M I C H A E L

“ Ah, I’m looking to order two dozen cupcakes for pick up on Monday morning. ” Phoebe stepped further into the warmth of the bakery, smiling with fondness at the smell of fresh baked bread. “ I need a dozen of them to be chocolate, and a dozen of them to be vanilla. ”

Noting the customer’s order, he reached for a notepad and pen and began to make notes of what she was asking for, pricing up as he went. “Gotcha,” he said, “twelve chocolate, twelve vanilla,” he muttered.

“We don’t have to have them!” He laughed. “It’s just an option. I might’ve gotten more into weed after I stopped drinking.” He shrugged his shoulders. He leaned into his cane as they started walking along the street. “It’s been alright! Ethel’s has always been a good spot to go to for floral arrangements and bouquets. I was lucky she let me expand it a bit to have houseplants and gardening materials and everything like that. I feel like it’s definitely grown and people can come in not just for a bouquet, you know? And that’s certainly made it busier.”

“Ay, that’s amazing, man,” Michael grinned at the news of the progression of the business. “Looks like you could give me a hint or two on how to make Red Velvet develop.” Laughing softly to himself at that thought, he shook his head. 

After everything, he was still adjusting to the world, or rather being back in it. Sure he remembered what it had been like before, but actually being here again was proving harder then he expected. Not something he had told anyone, he didn’t want to burden them. 

Still, he was relieved to get the message from Michael. He needed a break from… he wasn’t even sure what it was a break from. “Always could do with a chill out. I love my kids, but they have too much energy” he replied with a smile. “Nothing too crazy I hope”. 

Reaching over to grab a beer, he cracked one open and took a long sip. He could relate to that. There were plenty of days that he spent wishing Dallas would just fall the fuck asleep when it was just he and her. That was one thing he didn’t miss about parenthood: the energy required at all times. “You can relax now.”

                    QUINN had always been fiery, she knew that much. Her habit of running her mouth had consistently been the cause of her teenage troubles, and as much as she’d learned to control it in her time in the military, there were still times that that that part of her personality reared its head - right now in some sort of defense mechanism that left her unsure what she was trying to protect. “I’m not the one who walked away.” She answered, her tone harsh, the shrug in her shoulders attempting to leave the ball in his court - until he spoke again. 

                      “Do you really wanna get into this right now?” Quinn asked, a frown crossing her face. “I’ve gotta be the bad person to our four year daughter to make you feel better, yet it’s not about point scoring or competition? Get your head outta your fucking ass. While I’m at it, though, you want me to tell her about how many times you fucked me over? How your fucking abandonment issues go further back than just walkin’ out on your daughter? ‘Cause whilst you might have been here in person, you had no other fucking support for me whatsoever. So don’t dare start talkin’ to me about fucking anyone over.” 

                       Michael had broken her heart more than once, Quinn knew that to be true. She was sure that she’d shattered his in return - and whilst she knew that yelling at each other in his workplace probably wasn’t the best idea, she supposed the two of them were going to have to get it out of their system. “Don’t patronise me. How am I supposed to know whether or not you’re just going to up and leave again?”

It was strange to hear these issues raised so long after he had left this marriage in the dirt where it most clearly belonged. As far as Michael had been concerned, he had been as supportive as he possibly could be. Yes, he was a man of few words and, really, wasn’t a physically very affectionate person but, to him, just standing in the same room as someone was his way of offering support. He wondered, now, if that hadn’t been enough for Quinn. If that was why she had sought affection from elsewhere. He’d spent a lot of time wondering that in the last year.

"So, in your world, what would have rather I did?” he asked, shaking his head, his fingers curling around himself as he folded his ams over the ‘Red Velvet’ printed apron. “Stay? Forgive you for betraying me? Spend the next however many years of our lives dancing around what you did?” Everywhere he looked in this town, Quinn and his relationship was smudged over the streets. He couldn’t stay if he ever expected himself to move on from her.

Christian heard the voice and looked over in surprise, finding Michael coming closer. “Oh! Hi!” He laughed, tucking his keys away and leaning into his cane. He hadn’t expected Michael to show up while he was locking up. “What’re you doing over here?” He laughed.

He’d been debating taking a few plants home to nurse back to health, but that had certainly been before he had company. “…I did have a bit of a day.” He laughed. “I don’t drink any more, but I’ll happily join you at a bar and get myself a mocktail. Oh, if we go to a fancy place, they might have CBD-infused drinks.” He chuckled, moving towards him. 

“CBD-infused drinks?” Michael echoed, thinking for a moment about it before nodding. It wasn’t something that he had tried yet but, well, he trusted Christian’s taste and ability not to fuel him with anything  disgusting. “I’ll give it a go,” he said, pushing his hands into his pockets, beginning to move into an easy walk, nodding for Christian to follow. 

                      THIS had never been how Quinn had expected her afternoon to go. God, why couldn’t it have been Kira working that morning? Sure, Quinn had her own regrets; her own guilt over how their situation had transpired, but she could say with complete honesty that she’d never have walked out on her family. She rolled her eyes as he spoke, unable to dignify it with an answer, until his next question came. 

                        “Your girl?” Quinn began, arching an eyebrow. “Would that be the same four year old you left without a word of an explanation, the same four year old who couldn’t understand why her Dad never came home from work – why he missed a birthday, Christmas – why he never fucking called? That same girl? Yours? Fuck you.” She shook her head, something of a bitter laugh escaping her lips. Then again, it had been a year. So much had happened in that year with their daughter, and Quinn was eager to share her accomplishments - but perhaps, not just quite yet. “She’s fine. Great, actually. Getting ready to start school this year.”

The raise of voice wasn’t surprising, it wasn’t as if this was the first argument that he had ever had with Quinn and, yet, it still left him gripping the counter hard enough that his knuckles began to burn a white. It seemed Quinn forgot so quickly the time he had spent alone with their daughter, the time he had invested into her. Leaving wasn’t his proudest moment and, yes, there was a large part of him that regretted leaving without a word. “You ever thought for a second that I wasn’t trying to make it a competition. I wasn’t saying that... you know, because she’s mine that means she’s not yours, fuck sake, Quinn,” he shook his head, throwing his hands up into the air. “Well, I hope you told her that daddy wasn’t home for Christmas because mummy fucked him over, I hope you had that conversation with her,” he spat back, a bile raising him that he didn’t expect from himself. 

A six pack of beers on the coffee table and the opportunity to hang out with a friend after his return, Michael had summoned Caleb over to his place for a few beers and just company, ultimately. Opening up the door at the sound of Caleb’s arrival, he grinned, “hey!” and nodded for the other to follow him into the living room.

Ana nibbled on on her bottom lip as though she was thinking his suggestion over, in reality, she was teasing him. “I mean, I don’t think that would be all bad,” she smirked as she looked down at the delicious looking donuts. She listened to what he was saying as she bit into one, doing her best not to make too many obscene noises. “That, or we could do some sort of joint night because drunk people and these donuts? You’ll sell out faster than water in a desert,” she chuckled as she put the donut down again, shaking his hand properly, “So you’re also a handyman as well as a phenomenal baker?”

Noting the way the other woman all but moaned around the donuts, Michael bit back a slightly lewd comment that could land him in deep water. Quirking an eyebrow, he nodded. “Donuts and daiquiris or something, I like that,” he said, nodding at the thought of that potential business link.

In the strangest moments during his dabble with fatherhood, Michael had found himself in situations ranging from potential fire hazards to almost dropping his daughter down flights of stairs or finding her licking ketchup out of the carpet. He wouldn’t say he was good at parenting by any meaning of the word which was why he had been very relieved to find a confidant in Kenzie.

A mother with far more children and far more experience (and natural maternal instincts he presumed also) was his saving grace and, well, it seemed wrong not to notify her and thank her with a smoothie of some kind when he returned to town.

Watching with interest as Christian locked up the florist for the day from across the street, Michael had trusted one of his own employees to lock up this evening in a bit to ambush Christian and lure him into an evening of just hanging out. “Hey!” he called, jogging across the road, waving. “Fancy seeing you here,” he teased.

Ana was ready to let rip on the person who didn’t actually decide to leave when she had issued her warning. But then she heard the man’s voice and his reason for being there, she lifted her head, her eyes moving from the box to his face. “Well, a man coming into my bar with donuts, can’t say that happens everyday,” she chucked despite herself, coming around so she could judge him a little, “Although I’m not going to complain, I don’t see how a bar could help you with your business.” She held out her hand then, “Morana Wallis, most people call me Ana though.”

“We can all help each other out from time to time, right?” he grinned, moving further into the bar and placed the box of glazed donuts with a variety of sprinkles and toppings onto one of the tables. 

                  QUINN wasn’t entirely sure whether she wanted to hug him or kick him. Not that the latter wouldn’t throw her completely off balance, but she wondered whether or not that would be worth it. She huffed a short laugh at his words, “You planned, huh? Another one of those plans that just never comes to fruition, right? Wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary,” Quinn muttered, shaking her head softly. Of all the times he could have appeared, it had to be now. A year later, when her entire family were back together in town, when it felt like she was just starting to get her shit together, “You know, I’m not even gonna ask what you think would have been the right damn time. You’re here now so we’re just gonna have to deal with it, huh?”

It was one thing to willing to step into a situation where he would be met with Quinn’s biting words but it was another entirely to be ambushed in this way. The bakery had become his save haven and, already, she had managed to infiltrate it and turn it sour in his mind. Waiting for to finish, his lips formed a thin line. “Yeah, I guess you are going to have to deal with it,” he echoed, hanging his head for a moment before he glanced up.