As we sat in Sweet Forty-Two, in La Jolla, California, I found myself smiling. And not just from the permanent sugar high Georgia had me on.
“It’s really not. It would be weird to me if you wallowed around all pale and mopey. Rae would think Georgia was a riot, which she is.”
Regan swallowed hard. “It’s been almost a year. Sometimes it feels like years ago, and sometimes it feels like we’re still sitting on the floor of that hospital, doesn’t it?”
My heart raced as I nodded my agreement. My sister had been gone for eleven months and four days. She and Regan had only been together for about two months, but he felt more like a brother to me than anyone else. I was glad when he decided to return to the US and maintain our friendship after his post-funeral hiatus from reality.
“It’s bizarre. Do you still dream about her?” Admittedly, I’d been jealous when Regan was having frequent dreams about Rae. I didn’t want to wake up screaming like he sometimes had, but I hadn’t really dreamt about her at all—maybe one or two times—and I just wanted to see her once in a while. Hear her the way he could in his dreams.
“Sometimes,” he conceded. “Less now than a few months ago, though.”
I sighed. “Ember and her parents would ask if she ever said anything specific to you. You know, like it’s actually her visiting you in your dreams.”
Regan grinned. “Are you going to ask me that?”
I picked up a chocolate chip cookie and took a bite. “No. Not today, anyway.”
“Can we talk about you asking the love of your life to spend the rest of it with you?”
“Argh,” I groaned. “I’m a mess. I can verbalize awesome variations of my feelings to her on a whim. But, planned? Planned I just sound like some underprepared candidate.”
“Have you called Monica?”
Oops.
Regan’s eyes grew wide. “You haven’t called Monica?”
“Who’s Monica?” Georgia shouted from the kitchen as she slid a baking sheet into the oven.
“Ember’s best friend. Like best friend.” Regan darted his eyes between me and Georgia. “I only know that because of how Ember’s droned on and on all summer about how I am really great to talk to, but she needs her best girlfriend. Not that I don’t love listening to your girl, Bo, but damn can Monica talk. Is there a way to get her out here?”
I chuckled as Regan went off on his tangent. Regan and Ember had a great relationship that I was grateful for for both of their sakes.
Georgia walked into the cafe area, wiping her hands on her apron. “You dumb sack of shit. You haven’t talked to her best friend? Whatever you do, don’t tell her you already talked about this with someone else. She’ll be offended.”
“She will,” Regan agreed. “I only know this because Ember, at one point, regaled the story of Josh and Monica’s engagement to me, and mentioned not-so-kiddingly that she forgave Josh for not cluing her in.”
Georgia snapped her fingers. “Both of you can it. Here comes Ember now.” She tilted her head toward the door just as the sound of bells rang through the bakery.
“There you guys are!” Ember sounded breathless. “Anyone ever hear of answering their cell phones? Fuck!” She sat next to me, planting a chaste kiss on my cheek.
I grabbed her face and kissed her long and hard on the lips. I loved the little noise she made deep in her throat when I caught her off guard. “Hey you.”
“Hey. Sorry for being all stormy there. I’ve just spent far too much fucking time with my mother today. Who doesn’t like it when I swear. Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.” Ember snatched a cookie off the plate and took half of it in one bite.
“Feel better?” Georgia quipped.
“Yes,” Ember mumbled with a mouthful and pointed to the half cookie still in her hand. “Can we get some of these in our next order?”
Georgia nodded with a smile. “Your boyfriend already made sure of it.”
By the time the summer tour with The Six started, Sweet Forty-Two was cranking in the orders. Georgia was flat out from the time she woke up at 4:00am until the door was locked at 6:00 in the evening. Before the tour had started, Regan lent a hand in the kitchen whenever he could. Once we left, though, she was on her own.
She sent us care packages every few days, whenever we got to a new location. Also, she closed the bakery on Wednesdays and Thursdays so she could catch up with us wherever we were. When we started the northern leg of our tour, it would be a little too far to drive, though.
“Will you be able to visit us at all during the next half of our tour?” Ember finished the cookie and looked to Georgia.
Georgia shrugged. “Depends. Are you guys going to be in Napa or Sonoma?”
“Both. I made sure we were booked there for extended dates,” Ember said as if the decision was business-based and not grape-based.