Life Next Door (Love Not Included Series Book 2) (11 page)

Life. It’s a fickle thing. You go through it as if tomorrow is promised, and rarely do we take the time to stop and appreciate things. May died Saturday morning in a hospital bed. She was diagnosed with stage-five lung cancer less than a month ago and knew she wouldn’t make it through the month. She didn’t tell anyone. Not even Katie.

I try to remember the last time I had a real conversation with May, other than the horrible text message I sent; it was rude and will haunt me till the end of time. She knew she was dying. She came into work, bossed everyone around and didn’t think to confide in me. She never bothered to stop me and simply say, “Oh, CeCe, by the way, I’m dying. So if you want to hug me or say anything that’s on your mind, please do so now.” She just kept it to herself.

She let me be so mad at her the last weeks of her life for shutting me out. She wasn’t paying attention to her business because she was all alone in a hospital bed, dying. I can’t help but be selfish and so angry at her, but also so ashamed of myself. I try to wrack my brain for any signs that I would have seen. Did she ever hint? Did she look sick? Why didn’t she reach out to me? I would have been there day and night by her bedside.

May always told me I was like the brilliant, pain-in-the-ass child she never had. Never one to wear her heart on her sleeve, she was always too proud to show her softer side. But I know she loved me. I loved her back. She was my mentor. She gave me so much and asked for so little in return. From the moment I stepped foot in her shop, she practically threw the keys at me and said, “Enjoy.” If it wasn’t for May, I wouldn’t have been able to make my own dreams grow into a reality.

I just can’t believe she is gone. My mournful thoughts are disrupted by the ending sermon. I hear shuffling and it’s Katie and some remaining relatives walking up to place roses on her casket. Trent is beside me, being my strength, because right now I am not sure I have any. The preacher asks if anyone has anything that they would like to say, so I step forward. It only seems right to give the last words about May before she is laid to rest.

Trent checks that I am steady on my feet and releases me. I walk with trembling legs to the podium and set my little piece of paper in front of me. I am thankful to the sun for allowing me to wear shades and cover my forlorn eyes. The feeling of everyone else’s eyes on me is discomforting. I raise my head and focus on Trent. I know he will get me through this.

I’m not sure I can do this, so I keep it short and sweet. When I finish my speech, I look up to see everyone with tears flowing down their grief-stricken faces. I look at Katie who smiles sadly at me while she wipes at her wet cheeks. I leave the podium and Trent meets me halfway. I lean into his embrace, using his strength as my comfort blanket. He guides me down the hill toward his Jeep and gets me settled inside.

There is a gathering at the bakery after the service for people to come and pay their respects. The evening before, I worked through the night to bake and prepare anything May had ever created. I knew Trent was a little worried about me and how I shut down. I haven’t cried and I don’t know why or if I will. Feeling unsettled about leaving me alone at the shop through the night, Trent stayed and helped where he could. Around midnight, we heard the bell and Katie walked in. She didn’t look any better than I did and without any words spoken, she simply stepped alongside Trent and I and we worked silently until the morning, making everything that May had ever taught us.

It’s late Sunday evening when we make it back to the house. I can’t imagine opening up the shop on Monday because it just feels wrong, but in the back of my mind, I can almost hear May yelling at me to get a hold of myself; she always said, “Pastries don’t wait for anyone.” Trent guides me up my porch stairs, takes the keys and unlocks the door. I see I missed the delivery guy and my monthly wine club box is sitting on the swing.

I go and pick it up and follow Trent into the house. I wish the world was a fairer place. But it’s not, and when I walk into the house my heel gets caught on the floor rug and I trip. My box of French wines goes flying. My box of limited-edition French wines goes flying into the ground, and the only sound I hear is bottle hitting bottle and glass shattering. Like I said, we live in a very unfair world.

I’m not sure what really happens at this point or what triggers the emotions I didn’t know I had in me, but at this precise moment, I drop to my knees and place my hands over my face. I cry. The wetness spilling down my face is an unfamiliar sensation and I know I couldn’t stop the waterworks if I tried. I feel Trent pick me up off the ground and set me on his lap as his sits on the couch.

“Shhh, baby, it’s okay.”

That, of course, makes me cry harder.

He rubs at my back and presses soft kisses into my hair. “Let it out. It’s good to cry.”

I try to speak through my hiccupping sobs. “It...it...”

“I know, baby. It’s going to be okay.”

“No, it’s not…” I cry even harder. “It…it was my last…last…box of French pinot for…for the season…” I finish and stick my face farther into his shirt and sob. I hear Trent laugh softly as he squeezes me tighter.

“Honey, what are you talking about?”

“The wine. You can’t replace it. It’s a limited edition. It’s gone. And it’s never coming baaack,” I blubber.

I silently thank Trent for not calling me out on my rerouted reason for weeping. He allows me to cry on his shoulder for another twenty minutes and I succeed in soaking most of his shirt in tears. Truth be told, any another time, I would be just as upset about the wine. French pinot is truly my fave.

I’m going to be honest and say that crying is a lot of work. Not that I have gotten much sleep over the past forty-eight hours anyway, but I am exhausted. Trent doesn’t make any move to seduce me, which I’m kind of thankful for. I’ve never fallen asleep during sex but today might be a first if we even attempted it. Instead, he is a complete gentleman and helps me undress. He discards his own clothes and we both crawl into bed, making room for Jake by our feet. Trent rests his back on the mattress and hugs my body to his. I lay my head on his chest and listen to his heart beating steadily. Without putting any thought to it, I start talking. I’m not even sure Trent is awake, but I just start vocalizing my thoughts.

“I loved her.”

He combs his fingers gently through my hair. “I know, babe.”

“I was married before.”

His fingers momentarily pause at the acknowledgement of my words. I have to assume at this point it was a given that he put two and two together.

“I got that,” he responds.

Neither one of us has mentioned the whole “Jeff” episode since that morning, but it’s not like there has been an opportunity. I never thought to mention along the way that I had been married before. I guess I just didn’t see why it would matter. I was married once, and now I’m not. That shouldn’t have any impact on my present and future.

“I love your dog.”

I feel the vibrations coming off his chest. “I’m also getting that.”

“Jeff…he left me for the next-door neighbor,” I admit. I feel him tense. He relaxes almost instantly. He says nothing to my comment, so I take that as a green light to just keep yapping. “That’s why I was so mean to you in the beginning. That house, and the people who holed themselves up in it, have bad memories for me.”

“Ce, I have to tell you something.”

“I love the way you smell, too,” I say, and I close my eyes.

“Ce...”

I don’t hear anything else he says because I am lost to the world of sleep.

I shift onto my side and the sun blazes directly through my closed eyelids. I take my pillow and cover my face. I roll back over and snuggle further into my blankets. I make a mental note to close the blinds before bed next time because that sun is brutal. It normally wouldn’t bother me since I am up so early for work. It never has the time to come through the windows.

Work…

Sunshine...

Work… 

I toss my pillow off my face and glare at my alarm clock. I seriously hope my vision is just giving out on me because I am reading 11:43 a.m.

11:43!

“Shit!” Shitshitshit, I throw myself out of bed. The sheet stays wrapped around my ankle and takes me down. “Shit!” I free my foot and shoot up, running to the bathroom. I shove my toothbrush in my mouth and get to work.

Dude WTF?! How did my alarm not go off? And where is Trent! Who just leaves to go to work themselves and leaves the other one in bed and not wake them up?! I drop my toothbrush, spit and rinse. I run back into my bedroom and throw on a tank top and a skirt. My hair goes up in a messy bun and I snatch the first pair of sandals I see pouring out of my closet.

I dash into the kitchen, and suddenly stop. Trent is casually sitting at my counter, reading the paper while sipping on his coffee.

“Why didn’t you wake me? I’m so late to work! Katie is going to kill me!” I can’t get my words out fast enough. There is no time!

“Your phone was going off super early this morning. You weren’t budging, so I answered it. It was Katie. Told me that the shop is going to stay closed today, so don’t bother rushing in. She told me to let you sleep in, and when you got up, to give her a ring. She will want you to meet her at the bakery. Something about lawyer stuff.”

I just gawk at him. That’s crazy talk. May’s hasn’t been closed on a Monday since it opened. And he said something about lawyers? That can’t be good. I guess I never thought about what would happen to May’s or my job in all of this. I feel the hole in my stomach widen to a heavy pit and a wave of fear moves into its place.

“Oh.”

“Babe, come here,” Trent says and holds out his masculine arms for me to immerse myself in them.

“Why aren’t you at work?”

“I took the day off.”

“Why?” I ask while I make my way over him to. He reaches for me and pulls me the rest of the way into his lap. “Cause I think my girl needs me right now and I want to be there for her if she does.”

Melting.

I am melting.

How can a man be so possessive and sexy, but so gentle and sweet at the same time? I lift my hand and brush my knuckles softly along his cheek. “I missed you when you were gone. That whole week. I lied when I said I didn’t. I missed you a ton. I did nothing but wish you would call so I could hear your voice, or that you’d surprise me and come home early.” I brush a gentle kiss to his lips. “I wanted you to come home and take me roughly, then again gently and I wanted you to sleep in my bed. And I wanted to spoon you and wake up next to you.” I lay another kiss on his parted mouth. “Anyway, I’ve realized life is too short to keep things from the people in my life. So…I thought I should let you know that.” 

I see his Adam’s apple moving but he doesn’t speak. This silence is not one of those comfortable ones between two people who share a closeness and intimacy. Nope, it’s an awkward as hell silence, filled with tension and the weight of his response left unsaid. I finally decide to break it.

“Um, so I guess before I make things any more awkward, I’m going to go call Katie.”

His silence is escalating my humiliation. Stupid feelings. I push back, but shockingly I meet resistance. His arms tighten even more around me.

“Stop moving.”

“What?” I’m feeling not only humiliated, but confused now, too.

“I said, stop moving. Your sweet little voice. All those sweet things that are coming out of it, whether it’s the right time or not, are making me hard as fuck. And I want nothing more than to take you on this counter and fuck you until you spit out more of that sweet talk. But I know now’s not the time, so I’m trying to be a gentleman. But all this wiggling outta my arms is making it worse. I haven’t come in my pants like a school boy recently and I would like to keep it that way.”

There it is again. That flutter in my heart. Our eyes stay connected and we have that silent conversation again. There is something that sits right at the tip of our tongues, but neither one of us is going to be the first to step up and confess. I kiss his mouth. Once. Twice. And then I pull back.

“How about I make you that cupcake waffle breakfast I owe you and we can see where the day takes us?”

The genuine smile radiating off his face is confirmation of his approval. “I’d like that.”

In the end, cupcake waffles were made and I was made out with. Both were eaten, the cupcakes and myself. Trent thanked me for breakfast in a way that left my ass numb and the frames on the wall crooked.

I think things are going to be okay.

After breakfast, I shower, change and call Katie. She needs me to meet her at May’s. Something about signing some papers with some lawyers. She isn’t able to get more into detail over the phone, so I leave Trent to fend for himself and head to May’s.

I pull up to the shop and see that Katie is already inside with an older looking gentleman. The butterflies are going bonkers in my stomach. I’m preparing myself to be unemployed by the end of the day, which I am okay with. This will give me the push I need to get serious about my dream shop.

I open the door and the bell catches their attention. “Hey!” Katie stands and gives me a huge bear hug. I’m glad to see she looks much better since that last time we saw each other.

“Hey, yourself.” I look at the older man and he stands and shakes my hand.

“CeCe, this is Mr. Reynolds. He was Aunt May’s attorney and handled her will.”

Will? What does that have to do with me? I’m confused as to why I needed to come into the shop for that.

“Did you need the keys to the shop?” I ask. What reason would I be a part of this other than to cut me out?

“No, CeCe. That’s not why we’re all here. Sit, please.” I reluctantly sit and Katie grabs my hand under the table.

“Ms. Westcott, I have had the pleasure of working with May Billings for quite some time now. She was a great woman and I am very sorry to see her pass.” I feel the tears building up behind my lids at his compassionate. “I agree, Mr. Reynolds. Thank you for the kind words.”

“I’ve also, for the last couple of years, heard a lot about you,” he continues.

“About me?” I ask, surprised.

“Oh yes, Ms. Westcott. It seems May was a big fan of yours. Did nothing but rave about you. Throughout the years, I felt like I knew you myself just by the stories she would tell.”

At his confession, I lose the battle with my emotions and the wetness begins escaping down my face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Westcott, I don’t mean to upset you. I just thought you should know. She thought of you as her own blood. She always said you were the daughter she never had.”

These stupid tears won’t stop flowing down my face. His endearing words are hitting me straight in my heart. Knowing she cannot be here to tell me all this herself is so painful.

“Do you need a moment, Ms. Westcott?”

“No, no, I’m okay. Please, Mr. Reynolds, go on.” Katie hands me a napkin and I wipe my face. He places a stack of papers in front of me and sets down a pen. “Ms. Westcott. You know what a will is, correct?”

“Yes.”

“May knew she was going to be leaving us, Ms. Westcott. And with that information, she prepared. I want you to know that this will was made up over two years ago. Before she was diagnosed with lung cancer. I’m not sure if that helps make this easier, but I wanted to get that out there.”

“I’m not sure I’m following, Mr. Reynolds.” Because I am not. Whatsoever.

Katie squeezes my hand again. I take a peek at her and she is smiling, tears beginning to fall down her face. “Ms. Westcott. If you flip to page seven on May’s will, without getting into the lawyer mumbo-jumbo, it states here…” He flips to the page and points to the bold wording, “
At the time of my death, I, Mayvis Billings, leave the sole ownership of May’s Bakery and Establishment to a Ms. Priscilla Westcott.”
 

Uh, what?

“Are you still with me, Ms. Westcott?”

I shake my head no, because I honestly do not know what is happening right now.

“Ms. Westcott, it was May’s wish when she left this world to leave you the bakery. She wanted nothing more. Unfortunately, her time on this earth was shorter than she thought. Since this had already been written up years ago, there wasn’t too much to update. She set up all her finances, so everything had been paid in full. You take up no financial responsibility of the shop. There are no outstanding bills or debts on the building. May was a saver and in her words, not mine, ‘You can’t take your money when you die, old man.’ With that, she cleared up any loose ends she had. She left the bonds for her home to Katie, which we have already gone over. But everything else is left to you.”

My heart is swelling out of my chest as we speak. Her love. Her baby. And on her death bed, she thought of me. I can’t help but burst into tears again. This is
not
what I was expecting. Even in death, May is still giving me hope and love.

“I don’t know what to say.” Truly, I don’t.

“You don’t have to say much, Ms. Westcott, just sign on the dotted line if you want to take ownership of May’s. Once you sign, if you do, I will submit the paperwork and sign over the deeds to you. Within a month, at most, May’s will officially be yours.”

I turn to look at Katie who is clearly a wreck. “Did you know about this?” I ask her.

“I caught wind of it about a year back. May had a few too many martinis and spilled how her shop was going to strive way after she was gone due to her baker angel.”

What is wrong with my eyes? I just can’t stop crying!

“Oh, Katie.” I grab and hug her. We both cry in sadness and in happiness.

“So, I hope with all these changes I still have a job,
bosss,
” she says, trying out my new title. I laugh and smack her on the shoulder.

“I would come after you if you even thought about leaving me.”

Mr. Reynolds clears his throat next to us. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I do have another appointment so if you are ready, you can sign and I will be on my way.”

“Yes, yes.”
Heck yes
. I pick up the pen and glide my signature across the crisp, white document. I stare back at my name which I’ve signed on the dotted line to a title for a bakery that I have given my heart to. Because of a woman who has given her heart to me.

“I will be in touch, Ms. Westcott. Here is my card.” He hands me his card along with a smaller envelope. “This was also to be given to you at the time of our meeting. I will leave you to read it in private.”

He shakes Katie’s hand along with mine and is gone. I stare at the envelope and on the front is my name, written in May’s handwriting. I struggle to suck air into my lungs.

“Well, I’m going to give you some privacy. I’m sure you will want to read that alone,” Katie says and I look up from the envelope.

“Um, thanks. Yeah. I’m just going to stick around a little bit longer if that’s okay with you.”

“Definitely. It’s your shop.” She smiles. “See you tomorrow? Back to the grind?”

“You bet. I’m sure Mrs. Humphries is just beside herself without her bunko cupcakes.”

We both laugh. She gives me a hug and leaves. This envelope is searing holes into my skin. I want to read it so bad, but I’m not sure my emotions can handle any more right now. I walk back into the bakery and sit on my trusty, metal creation table. I open the envelope like the paper is made of gold, trying not to tear any part of it. I unfold the paper and see the handwritten letter.

My Dearest CeCe.

If you are reading this, it probably means I kicked it.

I know you’re likely mad with me because I didn’t let you in on my little secret, and I’ll take it. You know me, always thinking about myself. I want you to know that I kept this from you because I never wanted you to worry.

I watched you day in and day out and I saw that light missing from your eyes. I always hoped I would make it long enough to see you find some of that light again. You’ve been through so much in your short life and I never told you this when I was alive, so since I am gone and you can’t tell me to shut up, I’m going to tell you now.

You lived half a life with that floozy ex of yours. You deserve the world. You deserve to be loved by someone who does nothing but rise in the morning and lay down at night worshipping you. You are a true star, my sweet CeCe.

I hope one day life finds you love that treats you how you should be treated. I hope you find light in life again and I hope you don’t stay mad at me forever. When I started May’s, I thought I would never meet another soul with as much love and admiration for sugar as myself. The day you walked into my store, my life changed. It’s like we were soul-mate bakers, meant to cross paths.

As years passed, I watched you outshine me and that blew me away. You have such a talent, and every day you made me proud. I’m sure you were just told that I left you the shop. There was never a question in my mind as to what to do with it.

It’s your baby, just as it was mine. I’m not sure if Reginald went over the fine details, but I released all rights to the name. Once it becomes yours, you are free to change it. I know about your dream, and I want to give it to you. It’s the least I can do in return for you giving me the best years of my life.

You are a true angel, CeCe, and I hope we meet again one day. Turn this into your creative shop, the one I know you dream about. Make your dreams into a real life. And please, for me, egg that neighbor’s house once more. Know that I will be looking down and laughing my ass off. I always enjoyed that weak side of you. I’m up in heaven right now telling these crazy angels how maturity is overrated.

May

The last sentence is almost hard to read because of the tears clouding my vision. I am so lost in my feelings, I don’t hear the bell. I look up and see Trent standing just inside the door, watching me. Waiting.

Struggling with my words, I don’t speak. I look into his concerned eyes, silently questioning his presence.

“Katie called me. Said you might need a hug.” He proceeds to walks toward me, stepping into my personal space as he wraps his arms around me. I snuggle into his fresh-smelling shirt. A new wave of emotions hit me. Thankfully, though, I think I am all cried out.

“You okay, babe?” he asks, while resting his chin on the roof of my head.

“Yeah, I think so.”

He squeezes me tighter and places a kiss into my hair. “That’s good.”

“May left me the shop,” I say, sniffling into his shirt.

“I heard that.”

“She told me to be happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” I pull away from him so I can look into those beautiful, blue eyes. “Trent?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Take me home and make me happy.”

His gentle smile offers me exactly what I need. “You got it, Sweetcheeks.”