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“Thanks again, Cal,” he said. “Theo, nice meeting you.”
“You too,” Theo said, walking over with Skye.
Chris took off running toward Main Street, looking like he’d just started his workout instead of ending it. Theo shook his head. “Man, to be sixteen. I got tired just watching you two.”
“Come on, old man,” I said. “Help me get all this shit, and I’ll buy you a coffee. Is your girl opening today?”
Theo grabbed the stack of cones and glared at me. “She’s not my girl.”
“Sorry,” I said, as we walked to my SUV. “The friend you spend so much time with, you know her kid brother’s training schedule.”
“We don’t spend that much time together. I got an espresso yesterday, and she mentioned it.”
“Ok,” I said, opening the trunk so he could shove the cones inside. “But hypothetically speaking, y’all seem to have a lot in common. You both love art. You both dress like extras in a Tim Burton movie. And you’re both kind.”
Theo cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Stop being sappy before I beat the shit out of you.”
I shrugged. We both knew that’d never happen. Theo had his share of fights while he served time, and could no doubt drop my ass, but he’d never hurt me or anyone else. Not unless he was defending himself or someone he cared about. “So, is your friend Poppy working this morning?” I asked again, handing him Skye’s leash so I could sling my bag and Chris’s from my shoulders.
“She avoids mornings like I do.”
I nodded. I didn’t point out that was another thing they shared, but he knew me well enough to know I’d think it. After I put the rest of the gear in the SUV, we walked down Main Street toward Karma. Skye perked up when she saw the sign for the café ahead.
Theo stopped and handed me the leash. “I won’t be responsible for Skye while she’s hell bent on a pup cup.”
“Sure,” I said, taking the leash. “But I trust you to take care of her in any situation.”
He let out a long breath. “You shouldn’t. You of all people ought to know better.”
He walked on, leaving Skye and me to follow, while one person after another moved aside, giving him extra space on the sidewalk.
Chapter twelve
Rowan
“You girls outdid yourselves,”Mom said as she admired the dessert spread Poppy and I spent the last twenty minutes arranging.
Besides six-dozen cupcakes, I’d made cherry, coconut, and blueberry tarts, plus an assortment of cookies. The star-shaped tower held different flavors of cupcakes on each of the four tiers. The bottom two were plain chocolate and vanilla with red, white, and blue marbled frosting for the kids, but the top tiers had more exotic flavors.
My favorite was raspberry-filled chocolate with hints of hazelnut. Poppy’s was a coffee-infused cupcake with salted caramel icing. She’d spent hours building the tower and shaping stars from different colored fondant. Then she piped the icing and applied decorating dust in gold and silver. She’d elevated a simple cupcake to something worthy of a Pinterest board. I found myself baking more desserts just so I could watch her work.
The few times I’d seen Poppy sculpt, she’d seemed tense, tortured even. She’d become so focused, she’d forget to eat or sleep. We were all afraid to interrupt her. She once threw a chisel at me when I asked if she wanted to take a break and go for a walk.
A completely different side of Poppy emerged when she decorated cupcakes. The work was repetitive, yet artistic. The combination made her eerily peaceful. I swear I heard her humming. During the more monotonous tasks, like piping, we chatted about the café, Chris’s training, and even her current sculpture project.
“Do you think I made too much?” I asked Mom as Poppy fanned stacks of red-white-and-blue napkins.
“If there’s anything left over, we’ll just tell everyone to take home whatever they want.”
Poppy stood back and admired the table with a huge smile on her face.
Mom glanced between Poppy and me, and her eyes widened. “You could do this professionally. You’re both so talented, and your skills complement each other perfectly.”
Poppy waved her hand. “Mom, you’re biased. No one would pay for this.”
“I would,” Lauren said, walking up. She had on a billowy white-and-blue polka dot dress and a pair of red sandals. I looked down at my flour-covered t-shirt and cringed.
“You’re also biased,” Poppy said.
