Tinderella (9 page)

Letting herself in she was struck by the smell. It always smelled like home, even though it wasn't anymore. She walked quietly to the kitchen and there was her stepmother in all her caftan-ed and bejeweled glory.

"Cyndi, sweetheart, how are you?"

"Fine, Sarabeth, I'm fine, thank you. How are you?"

Her stepmother began a litany of her ailments, real and imagined while Cyndi moved to the guest suite to the right of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, am I in here?"

"Yes, yes dear. I always did like to keep you close to the kitchen," she chuckled.
 

Cyndi rolled her eyes so hard she was afraid they might really get stuck. Right, keep her by the kitchen, she wondered idly if there were cleaning rags waiting with her name on them.

It wasn't that bad, Sarabeth was clueless, not usually deliberately unkind, she was an opportunist but good grief.

"Well if I'm to be doing the baking, it will come in handy. Let me just get this stuff settled."

"Right, dear. Do you have anything else?"

She looked at the suitcase, the same one Bailey had wheeled into her hospital room. "No, actually this is exactly all I have, Sarabeth. And the car's a rental. Will it be okay in the carriage house?"

"Of course, it will. I'm so sorry darling, so sorry, maybe the girls will have something that fits you?"

Right, because she wanted hand me downs from those two. Right on cue the two whippet thin stepsisters made their entrance. They had their mother's gaudy taste, big hair, giant hoop earrings, tight spandex jeggings, long nails. And vapid as the day was long. The whippet thin thing was why she wouldn't be able to accept any hand me downs. Maybe if two outfits were sewn together, but otherwise, no.

"Hi," they said in unison and proceeded to air kiss
 

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm not uh...built like your girls. I'm all set, I have friends in the city looking out for clothes for me. In the meantime, I've made some lists. I'm going to be a baking machine for the next few days."

"I hate to ask for the help," her stepmother lied, of course she wanted basically free stuff for her party, but for Cyndi it was like therapy, so she ignored whatever the woman had to say and got on with things. Her stepmother kept talking in the background, every once in a while Cyndi added an um hmmm, just to keep herself in the game.
 

In her head she was planning her grocery trip and making lists of pans she'd need and in what order to bake.

She came out of her reverie just in time to hear her stepmother talking to her daughters about the guest list "and of course he said yes, but reluctantly, so let's make him feel welcome, shall we girls? You never know..." they all giggled at the prospect of netting some dimwitted well moneyed business-man and duping him into marriage. Cyndi sometimes felt sorry for Sarabeth, caged up with these two girls, husband shopping for them. But mostly not, reap what you sow and all that.

"Sarabeth, I'm going to go to the store and get supplies. I'll be back later and start baking tomorrow."

"Okay sweetie, let me know if you need anything, charge on the house account at the grocer," she waved her hand dismissively and with that she was gone, her dreadful daughters in tow.
 

Cyndi had taken the money her dad had left her and started her business, and invested the rest. It wasn't the most stable life, but ten minutes in the Leary Island Looney Bin with Sarabeth and the sisters and she was grateful all over again that she had been free to move on.
 

She wasn't going to last long here alone though, on the way to the store she placed a call to the Gooch. "Hey, you coming out tomorrow?"

"To what, help you cook? I can't bake."

"You can watch."

"That's boring."

"You can guard the kitchen to make sure the girls leave me alone."

"Can I mock their '80's hair, and glitter eyeshadow?"

"Don't we always?"

"I'm in. Be there by 10."

*******

As good as her word, at 10 the next morning, on the dot, Gooch walked in. The kitchen was cleared of breakfast and Cyndi was making herself at home. The two big advantages of working here were the size of the kitchen, with what seemed like an acre of counter space, and two sets of double ovens. And help. There was even staff to clear away the debris and let her just concentrate on baking.
 

The big advantage right now though, was that it was taking her mind off of everything else. The party was tomorrow afternoon and evening. Gooch had arrived with their dresses and make-up. She was staying in the same downstairs guest suite that Cyndi was. And now they were baking. Well, one of them was.

Cyndi had bags of flour on the counter, along with smaller bags of almond flour, several bottles of bourbon vanilla, some kind of exotic looking golden sugar, and various spices. She had bowls lined up like soldiers, and as she finished up with one, emptying it into loaf or cake pans, or dropping batter by spoonfuls onto trays, it would be whisked away and a clean one set on the far end to replace it.

Hours later she wiped her hands on her apron and declared herself finished. Instead of bowls and clouds of flour she was surrounded by piles of pastries on plates, towers of cookies, several frosted cakes, and delicate pastries containing fruits of every hue.

Cyndi was exhausted, and Gooch was tired from just watching her.

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" Gooch asked.

"Well, we have the morning to ourselves. The caterer will be here to take over the kitchen early, the party begins at noon, and we just have to resist the urge to bolt until it's polite to leave."

"I think we should stay, there are fireworks, right? Over the sound?"

"Yeah, that's one reason she invites everyone, so nobody complains to the cops."

"Smooth move. You got any beer in that big ass walk in fridge?"

"Yep, and a spare plate of cookies. Nothing says pre-gaming like a good amber ale and a chocolate chip cookie. Or two."

"Blech, that sounds awful, but I'm in, let's get this party started!"

Maneuvering through the bedroom door, Cyndi piled the goodies on the table in the sitting room of their suite.

Gooch reached for a beer and a cookie, "Isn't it weird, being home like this?"

"Yeah, in a way, but it's not my home anymore. I miss my dad, and you know mom's been gone a long time. I mean, I don't, you know, I'm not gonna say I don't like her, my stepmom but I don't really feel anything for her. He loved her, that's all that matters. She's not mean to me, she's just kind of, I don't know, a dope?"

"Well, I think you're amazing to do all this."

"Self-serving, it kept my mind off of," she waved her hands, "everything else. What a mess. I don't know what I'd have done without you."

"Oh, you'd have figured it out. So, who's coming tomorrow, anybody fun? Anyone interesting?"

"Nah, just old moneyed neighbors."
 

"Maybe we'll be surprised," said Gooch, ever the optimist.

****

The day had dawned overcast, but by noon it was sunny and warm, not hot, just comfortable. Cyndi was pretty sure her stepmother had it written somewhere in her pact with the Devil that there would never be any bad weather on party day. In more than a dozen years, she had never had so much as a drop of rain.
 

She and Gooch finished dressing in their finery, and did each other's make-up. Well, really Gooch did her own and then she did Cyndi's. They would smoke their eyes up later for the evening portion of the party.

As they drifted toward the back lawn, Cyndi paused to check on the presentation of her cookies and cakes. Everything was perfect, as usual, and she and Gooch grabbed mimosas and headed for chairs by the pool. Since it wasn't really her party, she felt like she didn't have to entertain too much and she and Gooch sat poolside for the majority of the afternoon.

Occasionally a waiter would come by and offer them a drink or a snack, but mostly they were left alone to people watch.

Suddenly Gooch grabbed Cyndi's arm.
 

"He's here."

"What do you mean, he's here."

"Pearce, he's here."

"How do you know."

"On Tinder, when I was you, remember? I saw his picture then. He is holy shit more handsome in person than in his picture. Look at those arms. And that ass, watch him walk, just for a second, wait...okay now, he's not looking."

"Neither am I. What the hell is he doing here?"

"I don't know, she must have invited him. Are those his parents, do you think? Looks like he's with his mom and dad maybe?"

"Of course he is. Sarabeth wants mates for her whiner-girls, that's what he's doing here. Well, they can have him."

"Seriously what is your problem. Did he not save your life? Haven't you at least sent him a thank you note."

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"Oh, for God's sake, he saved your damn life."

"But his dad is trying to ruin it. I think that kind of evens things out."

"It's nothing personal, you should have let him buy you out."

"I know," she sighed, "but I just didn't want to. And I definitely do not want to talk to him about it."

"That's too bad, because he's headed this way. If you'll excuse me I need to use the little girls room," she said with a wicked grin as she got up to leave. Pearce approached just as she was leaving and she offered him her chair, "Look, you can have company while I'm gone, please, have a seat. I'm Gooch."

"Thank you, I'm--"
 

"Pearce, I know who you are. Excuse me, I'll be back...later," she said, and winked at Cyndi.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi back. I, um, well thank you, I mean I didn't call because things have been crazy, but thanks for, you know, saving me."

"You're welcome, I'm glad you're ok, did you lose much?"

"Pretty much everything is sooty and gross, I'm staying with Gooch right now. Smoke damage, you know? The cleaners are going to be there and then I'll have to get all new furniture, and...well I can't even think about it right now. So, what brings you here?"

"My parents actually. Part of the annual get Pearsce hitched plan. And you?"

"Oh, she's my stepmom, I used to live here. Since I wasn't doing anything I came out here and baked a bunch of desserts for her. Kinda like cheap therapy."

"You did all this?" he asked, looking around.

"Only the baking, but yeah, I did that."

"You know I love your banana bread. I can't thank you enough for baking for me. Although if I'd known you were under 50 I never would have asked."

"What do you mean?"

"Well I imagined you as an older lady, I don't know, not someone who, well who's as beautiful as you are, and as young."

"Aren't you the silver tongued devil today?" she looked down, suddenly shy, "Anyway, I do owe you a thanks.."

"Oh God. You're welcome, I'm just glad I was there. That was pretty scary. I mean I knew you'd be okay, but...well, it was frightening. I'm glad to see you today. I wondered, later, what you meant to tell me that night."

"Oh, I, well, nothing. I mean, I was going to tell you why I couldn't see you anymore. But I guess you've figured that out on your own."

"I guessed it had something to do with the business and the buyout, but I wasn't sure."

"Yeah, mostly that. And it just felt weird to be in your apartment as not the cleaner. But mostly the other thing."

"I'd like you to re-consider, business is business but," he raised his eyes to meet hers, and covered her hand with his. She felt the same warm flame of attraction as before and, as she looked into his eyes, she felt like if she let herself she could see her future there.

But her business was all she had, she had started it, raised it, nurtured it, and she didn't want to let it go.

"I know you're conflicted. I can see it on your face, but you had a fire. You're not working right now, why not sell? What do you have to lose?"

"What do I have to lose? It's who I am. It's not just what I do. I built it, something you obviously don't get," she stood up so fast the chair nearly toppled over behind her. "Look, I'm really grateful for what you did, and I like you, I do, but this has put me in a bad spot, one you clearly don't understand. I think I need to mingle now, if you'll excuse me."

And with that she stalked off, leaving him staring after her.

The rest of the party was a blur, she made an effort to meet all of Sarabeth's guests, and at the same time to keep an eye out for Pearce and never be close enough for him to say anything.

Late in the evening, as they were preparing for fireworks, Sarabeth approached her with a nice looking couple in tow.
 

"Lucinda, honey, please meet the Clarks, Peter and Jane Clark, my stepdaughter Lucinda."

"It's nice to meet you, we've certainly heard plenty about you."