And baking. Lots and lots of baking. The freezer at home was full of banana bread and zucchini bread and about seventeen kinds of cookies.
Looking in the mirror was even less fun than all those things. "Hot mess" did not even begin to cover the way I looked. I hadn't been sleeping well as my appetite pretty firmly trained onto the sugar part of the food pyramid. Thank goodness my mom was in the midst of a busy week at the hospital because it meant I didn't have to lie to her about what my frickin' problem was.
Heaven forbid we have the kind of relationship where I could confide in her.
The woman I did have that relationship with was the mother of the man who kissed the hell out of me. The thought of facing her, of facing his entire family, was daunting for the first time ever. I'd never had to worry about what they thought of me because their acceptance was so instant, so genuine. Did they know? Had he confided in them all these years? It was a toss-up whether I wanted that to be the case or not.
Worrying about it, whether they knew about his feelings, would only serve to drive me insane. If Mrs. B knew, it would only take one look, and I'd have my answer.
"I'm fine, Joy," I told her, giving the cake my full attention again. The pale yellow buttercream smelled bright and tangy, and it made my mouth water as I spread the crumb coat.
Jennifer walked through the back door, giving us a sunny smile. "How's it going, ladies?"
Joy gave her a quick shake of the head, then jerked her chin in my direction.
Proceed with caution. Approach at your own risk.
I rolled my eyes. "Everything's good. We need more buttermilk, though. We only have one carton left."
"Really? I thought there were two full ones in there." She opened up the massive fridge next to her and cocked her head to the side. "Huh. How much pound cake did you guys sell this morning? Or was it the scones?"
"Mikey spilled one," Joy explained.
Jennifer looked over her shoulder. "Oh. What happened?"
I pursed my lips and absolutely refused to answer. Joy cleared her throat and nudged my shoulder.
With a sigh, I set down the spatula again and briefly met Jennifer's eyes. "I may have … scared him. And he dropped it."
Her forehead wrinkled. "How'd you scare him?"
The embarrassment had my cheeks burning as she took in the state of my hair with wide eyes.
"He didn't know I was behind him. He backed up into me, and I, umm, I yelled at him. Just a little bit. I'm sorry, Jennifer," I said on a rush. "I'm having a crappy week, which is no excuse. I already apologized to him, and I helped him clean it up."
She rolled her lips between her teeth, seemingly trying not to smile at the crazy looking woman who was clearly in a delicate mental state.
"Okay," she said after a second. "We'll get more buttermilk."
When she came up behind me and laid a gentle hand on my shoulder, I felt my chin wobble, so I clenched my teeth tight and breathed through that bullshit. No crying. There was no crying in the bakery.
"Whatever it is, Jocelyn," she said quietly, "it'll be all right. I promise."
What would happen if I just opened my mouth and let the words tumble out? If I tried to explain to them how off-kilter everything was now that I knew? How precarious it made me feel?
On two wheels, I was steady. Very little made me feel like I would fall or stumble. I knew now that I treated my chair like a security blanket. I was the proverbial little kid who held it with a death grip and refused to admit that anything else might replace it.
Walking was scary because I wasn't good at it. No matter the way I felt when I stood up straight and saw the world from a different height, it was still scary as hell because one wrong foot placement and kaboom, down I'd go. Changing the way I viewed Levi was scary in the same sense because it held such big, big consequences.
The thought of dating Levi—let me repeat that out loud because even the words paired together felt really freaking weird, dating LEVI—was just as precarious to me as trying to take off at a dead run.
So many things could go wrong, so many things could mess me up or mess him up in the future, and at the end, the thought of not having him in my life at all was simply awful.
But the other side of the cookie was just as impossible to ignore. I couldn't pretend I didn't know. I couldn't pretend I didn't know what it was like to be kissed. Not just by anyone. Lips and tongues, hands and fingers weren't interchangeable, I had to imagine, so what was even bigger was that I knew what it felt like to be kissed by Levi. Those moments in his arms were the closest I'd felt to flying in my entire life.
Joy shifted to the side and seemed to be watching my face very carefully. "Do you … do you want to talk about it?"
Jennifer squeezed my shoulder when my head dropped down to my chest. "I'll be back in my office if you guys need me, okay?"
I nodded, and Joy smiled as our boss—our really, really great boss—gave us some privacy. While I started the lazy Susan again, smoothing out the rest of the crumb coat before I'd lay the thin sheet of fondant on top, I took a deep breath.
Joy, the person I'd written off as silly and about as substantial as a good meringue, stood next to me, patient as a saint.
"I kissed Levi." It seemed like the most logical place to start. "Or he kissed me. I don't really remember who initiated it."
"Oh." She
