How to Bake a Perfect Life - Barbara O'Neal [78]
Nearly every night I wake up at some point and lie in the dark, staring at the ceiling. Sometimes I think of Sofia. Sometimes I worry about the business. I think of the baby, wondering how he or she is doing while Sofia is so stressed out. I worry that the birth will be hard on her. I was going to be there, her coach, and I’m very disappointed that it might not happen now.
I take refuge in work, getting up to bake, often finding Jimmy there already. She’s an insomniac, and the hours of a bakery suit her well. Together, we bake and talk about everything in the universe, from men and children to food to politics and music.
By the time dawn tumbles through the windows, the darkest worry is tucked away. It is the time of year I love the best, May sliding into June. My grandmother’s garden is exploding into blossom, and I love the way the light falls, illuminating valleys you never see the rest of the year; the burnished look of morning on the grass; the hot afternoons broken by dramatic thunderstorms that wash the air and give us cool, cricket-spun evenings.
It is on one of those dramatic afternoons, as clouds roll in over the mountains with menace, that my sister Stephanie shows up at the bakery. I’m alone, refreshing the last of the starters, when she storms through the back door, letting the screen door slam behind her. She makes so much noise that I think it’s Katie and Merlin and raise my head to reprimand them.
Instead, there’s Steph, in a pair of jeans and a turquoise tank, silver jewelry around her neck and wrists and swinging from her ears. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she looks athletic and hearty, like an Olympic skier. “Steph!” I say in surprise, because it has been ages since we’ve spoken.
“Are you sleeping with Cat Spinuzzi?”
Of course that’s what this is about. Because she couldn’t just come and talk to me. She has to show up with her temper turned to scald. It’s the only way she deals with me these days. I sigh, scraping the last of the starter into a clean jar with a rubber spatula. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
It never helps for two Gallaghers to get pissy at the same time. Wars erupt that way, wars that last as long as … well, this one between my sister and me. Eight years, more or less. Since I inherited the house, which was the final nail in the coffin of our relationship. It infuriated her. As calmly as I can, I say, “Mom saw Cat over here a couple of weeks ago and jumped to conclusions.”
“I don’t believe you.” She crosses her arms. “I saw you with him at the Sunbird one night, had to be a year ago.”
“It’s none of your business, but what difference does it make, Stephanie? Honestly. I mean, we’re grown.”
“Is that a yes? God, I can’t believe you! You’ll do anything to get what you want.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, don’t pretend you’re not using him, just like you use everybody else!”
“That’s not true!” It’s no easy thing to keep my anger burbling on low. “Cat’s my mentor, the person who stood in my corner when the rest of you stuck with my cheating, lying skunk of an ex-husband.”
“That was business. Dane was a hell of a manager and we were lucky to have him. He single-handedly shifted the fortunes of our company, and you know it. We couldn’t fire him, and it would have been stupid anyway.”
“First of all, he took the job our father should have given me, and you know it. Secondly, he didn’t single-handedly shift the fortunes of the business—I was there, too. And, third, if Dad had fired him, I wouldn’t have quit, and I could have had the position he kept.”
“It’s not always about you! You think the world is supposed to stop every time you get a hangnail, for God’s sake!”
“Actually, that was about me. It was my husband, my job, my rift with the family.”
“God, Ramona, when are you ever going to grow up?”
“Says the woman who is still working for her daddy!”
“I’m not working for him. We’re partners. As you would have been if you hadn’t turned your back on the restaurants.”
“Yeah, he calls you his assistant. That’s not partners.