Taste of Romance (11 page)

“The first batch of cupcakes for the wedding,” Kim mused.

“Grandpa, did you have a cupcake party?” Rachel asked.

He wavered on his feet, and Rachel reached out to steady him.

“I made lots of friends,” he told her and smiled, as if loopy. “They helped carry
some of the boxes.”

Kim frowned. “Rachel, I don’t think he’s feeling good.”

“He looks pale,” said the head nurse. “Let’s sit him down.”

However, before he could sit, Grandpa Lewy collapsed, and they had to call the hospital
for an ambulance.

“H
E’S OKAY,”
R
ACHEL
assured them, returning to the shop a few hours later. “They hooked him up with an
IV and are running tests.”

“Maybe you should take him a triple-chocolate cupcake to cheer him up,” Andi teased.
“Might make him feel better.”

“He didn’t know what he was doing,” Rachel said, shaking her head.

“It’s okay,” Kim assured her. “We can’t blame him for loving our cupcakes.”

“No, we can’t blame
anyone
,” Andi agreed and nodded toward the door. “Looks like you have a special delivery,
Kim.”

Kim turned and met Nathaniel’s troubled, blue-eyed gaze.

“I came to say I’m sorry about last night,” he said, handing her a large bouquet of
bright red, heavenly scented roses. “I promise you, I didn’t take the doll or any
of the cupcakes. I’m not your thief.”

“We know,” Rachel assured him. “It was my grandfather.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your brother’s wedding,” Kim told him.

Nathaniel smiled. “You didn’t ruin it, you made it memorable. After you left, my brother
and his bride looked at each other, realized their love for each other had nothing
to do with cupcakes, and started laughing.”

“They aren’t going to sue?” Andi asked, her face filled with hope.

“No one is going to sue,” he assured them and set a piece of paper on the counter.
“And here is a check to cover the cost of the cupcakes.”

Kim shook her head. “We can’t accept this—not after what I did.”

“The money is to help save the shop,” Nathaniel told them. “My new sister-in-law agrees
with you. She would have smashed cupcakes herself if she’d lost
her
ring in the batter. But you didn’t smash all of them. There were plenty of cupcakes
left for everyone to enjoy.”

“Thank you,” Andi said, taking the check. “But I’m afraid we’re going to need a lot
more than this to buy the building.”

“Every bit helps,
ja?”
he asked.

Kim nodded, and Nathaniel took both her hands and squeezed her fingers. “I also came
to say goodbye.”

Kim was afraid of that. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“I would if I could,” Kim assured him. “But I—I can’t.”

“I’ll call you,” he promised.

Kim nodded, her stomach so tight she wondered if she’d have to make another trip to
the bushes. “Send me a postcard.”

He looked at her with an expression so intense she could barely breathe. “Goodbye,
Kimberly.”

Her eyes stung, and her entire body went rigid with dread at the thought of being
left behind again.
Please don’t go.
She wanted to scream the words at the top of her lungs but didn’t. How could she?
What right did she have to even ask? She couldn’t tie him down like his previous girlfriend
had tried to do.

He couldn’t stay. And she couldn’t go. Once again, it seemed history was repeating
itself, only with different players.

“Goodbye,” she said, her voice choked, and then, all at once she flung herself into
his arms, pressed her body to his, and squeezed him as hard as she could.

His arms wrapped around her, and his head dropped down over her shoulder, as if the
moment was killing him, too. Then he released her, gave her a parting grin . . . and
was gone.

T
HE SPECIAL
“S
AVE
the Shop” sale brought in a crowd. Kim suspected that Jake’s newspaper story in the
Astoria Sun
titled “Identity of Cupcake Bandit Revealed: Grandpa with Alzheimer’s Has Craving
for Cupcakes” had something to do with it.

Andi and Jake decided to forgo their honeymoon and sell the Hawaii vacation tickets
they’d coveted for so long.

“I’ll get to Hawaii someday,” Andi said, her face full of determination. “But buying
the building to save Creative Cupcakes is more important.”

Rachel put her jewelry box into the auction, swung her red curls over her shoulder,
and told them, “Looks aren’t everything.”

Andi gasped. “I can’t believe you, of all people, said that, Miss I Won’t Leave the
House without My Makeup.”

“Mike tells me I’m beautiful every day,” Rachel assured her. “That’s all I need.”

Mike had offered to sell off a prized miniature set model he’d worked on for a canceled
TV series, and Kim decided to auction off all the paintings adorning the walls of
the cupcake shop.

“Won’t you need them to open the art gallery with your friends?” Andi asked.

“I’ve found I like decorating cupcakes as much as I like painting,” she told her.
“And by staying with Creative Cupcakes, I can do both. Besides, we’re a
team.
” She glanced at Meredith and narrowed her eyes. “Except for that one.”

Walking over to the hawk-eyed, teenage redhead, she arched a brow and announced, “Meredith,
you’re fired.”

The girl scrunched up her nose in disgust. “You can’t fire me. Andi, tell her how
valuable I am.”

Andi shook her head. “Kim is co-owner of this shop, and if she says you’re fired,
then you’re fired.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Andi continued. “Kim has a right to make her own decisions.”

“So do I,” Guy said. He walked over to Andi and handed her a check for $20,000. “I
decided I don’t need a Harley after all. My wild days on the motorcycle are behind
me, and it’s never helped me pick up chicks.”

The Romance Writers group who met in the shop on Tuesdays also brought in a donation,
as did the parents of all the children involved in the kids’ cupcake camp that Andi
had started as an afternoon program. The dateless women who commiserated with each
other at the Saturday Night Cupcake Club and friends from the local police station
also gave money.

“Can’t have our favorite cupcake shop go out of business,” Officer Ian Lockwell told
them.

“No, we can’t,” William Burke agreed.

Kim jumped back with a jolt of surprise. She hadn’t seen her father drift in with
the crowd.

“Dad!” Andi exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Kim watched her father fiddle with his wallet, turning it over in his hand, while
looking around at the shop filled with people.

Finally, he cleared his throat and looked right at her, his eyes moist. “Your mother
loved to dream.
My
dream was to keep you all safe, even if that meant talking you out of things you
wanted to do from time to time. I tried to steer you toward what I thought was best.
I was wrong when I tried to discourage you from opening the cupcake shop. You’ve worked
hard for this, and . . . I’m proud of you.” He shifted his gaze to Andi. “I’m proud
of
all
of you.”

“So am I,” Rachel’s mother said, drawing near. “You’ve all inspired me to pursue my
own dream. Since I took out the old Singer sewing machine to alter Rachel’s wedding
dress, I decided I liked it so much I want to open a bridal shop!”

“That’s wonderful,” Andi said, her voice excited. “Maybe you can work on my wedding
dress, too.”

“And mine,” Kim said and blushed. “I didn’t mean a wedding dress for me, but a bridesmaid
dress. I’ll need two of them, one for each wedding.”

Kim thought she saw a glimmer of warmth pass through her father’s eyes as he looked
at Rachel’s mom. But Sarah Donovan locked her gaze on Guy, who stepped forward, took
her hand, and drew her away with a bigger grin on his face than Kim had ever seen.

“Do you have enough money to buy the shop?” Kim’s father asked, turning his attention
back to them.

Kim looked at Andi, who hesitated, then shook her head.

“We’re still short.”

“I’ll make up the difference,” he told them, “and you can repay me when you can.”

Kim looked at her sister. “We can buy the building!”

“I—I don’t know what to say, Dad,” Andi said, tears welling in her eyes. “Except—thank
you.”

He took a step closer and draped an arm across each of their shoulders in what Kim
thought he meant as a hug. This was a huge step for a man who had nearly strained
their relationship beyond repair.

“Yes,” Kim said and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Dream big,” he told them. “And make Creative Cupcakes a success.”

A
FTER SIGNING THE
papers transferring ownership of the building into their names the following morning,
Kim, Andi, and Rachel took one of their biggest chocolate chip cupcakes with chocolate
butter cream frosting to the hospital for Grandpa Lewy.

“The doctors said they may have misdiagnosed your grandfather,” Bernice told them,
her hand intertwined with Rachel’s grandfather’s. “He has a severe bladder infection,
which often produces the same characteristics of Alzheimer’s. They say it must have
been building in his system for several months.”

Rachel’s mouth popped open. “Do you mean he can get better?”

“What do you mean, ‘get better’?” he asked. “What’s wrong with me now?”

“You’ve been hiding our cupcakes in your memory box and taking them out of our store,”
Rachel told him. “We lost a lot of money.”

Grandpa Lewy opened the memory box covered with photos of Rachel and her parents,
and some older ones of the time he spent as a young man with Bernice. “You mean this
money?”

Everyone in the room drew in their breath as they all stared at the assortment of
fives, tens, and twenties.

“I didn’t eat all of the cupcakes,” Grandpa Lewy said and chuckled. “I sold some for
you at the festival and at the center. The nurses there won’t let us have any sweets.
I knew if the head nurse caught me, I’d be in trouble, but . . . the sweetest things
in life are worth the risk.”

His words pierced Kim’s heart, and she thought of Nathaniel. He was probably already
at the airport, waiting to board his plane, which would leave in three hours.

“Grandpa Lewy is right,” Kim said, her heart leaping. “Sometimes the sweetest things
are
worth a little risk.”

As if reading her mind, Rachel asked, “How many roses did Nathaniel bring you in that
last bouquet?”

“Thirty-six.”

“That means, ‘
I will remember our romantic moments,’”
Rachel interpreted.

“I don’t want to just remember them,” Kim said. “I want to
live
them.”

“Do you need a ride to the airport?” Andi asked, a smile hovering on the edge of her
lips.

Kim thought her insides would cave in and collapse into a muddled heap at the bottom
of her stomach. “I gave all the money I’d saved for the art gallery and all the profits
from my paintings to help buy the building for Creative Cupcakes. I don’t have money
for a ticket.”

“Use
this
,” Rachel said, handing her the money from Grandpa Lewy’s memory box.

“Are you sure?” Kim asked, staring at what looked to be close to $2,000.

“The cupcake shop is safe, thanks to your contributions,” Andi told her. “Do you have
your passport?”

All at once the world seemed to spin, leaving her breathless and excited all at the
same time.

“Yes, my passport is always with me, always in my pocket next to my wings pin,” she
said, pulling it out and flapping the booklet in the air. “Ready to fly!”

Chapter Ten

Real love stories never have endings.

—Richard Bach

“H
OW CAN
I get to the airport in time?” Kim asked, as they stood by the waterfront outside
the Astoria hospital. She closed her cell phone. “The cab company says they can’t
get here for another fifteen minutes.”

Andi shook her head. “Jake’s busy working at the office, and he took my car.”

“Mike’s meeting a movie producer interested in hiring him to build set models,” Rachel
added. “He said he wouldn’t be able to pick us back up for another hour, and my mother’s
car is in the repair shop.”

“And I don’t have a car,” Kim said, searching her brain for an answer.

“We have the Cupcake Mobile,” Andi suggested.

“But you can’t drive with your sprained foot, and Rachel and I can’t drive a stick
shift,” Kim told her. “What about our new recruits? Aren’t any of them at the shop?”

Andi shook her head. “Only Heather, who is babysitting Mia and Taylor, and she doesn’t
have her driver’s license.”

“What about Guy?” Rachel suggested. “He just got his license back, and he’s the one
who sold us the Cupcake Mobile in the first place.”

Kim punched his number into her cell phone. “Guy, if you aren’t in the middle of giving
someone a tattoo I could really use your help.”

F
IVE MINUTES LATER
the Cupcake Mobile rattled around the corner to pick them up.

“No problems?” Kim asked. “Heather found the keys?”

Guy hesitated. “Yeah, but I have to warn you. I haven’t driven an enclosed vehicle
in over twenty years. I may be a little rusty.”

Rusty
was an understatement. The Cupcake Mobile lurched forward and backward every time
Guy had to shift or use the clutch. Kim gripped the seat in front of her on either
side, squeezed her eyes shut, and took a deep breath. Flying couldn’t be any harder
than surviving this ride.

Glancing at her watch, she marked another minute had passed since the last time she
looked at it.

“Can’t this truck go any faster?” she asked.

“Sorry,” Guy told her. “The thing’s an antique. She can only handle fifty-five miles
an hour without falling apart.”

After a two-hour ride, the clinking, clattering Cupcake Mobile pulled up to the drop-off
curb with only forty-five minutes to spare.