I watch her leave arm in arm with Cecily, and when I run a hand through my hair and find it full of macaron batter, I can’t help but smile.
Chapter Fifteen
Georgie
For the next few days, Cecily says she has work to do and camps out in her hotel room, only joining me for lunch and dinner each day. She keeps our conversation to anything that isn’t the happenings in Willow Cove or my marriage, which is becoming increasingly more frustrating because she won’t say a word about what she’s planning to tell Mr. Vanderman.
The only comment she has made so far was the day after the macaron situation, after I found a little plastic baggie filled with poorly assembled macarons and tied with a ribbon. King baked the cookies, which didn’t rise properly, and sandwiched a few of them with light green frosting that was incredibly lumpy but properly proportioned. They weren’t much to look at, but they tasted good, and the fact that he finished the task without direction from me seemed to please Cecily.
“How sweet of your husband,” she said.
That has been the only mention of King in days, and I am terrified about what’s coming next from her.
I’ve seen King a couple of times, mostly when he’s on his way in to the surf shack. He tries to stop by the bakery whenever Mrs. Vanderman is in the lobby, and though we’ve avoided any kissing, like there’s an unspoken agreement between us to forgo that necessity if we can, I’ve started getting used to my morning hugs from Royal Kingston.
Hugs from that man are life-giving.
I’ve also fallen into the habit of calling him Royal again. He hasn’t corrected me, so either he’s giving in because he thinks it’s stubbornness fueling the change and is tired of fighting me, or he is starting to like his name. I don’t remember him ever letting anyone call him by his first name except me, and the allowance now has set a fire in my belly.
When it comes to this version of King, I think every step he allows me in his direction is a big thing. And I find myself wanting to take whatever steps I can.
“So you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to,” Emily says as she wipes down the front counter. For the first time in days, we don’t have any customers, and both of us are enjoying the quiet. At least, I was until Emily started her inquiry. “But how did you and King meet?”
Though I would like to keep reading this blog about which country has the best butter for baking, I can tell Emily has been wanting to ask this question for a long time. Probably since the day I showed up in Willow Cove.
I give her a smile and put my phone in my pocket. “It was actually here in the bakery when we were twelve.”
She gasps, eyes going comically wide. “Really?”
“Yep. It’s probably hard to imagine, but King was all limbs back then.” I look at the wall of pictures behind me, hunting for one of my favorites. “Ah! Here he is. He’s probably fourteen or so in this one.”
The picture is one of Bill and King, both clutching surf boards and looking bedraggled. Like I told Emily, King is tall and gangly in his wetsuit, though it’s easy to tell that he’s starting to fill out with surfing muscles. His dark hair flops in his eyes, but his smile makes it clear he couldn’t be happier with his current situation.
Emily hurries over to check out the picture. “Oh my gosh, he’s so cute! I’ve never really looked at these pictures before.” She starts examining them all, taking in the documentation of Bill’s bakery from its humble beginnings up until what I’m guessing isn’t long before he died.
I look a little more closely as well, surprised to see how many pictures of King are on this wall. There’s a photo of eighteen-year-old King in a graduation gown, King cutting a ribbon in front of the newly renovated surf shack, King on the campus of Charleston Southern University. As they go along, the pictures are less and less about the bakery and more about the Kingston family, even if that family was just the two of them.
The picture with the surfboards was probably taken right before King’s mom died and Bill took him in. Bill was never annoyed that he had to take care of his nephew, and sometimes I was pretty sure he was grateful to have someone with him. Bill and I spent a lot of time together over the summers, and he was always so proud of the person King was becoming. He liked to say whoever earned King’s love would be a lucky person indeed, and he always had a mischievous glint in his eye when he did.
I don’t think I was lying when I told Mr. Vanderman that Bill wanted King and me to get together.
“Why did you guys take so long to get married?” Emily asks, still checking out the photos.
My answer comes more easily than I expect it to. “Because I was scared.”
“Scared of King?”
“Scared of missing out on the life I thought I was supposed to live.”
Emily giggles a little and returns to cleaning the countertop. “At least you figured out it doesn’t get better than being with King!”
Did I figure that out? A week ago, I would have said no, but every time he leaves the bakery with a warm smile, a part of me aches for him to stay. I’ve been more relaxed over the last week than I’ve been in years, and as much as I don’t want to admit it out loud, Willow Cove is starting to feel like home.
Maybe my dreams were all wrong. What if it wasn’t control I craved but knowing I would be okay even when things go wrong? I know I can find that safety with King because it has always been there. Since the day I met him. He’s the steadiest person I’ve ever known. What if I…
The bell above the door jingles, and excitement rushes through me when Cecily steps inside.
“Finally!” The word rushes out of me.
My friend lifts an eyebrow. “Finally?”
“I was starting to think you’d never show up.”
“You miss me that much?”
“Yes?”
Cecily’s grin turns devilish. “Why did that sound like a question, Georgie?”
It wasn’t supposed to be, and I don’t know why my heart rate has kicked up a notch. “It wasn’t a question! I’m always glad to see you, Cece.”
“You’re glad to see me because it means you get to see King.”
Absolutely. “Do I? I thought you were here to see me.”
“I am here to save your marriage.” She grabs my hand and starts dragging me to the door. “Emily, Meg and Rebecca will be here soon!”
