Susan Mallery - Falling for Gracie

Mac looked wary. “For real, or is this drama?”

Gracie placed a hand on her stomach. “I don’t know.”

“It’s drama,” Riley said and pulled out a chair. “A few chips and salsa will make you feel better.”

Gracie brightened. “I do like chips. They’re not dangerous.”

“Like bread?” he asked.

“Exactly.” She beamed at him. “You remembered.”

She sank into her seat. He and Mac exchanged a look that said “women-what can we do?” then they sat down as well.

“How’s it going?” Mac asked Riley.

“Okay. Poll numbers are down since the debate. Not a surprise. Zeke, my campaign manager, is coming up with some strategies.”

“I never liked the mayor,” Jill said with a sniff. “He’s so smarmy.” She shivered. “I want you to kick his butt. In the election,” she added when Mac raised his eyebrows. “Not literally, although I wouldn’t mind that either.”

“And here I thought you were sworn to uphold the law,” her husband said as he put his arm around her.

“No, honey. That’s you.”

They smiled at each other. Riley studied their easy exchange. When he’d first heard his old friend had taken the job as sheriff and remarried, he’d actually felt sorry for the guy. Who would want a life like that? But now, watching them together, he saw they had a connection. He wasn’t sure he believed in love, but if it existed, then Mac and Jill shared it.

“There’s something different,” Gracie said, leaning toward her friend. “What is it?”

Jill shrugged. “I can’t imagine.”

“No, there’s something. You’re…different.” Gracie tilted her head. “It’s not your hair. No highlights. Show me your teeth. Did you get them whitened?”

Jill laughed. “No.”

Riley narrowed his gaze. Gracie was right. Something had changed. Jill looked radiant.

Suddenly Gracie shrieked loud enough for nearby diners to turn in their direction.

“Are you?” she demanded as she clutched her friend’s hand. “You are. I can tell.”

Jill blushed, then nodded. “I just found out this morning. I never thought it would happen so fast. We just started trying, but yeah. I’m pregnant.”

“That is so great!”

Gracie flew out of her seat and rounded the table. Jill stood and they hugged. Riley leaned over to Mac and offered his hand.

“Congratulations,” he said.

“Thanks. We’re both happy.” Mac looked sheepish. “It’s a little fast. I thought we’d have a couple of months, but I guess we got it right the first time.”

Gracie and Jill returned to their seats. “Are you in shock?” Gracie asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Jill said. “I haven’t even bought any baby books.”

Riley watched the women. Was Gracie pregnant as well? They still had a few days until they would know. What would he think if she was? From his perspective, he doubted he would consider the idea “getting it right the first time.”

“Well, well, isn’t this something.”

Riley turned and saw two older women standing by their table. He started to rise, but the one with sausage curls put a surprisingly firm hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t get up. Not that I don’t appreciate the manners.”

Mac shifted uncomfortably. “Riley, I don’t think you’ve met Wilma. She runs the sheriff’s office.”

“Hi.” The shorter of the two women stared at him. “This is my friend, Eunice Baxter.”

“My neighbor,” Gracie whispered. “Hi, Ms. Baxter.”

“Hello, Gracie. My, my, don’t you young people look so nice out together?” Eunice squeezed his shoulder. “I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses, Riley. Gracie always did know how to love a man. When I think about all she did to get your attention, it does my heart good to see you with her now.”

He wasn’t sure what to say. “Um, yes, ma’am.”

Eunice giggled. “Such fine manners. I liked your mama so much. I’m sorry she’s not alive to see this. You’ve done her proud.”

“We should go,” Wilma said. “Have a nice dinner.”

The old ladies left. Gracie rubbed her temples.

“I warned you,” she said. “I said this was really, really bad, that people would see and talk about us.”

Jill patted her arm. “You’re legend, and you’re going to have to accept that.”

“Can I be something else, like a pillar? I’d be a great pillar.”

Mac grinned. “Maybe being seen with you will get Riley elected.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Gracie said. “If anything, I’ve probably cost him points.”

“I’m fine,” Riley told her. “I didn’t come this far to lose the election. Don’t worry.”

“I can’t help it. Worrying is like a sport with me.”

“Then worry tomorrow. Tonight we’re here to have fun. Can you do that?”

She nodded.

The waitress arrived and asked for their drink orders. He and Mac each wanted a beer, while Gracie and Jill selected iced tea.

The reality of the situation struck him. She wasn’t drinking. In fact the night they’d made love and played with champagne at the same time, she’d barely had any of the alcohol. He’d noticed her nearly full glass the next morning. He knew that Gracie normally didn’t mind drinking, so the change had to do with the fact that she might be pregnant.

He’d known in his head it might be possible, but until that moment, the news hadn’t sunk down to his gut.

What if she was? What would he do? Marry her?

He waited for the panic and frustration he’d felt when he’d had to marry Pam to swamp him, but there wasn’t any. He wasn’t even angry. So what the hell did that mean?

NEDA JACKSON TURNED out to be a bright, attractive woman in her mid-twenties with fabulous braids hanging halfway down her back. Gracie eyed them and wondered if she could pull off a similar look.

“Good to meet you,” Neda said as she walked into Gracie’s rental house. “I’ve been doing my research and I have to tell you that all your brides are very happy with your cakes. One of them even invited me by after the wedding. Her mom had saved me a piece.” Neda’s dark brown eyes widened with pleasure. “Delicious. I love how the cake tasted, and I’m not a big cake eater. So what do you put in it?”

Gracie laughed. “Sorry. House secret. I played with various cake recipes for over a year until I perfected the one I use. It’s a white cake recipe that I modify for chocolate or yellow cake.”

“What are you working on now?” Neda asked.

“Staying sane. It’s the busy season. I have at least three cakes to make every week for the next eleven weeks. Then it drops off to just two cakes a week. Some of the designs are simple and only take twenty or thirty hours. Some take double that.”

“But you work alone, don’t you? There aren’t that many hours in a day.”

Gracie nodded. “Tell me about it. I save a lot of time by making the decorations in batches. A lot of them can be made in advance.”

“And you do it yourself. That’s so great. I have to tell you, I’ve met some wedding cake makers who really cut corners. As much as these cakes cost, that makes me crazy.”

Gracie led the way into the dining room where hundreds of leaves and individual flowers sat on stacked trays.

Neda moved close. “What are these? Plastic flowers you buy at a craft store.”

“No. I made them. They’re edible.”

“You’re kidding.” Neda moved close and stared. “They’re icing. Even the leaves. You made the leaves? You don’t buy those?”

“I make each one by hand.”

Gracie led her back into the kitchen where she had a two-layer shower cake on the counter.

“How do you get the frosting so smooth?” Neda asked. “It’s beautiful.”

“The cake is frosted in buttercream icing. Over that I’ve placed rolled fondant. That’s what makes it so smooth. The sides are decorated with little dots in two sizes.” Gracie showed her how to apply them. “Roses circle the base of the two layers.”

She picked up a premade rose and gently set it into place. “The process isn’t that difficult, but it’s time consuming.”

Neda laughed. “Not to mention that you have to be able to design the cake in the first place and make all the decorations.”

“It helps.”

“I could never do that.” She set her notepad on a kitchen chair then dug in her bag for her digital camera. “Okay, let me take some general pictures, then I want to shoot you decorating this cake.”

“Sure.”

Gracie worked on the shower cake while Neda circled her and took pictures. There was a partially assembled wedding cake on the other counter and Gracie worked on that as well. As Neda took photos, she asked questions.

“Why wedding cakes?”

“I like making them. I enjoy the challenge of coming up with a new design. I like being a part of a couple’s special day.”

“Any disasters?”

Gracie sighed. “Someone dropped the top layer once. The bride’s brother had picked up the cake, which was in six boxes. I was going to assemble it later. I received a frantic phone call that the top layer, including the blown-glass antique ornament, had been destroyed.”

Neda stared at her. “What did you do?”

Gracie slipped three more roses in place. “I was making another cake for the following day and they were about the same size. I put a new top layer in the oven for bride number two and quickly changed the frosting on the one I already had. We still didn’t have an ornament, so I put a call in to the florist. By the time I arrived at the reception location, she had delivered five dozen miniature roses in the bride’s colors.”

Gracie shivered at the memory. “It was a three-layer cake with pillars in between, so everything was visible. I had less than an hour to make it all work. I pretty much pulled off most of my decorations, to make the bottom two layers more plain, then I cut the rose stems off and piled the buds on each layer. I used leftover petals to dress up the table and tacked a few decorations on the top layer. No one ever knew, except the immediate family.”