Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(28)

She rounded the corner. Her mother swept across the linoleum in her floral nightgown, waving a spatula. She cradled a bowl against her stomach and was stirring ferociously.

A buzzer rang, and Mom set down the bowl, pulled a pan from the oven, then set it on the counter with what looked like two hundred other cupcakes. Bags of flour, sugar, and chocolate chips were scattered everywhere.

She saw Meridith. “Oh, honey, I’m glad you’re up. Come, sit down. Mommy has wonderful news!”

Meridith moved slowly across the sticky carpet. She climbed onto one of the bar stools overlooking the sea of cupcakes. Chocolate ones, vanilla ones. Some of them iced with pink, others as naked as her Totally Hair Barbie doll.

“I’m going to start a bakery business! I quit my job. Who needs that lousy, boring job anyway? I’m going to make cupcakes and cookies and, here, taste this.”

She handed Meridith a cookie, and Meridith slid it into her mouth, chewing tastelessly.

“Awesome, huh? I can’t wait until morning, I’m going to call all the local grocers and restaurants. I’m going to call it Simone’s Sweets, don’t you love it?” Her blue eyes glittered under the bright kitchen lights. “Don’t you like that name, Simone?” She said it with a foreign accent. “I’m going to change it tomorrow—so much more elegant than Susan, isn’t it? Aren’t you happy, baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Mommy.” Her mother’s auburn hair hadn’t been washed in days, and it stuck to her scalp at the top, but the rest was tossed and ratty like she’d just roughed it up good.

“Once all the grocers and restaurants around here start carrying my baked goods, I’ll open my own shop, and we’ll make a fortune! No more living in this run-down apartment, no sirree! I’m going to buy my baby a house in Lindonwood Park with the rich folk, what do you think of that? And once my sweets hit it big, I’m taking it national! A whole chain of Simone’s Sweet Shops!”

“But—but what about your job, Mommy?”

“Ugh, you sound like your daddy. Don’t be such a spoilsport! This is my new job, and it’ll be so much more fun! You can help me bake—here, stir this—and we’ll build it together. Tomorrow you can help me make fudge and candies, and then we’ll take samples around to every grocer in St. Louis, and once they taste our awesome sweets, they’ll order up a big batch—all of them!”

“Tomorrow’s Wednesday, Mommy. I have school.”

“Oh! That’s right. Well, you can help me when you get home. We’ll have so much fun together and make a fortune, just you wait and see!”

Meridith set the bowl and spoon down and looked at the stove clock. “I think I’ll go back to bed.”

She thought her mom might argue, but she was already scooping batter into the baking cups and humming “Achy Breaky Heart.”

Meridith slid off the stool and returned to her room. How were they going to pay rent if her mom quit her job? She had slid under the covers and pulled them over her head, knowing she wouldn’t go back to sleep.

Now, Meridith turned over and pulled the feather pillow into her belly. Simone’s Sweets hadn’t gotten off the ground, hadn’t been picked up by the grocers or restaurants. Within a matter of weeks her mother was back in bed, her dreams of the bakery business fading as quickly as the leftover aroma of cupcakes.





Fifteen

Two days later Meridith returned home from the Nantucket Atheneum with an armload of books on grief and children. She sneaked them to her room, avoiding Jake, who was replacing the chandelier in the dining room.

Since the big blowout two days earlier, a new tension had invaded the house. Noelle was barely speaking, Ben clung to Noelle instead of to Meridith, and Max buried himself in his boat model project. Even though Meridith had gone to the thrift shop and retrieved the hat. Even though she’d offered to take the children and buy back anything they wanted.

It had apparently been the concept, not the clothing, that mattered. Meridith wished she could alleviate the children’s pain. Her own guilt had morphed into a pervasive ache.

Jake had changed, too, growing more distant, speaking only when necessary. The mood in the house was stilted and awkward and made Meridith want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head. But she wasn’t ten anymore.

A loud crash sounded downstairs, followed by Jake’s grumbles. He’d been so grouchy. She did her best to avoid him, though it wasn’t easy when he worked in the main living areas. She’d already run every conceivable errand. She’d stocked the cupboards, had the oil changed in the van, bought Ben some button-up shirts that allowed for ease of change with his cast. She’d even gone to the driving range and hit a bucket of balls, just to stay away awhile longer.

The phone rang, and she rushed down the main stairway to answer. She retrieved the extension, catching sight of Jake through the dining room doorway.

“Summer Place, may I help you?” She injected the words with an enthusiasm she didn’t feel, watching as Jake ran the utility knife blade through the tape of the new light fixture’s box.

“Hi, honey.”

“Stephen. I’m glad you called. You must be on lunch break.”

The utility knife paused for a beat.

“I realized it’s been three days,” Stephen said. “Time just seems to leak away during tax season.”