and pulls me into him, giving me one of those patented Nick Velez kisses, the kind that makes me forget I’m in a cramped café kitchen.
That is, until Tobin clears his throat.
We break apart from each other and turn to see him standing at the grill, staring at us, disgust written all over his face. “Not okay, dudes,” he says.
Now that we’ve expanded what we offer and increased our business, we’ve hired several new employees, making Tobin a senior member of the staff, and apparently all this authority has gone to his head.
“You guys have to stop that,” he mutters as smoke billows behind him. “It’s unsanitary as hell.”
“Tobin!” I shout. “Flip that burger! It’s burning!”
He turns back to the grill and flips it with nonchalance even as smoke wafts in his face.
“Remind me again why we put Tobin on the grill?” I ask Nick in a low voice.
“Because,” Nick says. “This way at least he doesn’t drop the plates.”
He hands me the salad. “Order up, boss. Oh, wait, don’t forget the pie.”
I give him another quick kiss before heading back out into the café. But as I step through the door, I stop for a moment to take it all in. The brightly painted chairs. The floral artwork on the walls. The Christopher Cross playing over the speakers. The spicy, appetizing smell in the air. The tables full of loyal customers and friends who feel like family.
Even though I dreamed about opening a bakery for years, not a restaurant, it turns out this is even better than what I imagined. I get to feed people every day, get to take care of them, but in a way that serves me. And although I did end up finally earning my degree, I didn’t even need it to open the Butterfly; it turns out that all I really needed was my years of experience and the willingness to take a chance on myself and believe that I had a good idea. And now, all of this is mine.
Well, it’s not just mine, and that makes it so much better. It belongs to me and Nick, because I have someone to help me now. Someone to support me, someone to show up in the waiting room, someone to take care of me when I’m sick. Someone to be there.
I don’t have to handle things by myself anymore. Now, I have Milo and Fred here to check on Dad, to spend time with him, to attend bingo night. And when I visit him, Nick comes, too, and he never ever flinches at how painful it is, how much it sucks that Dad’s forgetting so much and changing every day. Sometimes, I even have a longer-than-five-minutes cry in the car with Nick, and he doesn’t have to say anything to make it better, because nothing ever could. He’s just there, and that’s enough.
“Hey.” Nick opens the door. “You doing okay out here?”
I turn and smile at him.
“You’re doing the thing again,” he says. “Where you stare at me and smile.”
“Hmmm, am I?” I spin around and walk through my café.
As I place the salad and slice of pie on Annie and Drew’s table and Nora pelts me with a fistful of crayons, I look over my shoulder. Nick is still standing there, staring at me, smiling, just like I knew he would be.
And as I smile back, I can’t think of any place I’d rather be.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As usual, I find myself deeply afraid that I’ll forget to thank someone who had a crucial role in shaping this book, so please accept this as a blanket thank-you to everyone I’ve ever met, but especially the following people.
I’m so lucky to have Stephen Barbara as my agent. Thank you for being a voice of reason and helping my books find their perfect homes.
I’m still pinching myself that I get to work with Cindy Hwang, editor extraordinaire, who always knows exactly how to make my books better (and who, instead of asking me to avoid writing about bodily fluids so much, actually offers suggestions on how to make said discussions even more disgusting).
I’m grateful every day for the Berkley team, including Diana Franco, Tara O’Connor, Angela Kim, Jessica Brock, Fareeda Bullert, Brittanie Black, Elisha Katz, and all the people I haven’t met who work so hard on my books. I appreciate everything you do.
Infinite thank-yous to Farjana Yasmin for designing yet another beautiful, perfect, eye-catching cover. I can’t even believe I’m lucky enough to have it on my book.
One of the biggest joys of the past year has been visiting independent bookstores both near and far. Thank you to the stores that have hosted me, and thank you to the stores I haven’t yet visited but who have championed my books, put them on display, and hand sold them to customers. I already loved bookstores as a reader, but as a writer I can truly see how much care and love you put into your jobs. Special thanks to Joseph-Beth Booksellers for the support and also the life-size Tom Hanks.
I wrote and revised a large part of this book at Columbus Metropolitan Library branches, and I’m incredibly grateful to have an extraordinary library system in my city.
Giant, heart-shaped thank-you GIFs to the bookstagrammers and bloggers who post about my books. It is such a joy to hear from you.
Thank you to librarians everywhere for supporting my books and also books in general.
The biggest possible thank-you to Lauren Dlugosz Rochford and Emily Adrian for reading early drafts of this book, giving me invaluable feedback, and pointing out when I used the same word fifteen times on one page (a slight exaggeration, but only slight).
Thank you to Tess Malone for taking the time to read this book, even though it was on a computer, and giving me such immensely helpful feedback.
As always, thank you to my weird, wonderful family, especially to Mama Winfrey, the one who takes care of everyone else.
To my readers: I’m so glad you read my books, recommend them to others, and buy copies for your moms/sisters/grandmas/etc. I very literally couldn’t do this without you and I’m grateful that you care about these characters.
Thank you to Hollis for taking time off work whenever I need to get on a plane and visit a bookstore or go to the library and stare at a computer. People frequently ask how I get work done as a stay-at-home parent, and here’s how: I have a supportive partner who shows up and values my career.
To Harry, who always wants to look for my books when we visit the library: I love your curiosity, your imagination, and the fact that you’re downstairs screaming as I write this. You make everything better.
And to anyone out there who cares for anyone else—a child or a parent, for family or for work, in any capacity—thank you for doing such hard, important, and undervalued work.
Photo by Alex Winfrey
Kerry Winfrey writes romantic comedies for adults and teens. She is the author of Love and Other Alien Experiences, Things Jolie Needs to Do Before She Bites It, and Waiting for Tom Hanks. When she’s not writing, she’s likely baking yet another pie or watching far too many romantic comedies. She lives with her husband, son, and dog in the middle of Ohio.
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CONNECT ONLINE
@KerryAnn
@KerryWinfrey
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