childhood.
“Somebody’s up early,” Micah said, flashing her a grin. He’d always been more of a morning person than she was. He’d bounce out of bed and be ready for school long before Mel managed to tug on whatever t-shirt and jeans she touched first. Her dad always teased that it was because Micah wanted to get to the food before anyone else.
Mel leaned against the metal counter. “Not by choice. I’m a bit of an insomniac these days.”
They stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the only noise the gentle suction of the bread dough as her brother worked it over and over.
“I walk in here and I expect to see Dad coming through the door, a smudge of flour on the side of his nose,” Mel said softly, Lord, but she missed him. During the summer when she was little, she used to wake up early just to come and sit on this counter to watch her daddy work his magic. The man could make anything taste delicious, but the things he could do with flour, sugar, and a piece of chocolate were amazing.
Micah grimaced. “Me, too. When I’m here alone, I keep waiting for him to grumble that I’m not using enough chocolate chips in the cookies or I didn’t put enough sugar in the fruit for the pastries.”
The terror she’d felt when she got the call that their dad had lung cancer haunted Mel’s dreams. As a doctor, she knew every procedure that would be done, every method that could be tried. As a daughter, she felt completely useless. She’d been alone when she got the call that her dad, the larger than life hero she’d worshipped, died of a heart attack on the operating table. That had been the first time in nine years she’d wished Caine were with her, to hold her. Andrew, her boyfriend at the time, had been very clinical about the whole thing, spouting medical statistics and telling her it was better that her father died before he ran up a huge medical bill trying to fight the cancer.
“It’s finally real. That he’s gone, I mean. Coming home, him not being here. It’s finally made it real.”
Micah, careful not to touch her with his floured hands, pulled her into a quick hug. As much as he looked like their dad, Micah even smelled like him now. A little salt, flour, sugar, and vanilla. Even a hint of chocolate. Warm and solid as the ovens he worked with all day.
Micah pulled back and changed the subject. “How’d your date go? Mom said the guy was a ‘very nice, young man’.”
“He was.” Ian was a sweet man. While he couldn’t be accused of being a deep thinker, he was amusing and interesting enough for her to consider a second date. “I had a nice time with him. I don’t think we’ll ever have a passionate love affair, but there’s enough there that I’ll probably see him again if he asks.”
“Are you happy here, Mel? Do you wish you’d stayed in North Carolina?” Expression serious, Micah began to separate the bread into smaller loaves.
Mel nodded. Even if she hadn’t gotten the call about their mom, she wouldn’t have stayed in North Carolina much longer. Her life there had been about school and learning to be a doctor so she could come back to Unknown and fulfill that promise she’d made so long ago. “I’ve missed being home. What about you? Don’t you miss being a fancy New York pastry chef?”
“Nah.” Micah winked. “I wouldn’t trade the chance to raise my son here for anything in the world. Jax needs his family around him. So do I.”
Micah refused to tell her the whole story, but Mel knew her nephew had been abused by his mother. Micah’s job and Jax’s mother had kept him from seeing his son very often, so Micah hadn’t known. By the time he found out and managed to get his son away, Jax had developed into a quiet, sullen little boy who only cared about video games and baseball.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” Mel grinned. “Especially since it means I have you just downstairs to make me all sorts of tasty treats.”
Micah kept kneading.