I blink. “What?”
“You just wrote something murderous next to the cake section.”
I look down.
Beside cake, I have written: ask Whiskey about donation records.
Excellent.
Very bridal.
“I’m multitasking,” I say.
Lottie looks at me for one second too long. She is smarter than people give her credit for, mostly because she likes being underestimated and because a woman can learn a lot if men think she is only listening for gossip.
“Mm-hmm,” she says. “Well, multitask this. Cornbread wants to know if jalapeño cornbread is too spicy for a wedding.”
From the kitchen, Cornbread lifts one huge hand above the pass-through window. “It ain’t too spicy. It’s got personality.”
Becki points a pickle at him. “Your cornbread should not have more personality than half the guests.”
Cornbread frowns from behind a stack of skillets. “That sounds like an insult to the guests.”
“It was.”
Janie leans over her ribbons. “I vote regular cornbread and jalapeño cornbread. Give people choices.”
Royal’s voice drifts from the old cell door. “Choice is a lovely illusion.”
Everyone looks at him.
Becki narrows her eyes. “Royal, I swear to God, if you turn my pickle craving into a poem about free will, I will stab you with a cake fork.”
His smile is slow, private, and entirely too pleased. “You are radiant when threatening me.”
“I’m pregnant and nauseous. That ain’t the same as radiant.”
“To me, it is.”
She glares.
He looks like he loves her more for it.
Cider watches them with her head tilted, a faint crease between her brows. There are moments when she seems almost here, when humor reaches her a beat late and she smiles like a person remembering how. Other moments, she drifts somewhere none of us can follow.
I wonder if anyone made her sit at a table and plan something beautiful while ugliness waited in the walls.
I wonder how many missing girls stopped remembering how to laugh.
My pen tightens in my hand.
The front door opens, and Legend walks in with Derby behind him.
Amelia comes in next.
The room changes.
Not loudly. Not dramatically. But every woman notices before every man does. That is usually how it works.