t hear voices out front anymore, but I’m not sure I should leave Donna alone.

“Is there anything else on your mind?”

She looks up at me, her watery eyes round. “Actually…” Her cheeks go pink again. “Well, I mean, you’ve had sex before, right?”

“Uh, yeah… I have a daughter.”

“Right.” She nods fast, picking up the clipboard. “And here you are. Just fine!”

The uncertain reassurance in her voice almost makes me laugh. “That’s right. I am fine. Is that what you’re worried about? Giving birth?”

Hopping off the stool, she runs to the door and locks it. Then she comes back and clasps both my hands in hers.

“Ember! I’m so scared! I’ve waited and waited. I told Liam I was waiting to have sex until we were married because that’s what God wants us to do, but the truth is I don’t want to have sex with him at all!”

Her voice rises to a shriek, and I hold my hand just in front of her lips. “Shh! André will come back here.”

She’s breathing fast, but the shrieking stops. Chewing my lip, I’m not exactly sure if Donna is trying to tell me she’s a lesbian or if she’s really just that scared of penises.

And I’m totally going to hell, because I’m also thinking about her $500 wedding cake order.

“What exactly is on your mind?” I say instead.

She starts to pace, slapping her palms on her thighs as she speaks. “First, the way it’s done! It has to go in there!” She slaps her leg. “And Liam is a big guy! I can only imagine his, you know…” She wiggles her hand in front of her like a fish. “Is equally big.”

“Okay, well first, it doesn’t move like that.” I put my arm around her shoulder. “And there are ways to manage size differences in the beginning.”

I don’t add she might not mind it so much down the road. Instead, I press for a little more information. “Is that the only thing you’re worried about? Or is there something more… fundamentally wrong?”

I don’t know how else to put it.

“I’ve heard it hurts really bad even when the guy is small.” Her voice is quiet now. “So here I am. I don’t even use tampons! And on top of that, I pick the most enormous man to marry.”

My lip is between my teeth again, and I decide to just go for it. “Okay, well, I can give you some tips, I guess.”

She spins under my arm to face me. “Oh, would you?”

I guess it’s okay to talk about this with her. “So you know Jackson was my first. He’s pretty well-endowed.”

“Did it hurt really bad? What did you do?”

“Well…” Maybe I shouldn’t tell her I was so horny I tried to climb him like a tree. “It helps if you’re really wet, you know?”

“Like in the shower? Oh! Or in the ocean?”

“No… that’s actually counter-productive because those liquids can wash away your own, personal wetness.”

“Oh!” She frowns. “You mean… like urine?”

“Good grief, Donna, don’t you know anything about sex?” I don’t mean to shout, but what are they teaching in school these days? My mind travels to Coco Bean and what she might or might not know at twenty-two.

“I was home schooled,” she says mournfully. “I got home from school one day and asked my mother what F-U-C-K spelled… It was written on the bathroom wall, and she pulled me out of public school.”

Pressing my lips together, I study her a moment. “That shouldn’t have made a difference. Your mother made you, after all.” The things parents don’t tell their children. “Okay,” I continue, and for the next few minutes I give her a basic lesson on anatomy and foreplay until she seems less panicked about it all.

“Communication is critical,” I finish. “Tell Liam your fears. If he loves you, he’ll work with you. Do you love him?”

She nods her head quickly. “Very much.”

“That’s the most important thing.” My phone buzzes, and I lift it, studying the text message from my mother.

Polly’s mother invited Colette to spend the night for her birthday. I think it’s okay. They’re a good, Christian family.

Frowning at the last sentence, I go slowly to the door and unlock it. “I’ve got to head back now, but I’m just down the way if you have any other questions.”

“Thanks, Ember.” Donna is quiet.

I glance up and give her a smile. Outside the door, I wave to André, who’s helping a customer. Studying my mother’s words, I decide there are worse things than having a sleepover with a good, Christian family. Anyway, I know Polly’s mom. She’s nice.

“Who’s side am I on?” I say as I tap out my reply.

I’m sure she’ll have fun. Thx.

I lower my phone and look up to see none other than Jackson heading down the lane. His back is to me, and he’s apparently walking to the cottage. I quickly scan the deserted street to be sure no one sees me watching as he goes. I can’t help noticing he hasn’t changed. His shoulders are still broad and his arms are still naturally sculpted. His ass is still tight and perfect in those jeans.

His hair is shorter. I guess lawyers don’t have shaggy hair, which is kind of sad. Still, thinking back to our earlier encounter, I kind of like his polished look, or polished meets scruffy under a baseball cap, unshaven, and sweaty from working hard.

Chewing my lip, I can’t stop the onslaught of memories of our first night together. The flinty determination in his eyes this afternoon mixed with my talk with Donna unearthed all those feelings I’d been wrestling to keep tightly packed away.

I’d been in love with Jackson Cane since I was old enough to know what love was, and I’d wanted to be his since my hormones kicked in and my body started changing.

He resisted me because of our age difference. He was almost eighteen, and I took full advantage of the almost that summer. I knew it was my last chance before the steel wall of the law slammed down, cutting off any possible romance between us.

Pushing my door open, I cross the empty space to the back stairs. I’d convinced him to teach me how to kiss… I’d felt what he wanted in that kiss, and if the clock ticking had made me desperate, the fire in his lips made me fearless.

My entire body is hot, and I go to my refrigerator. I don’t normally have wine during the week because of Coco, but tonight, I pour a decent-sized glass of Chardonnay and take a long drink.