Smash Cake: Chapter 2
“Is it open yet, daddy?” My four-year-old daughter leaned forward in her booster seat, impatiently tugging at the safety straps. “Why are they taking so long? The little hand is on the eight! You said that’s when they would open.” As she spoke, she pointed vigorously at the analog clock I wore on my wrist. She never allowed me to leave the house without it.
“But the big hand isn’t on the twelve so it’s not exactly eight o’clock yet, see?” I reached into the back seat so she could better check the time. “Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait a little longer.”
I could see her pouting through the rearview mirror. She even had her little arms crossed against her chest. Thankfully, she wasn’t kicking the back of my seat. She reserved that tactic for extreme tantrums which usually involved a missed ice cream opportunity. God forbid we drive by a Friendly’s…
“What did I tell you?” I said in my ‘dad voice.’
“That I have to be…” She paused and ran her tongue along her front teeth, something she did when she had a hard time pronouncing a word. “Pay… cent!” She articulated very carefully.
“Patient.” I agreed. “Because the cupcake faeries —”
“Ooo! Cupcake faeries!” She giggled excitedly. “Are they still working?”
I nodded. “Yes. They are working very, very hard to make all the yummy cupcakes. Which means if we go in there too early they’ll get scared and run away.”
“And then no more cupcakes?” She asked in horror. To a four-year-old, a world without cupcakes was as apocalyptic as you could get.
“Exactly. No more cupcakes.” I answered with a tone appropriate only for a funeral.
“Daddy! Daddy! Look! There’s someone inside! They are going to scare away the faeries and then no more cupcakes!” She wailed. This time she did kick the back of my seat in a desperate attempt to get me to do something about this horrific turn of events.
“Emma.” The firmness of my voice curbed her outburst.
She stopped. “B-But… D-Daddy… The lady is going to scare them away!”
“No, she won’t. That’s the baker.” I said noting the flour on her apron and what looked like frosting on her face. “The faeries are her friends.”
“Does that mean I can be friends with them too?”
“You’ll have to ask the baker,” I answered, voice trailing as I focused my gaze on the woman standing behind the glass door.
Wow.
She was gorgeous.
And, trust me, I’m not exaggerating here.
Even through the thick pane, her warm brown eyes locked with mine. Electricity shot through the air like a lightning bolt, raising goosebumps along my arms.
Could she feel it too?
All too soon, however, she broke the spell by looking away.
“Can we go in yet?” Emma asked, growing impatient.
Right on cue, the woman flipped the door sign.
A horde of people emerged from their cars and headed for the bakery. Quickly, I scrambled out of my seat and retrieved Emma from the back. Screw the cupcakes. I wanted the sweetest thing on the menu — her.
Emma clung to my hand as she skipped beside me, humming a happy little tune.
Once inside, she stopped, eyes nearly bugging out of her head in amazement. Suddenly, she wrenched free from my grasp and dashed up to the display case, cheek smashed against the glass. If I had to guess, she was probably drooling.
I was about to pry her away when I heard a chuckle. I looked up. It was her.
God, she was even more beautiful up close.
“Which one would you like, sweetheart?”
And a voice like honey too.
Emma contemplated her choices like it was the biggest decision of her life. Meanwhile, I couldn’t keep myself from staring. Usually, I’m not this rude and typically I know what’s socially acceptable and what’s not. But excuse my behavior just this once. It’s not everyday you find a girl who’s this damn pretty.
Long, caramel-colored hair that flowed down her back in a well-kept ponytail. Wispy curls framed her soft, round face, heightening her look of innocence. Large, hazel eyes that were round and full of compassion. Flawless skin save for some redness around her cheeks and a splattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose. But they were hardly flaws. In fact, I rather liked her imperfections.
Hands down, this was the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on.
Okay, now, all I had to do was summon the courage to talk to her…
Deep breath… okay… go!
But to my dismay, she was already busy with another customer. I watched as she danced behind the counter like a moth around a flame.
I hadn’t felt this drawn to something — to someone — in a very long time. Not since…
“I want that one!” Emma exclaimed so abruptly that the whole bakery came to a halting standstill. “That one.” She said again as she pointed to the specific cupcake that she wanted, decorating the glass display with her fingertips.
Before she could repeat her demand, I scooped her into my arms. As she squealed, I flipped her around and dangled her upside down for a moment before suddenly tossing her over my shoulder.
Like the little monkey she was, she quickly settled herself into a seated position, fingers tangled into my hair and tugging on it like one would the reins of a horse.
Suddenly, she leaned forward.
Instantly, my dad instincts kicked in. I grabbed her legs and held them tight so she wouldn’t fall.
“Thank you.” She cooed, snatching her desired cupcake from the beautiful baker.
“You’re welcome.” She answered with a smile. “Polite.” She commented now looking my way. “Yours?”
I nodded. “My pride and joy right here. Wouldn’t trade her for the world.”
“That’s sweet. How old is she?”
“I’m this many!” Emma interjected by shoving four of her fingers in the baker’s face.
“Four? Wow! That’s a lot!”
“Yeah…” Again, she swept her tongue along her teeth. “For…ah!”
“Four.” I corrected.
“That’s exciting.” The baker turned in my direction. “It certainly beats the terrible twos.”
“You can say that again.” I chuckled. “She starts school in the fall. I’m just trying to cherish the last few weeks of summer. I feel like one day I’m just going to blink and she’ll be all grown up.”
“Well, there’s an easy solution to that.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t blink.” She laughed at her own advice before motioning to an open stool. “Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll get you something to drink.” She paused to give me a second to think. “So, what’ll it be?”
“What do you have?”
“Coffee, tea, cider…”
“Coffee. Two sugars. Splash of milk.”
“Got it.” She said with a nod before walking away. As she did, all I could do was stare as her wide hips swayed from side to side. Damn. I wouldn’t mind getting a slice of that.
What? I’m a guy, okay? Our minds are always in the gutter whether you like it or not. And is it really that horrible to admire a beautiful woman?
“She’s pretty.” Emma took the words right out of my mouth.
“Very.” I agreed before finally sitting down at the counter. Carefully, I pulled Emma off my shoulders and sat her beside me. By the time I had finished cleaning the frosting from her face, the baker had returned with my coffee. Our eyes locked. Time seemed to stop.
Suddenly, Emma jabbed me with her elbow. “Daddy!”
I jumped, looking at her with concern. “What is it? Did something happen?”
“You didn’t say thank you!” She chided.
“Smart lady.” The baker grinned. “Where are your manners, mister?” She said as she wagged her finger at me.
“Yeah! Where are your manners, daddy?”
I raised my hands in defeat. “Alright, alright.” I turned toward the baker. “Thank you for the coffee.”
“That’s better.” She responded, grin deepening.
“So, with the fear of getting my manners reprimanded once more, let me introduce myself. I’m Dean and this is my daughter, Emma.” I said, patting her head.
She nodded vigorously. “Yup! I’m Emma!”
“Nice to meet you, Emma. I’m Ruby.”
“Like Dorothy’s slippers?” Emma asked with a cock of her head.
“Exactly like Dorothy’s slippers.”
“Does that mean you know the Wizard of Oz? Dorothy? The Scarecrow? Toto?” With each mention of a character, she grew more and more excited, eyes wide and bright.
“Sorry. Wizard of Oz is her favorite movie. The downfall is that I’ve watched it about a thousand times. The upside is that it makes buying a Halloween costume really easy.”
“I’m going to be Dorothy this year! I already have my ruby slippers! Daddy’s going to be the cowardly lion!”
Ruby giggled. “Is that so?” She asked, one eyebrow raised in question. “I might pay to see that.”
“Only for the night. Otherwise, I’m perfectly brave.” I countered with a wink.
Jeez, if there was an award for flirting, I’d be in dead last.
