“Some people around here blame him for an accident that happened.”
“Oh.” I look at the people, who are still whispering fiercely to themselves as they watch the taillights of Ethan’s truck get smaller in the distance.
“I say the man has done his time and they need to leave him alone. He paid for it.”
“Time?” I am thoroughly confused now.
Shy glares at me. “I thought you said you know him.”
“I do. Well, I did. A long time ago.” I unload my purchases.
He picks up the box of cake mix. “Somebody got a birthday?” he asks, like he’s ready to change the subject.
“Yeah, that jackass that just walked out of here.”
Shy’s face softens. “This is for Ethan?”
I nod as heat creeps up my cheeks.
“Then you’re all right in my book, Abigail,” he says. “You can come back here anytime.”
He picks up the shirt and reads it. “He takes that stupid duck everywhere.” He rolls his eyes. “I think it’s good he’s got something to love. Nobody deserves love more than Ethan.” He heaves a sigh and puts the candles in the bag without ringing them up. “They’re on me,” he explains. “Since it’s his birthday.” He grins at me as he hands me my bag. His voice drops down to a whisper. “I have a feeling you’re going to be good for Ethan.”
“I’m only here for a short while,” I reply.
“And maybe he’ll be good for you,” he goes on as though I hadn’t spoken.
“It’s not like that,” I explain, shaking my head.
He chuckles, and it’s a throaty, full sound. “You turned about ten shades of red when he was messing with you,” he says. He looks toward where Ethan was parked. “I haven’t seen Ethan look that relaxed since he got back.”
“Ethan and I were friends many years ago,” I tell him. “Good friends. He might have even been my first kiss.” Heat creeps up my cheeks again.
“Make that eleven shades of pink, Abigail,” Shy says. “Must have been some kiss.”
I smile at him. “Oh, it was.” It was honest and it was real and it was with the right boy.
He looks at me, his gaze intent. “Be patient with him, Abigail. He’s been through a lot.” He taps the counter with his fingertips to let me know he’s done with me. “I’ll be seeing you again sometime,” he says. He winks at me. “I hope.”
I grin at him as I leave, and he turns, stony-faced, to help the couple that ruined Ethan’s good mood. Gone is happy, carefree Shy. Now he’s a man who wants nothing more than for them to make their purchases and get out of his store.
I drive back to the cabin and go searching under the cabinet for Gran’s old cake pan, and I finally find it shoved way at the back. I pull it out, and I start mixing the cake. I don’t have a measuring cup or a mixer, so I have to do the best I can with what I have.
When I’m done, I have an absolute mess of a cake. I did pinch a little piece of it off to taste it, and it tastes like cake is supposed to taste. It’s sweet and it’s the right consistency, but it’s the ugliest cake I’ve ever seen. I iced it, and then I tried to write happy birthday in cursive on top of it, but my writing was sloppy, so it looks more like jagged swirls than words. Nevertheless, it’s his birthday and I’m taking it to him.
I pick up the cake, opting to leave it unwrapped and open to the air, and I walk down to where his tent is. But when I arrive, he’s not there. The campsite is empty. I look around, but he’s nowhere nearby. Then I hear it. I hear the little quacking sound, and I walk out to the main road, where he must be coming back from the lake. The little black and green duck waddles along behind him, and that’s the ruckus I heard. I grin as I watch him walk with the little duck running along at his heels.
“And here I thought I was your best friend,” I say. He freezes, his eyes darting toward the cake plate I’m holding aloft. I start to very softly sing the happy birthday song, and he grins. I can tell he’s trying to bite it back, but he can’t.
“How did you know?” he asks, wonder in his voice as he stares at the monstrosity of a cake.
“I