Coffee Cup Confessions - Trish Williford Page 0,11

deserves better than what she brings home. There’s no harm in reminding her of that.”

“No one is ever going to be good enough for your girls,” Mom points out.

“Fucking right,” he huffs.

“You’d totally want me to date your daughters if I were straight,” Drew assumes.

Dad and Ally both laugh at the same time.

“The only reason I’ve let you around my daughters all these years is because you’re gay.” Dad tells him.

“Not true. You all love me, and you know it.” Drew beams proudly.

“And things are starting to get pretty deep around here.” I gather the dishes from the table and join Bentley and Mandy in the kitchen, and it seems as if they’re past their spat.

Bentley is rinsing dishes, and Mandy is loading the dishwasher.

“Misha, now that you’re in here, I was thinking we should throw Mom and Dad an anniversary party. They’ll be married for forty years in May. Bent, do you think that Ally would be willing to help out since she’s an event coordinator?”

Bentley nods in agreement—something he and Mandy don’t do much of. “Of course. I think that would be awesome. I’ll have her put some feelers out for a venue.”

“Perfect.” Mandy squeals.

After the dishes are washed and the kitchen is cleaned, everyone is sitting around the dining room table, and a serious game of Uno is going down between Ally, Mom, Dad, and Drew.

I take my phone from my back pocket and find two text messages waiting on me.

Jake: Something came up on Friday night. I won’t be able to go out. How about late Saturday afternoon?

Jake: Unless I can pick you up now?

A smile instantly takes over my face. I forgot the feelings of excitement and butterflies when interested in someone new. It’s thrilling, and I really enjoy each flutter of my heart when I see his name pop up on my phone.

Jake and I have been texting daily since meeting on Valentine’s Day and have spoken on the phone a few times. He’s so easy to talk to, and there’s never a lull or any awkwardness in our conversations. I’m really looking forward to our date on Saturday.

Misha: Saturday afternoon is great. If I wasn’t at my parents’ house, I’d tell you to come over.

His response is instantaneous.

Jake: Should I come save you?

Misha: It’s not too bad now. If you had asked that question about a half hour ago, it would have been a different story.

Jake: Drama?

Misha: Only my sister.

Jake: We all have that one family member.

Misha: I can’t wait for Saturday.

Jake: Me too. Enjoy your family time. I’ll talk to you soon.

Misha: Good night.

I feel myself grinning like a fool, and it’s not until I look up from my phone that I realize the entire table is staring at me. “What?” I ask.

“Interesting conversation?” Bentley nods to my phone.

I slide my phone into my pocket and shrug my shoulders. “Um … no. It was—”

“It was Jake. I’ve been a witness to this look numerous times this week. The flushed cheeks and little giggle a minute ago gave it away.” Drew rats me out.

“Oh my God, were you sexting at the dining room table?” My mom fakes being offended.

“Mom, how do you even know what sexting is?” Mandy prods.

“I’m not ancient, you know. I watch Jersey Shore,” Mom states proudly. “GTL: gym, tan, laundry.”

Dad chuckles to himself, and Bentley puts his head in his hands and groans. “Jesus Christ, Mom.”

And thanks to my mother’s confession of being a Jersey Shore fan, I’m no longer the center of attention.

6

Jake

“There is no way there are ten layers inside this cake.”

Misha dropped off a cake to the coffeehouse for me last night. Since I was out with a client, I didn’t get her message that she’d left it for me until late. Last night’s loss is this morning’s gain because this cake is about to be my breakfast.

“There are, I promise. It’s what I call my lovers’ layer cake. This is a mini version of the cake, and I only sell it around Valentine’s Day. It’s big enough for a couple to share, and I put two chocolate-covered strawberries on top. I make the full cake version all year long, and I have a crazy amount of orders for it around Christmas.”

The fork easily slides through the icing and cake, and much to my surprise, there are multiple layers inside. Silently, I count each layer, and son of a bitch, she was right.

“Ten layers. How do you make the layers so thin?”

“It’s a secret. Now, try