Standing By: A Knight's Tale #2 (2 page)

Without losing any time, I wipe the mess off the floor and return everything back to the cleaning closet. I wash my hands and then grab the second cake more carefully this time. As I walk through the doors, I can hear her asking the question.

“Why not a big wedding, Augustine?” I notice the vein in my father’s forehead start throbbing. “You have the money to grant Paige’s wishes.”

Patience, Hayley.

“Look, Mom, the wedding isn’t this weekend, it’s in two,” I sigh, resigned to talk to her about the wedding. This conversation is nothing new to them. First she talks about his money, asks him to increase her allowance, and when he refuses, the conversation turns ugly and finishes with his need for Viagra or his need to go to a retirement home. The latter doesn’t affect me; the blue pill comment isn’t something I want to know about—ever. A hidden code somewhere says a daughter shall never learn how her father performs. “For what I know, Paige wants a small affair. I think it is family only.”

“Now, can you two, please leave?” I look at the clock—it’s almost eleven. “This shop is my life, you’re welcome—”

“Good morning, Hayley,” the punctual Susan Darling arrives; today she is wearing one of her classic long black skirts with an ivory flouncy blouse. Her dark curly hair flows like a cascade and as usual, she smiles to everyone in the room. “Nice to see you, Hayley’s parents.”

They both answer and then proceed to remain quiet, something I appreciate. They make me want to hand them one of those lollipops I have for the children to keep them occupied before they get into each other’s throats—literally. Just last week I had to use the fire extinguisher to separate them.

I swear Mom tried to choke Dad after he said, “You know that saying: ‘
Forty is the new twenty
,’ is a lie; you’re still forty-six. No amount of Botox will take that away.” I don’t know what started that discussion.

I place the cake on top of the display case as I assemble the box to fit the cake.

“I like the butterflies on top of the calla lilies, nice touch,” she smiles at me. I placed a few lavender butterflies on top of the flowers cascading down one side. The cascade stops right where the pink ribbon that’s around the bottom tier starts. “Edible, I presume.”

“Of course,” I tape the edges of the box, grab my signature ribbon and tie the box. “All ready now; enjoy.”

“Thank you, Hayley.” She grabs the box, and as she’s about to turn around, she says. “I emailed you earlier; please send a confirmation and any questions about that order no later than today, please.”

“Will do, Mrs. Darling,” I smile and make a note on my calendar about it. “You have a wonderful day.”

“Family only?” Mom recaptures the conversation. “Because Bridget isn’t going, Hayley.”

I can’t believe she’s bringing up Bridget, Paige’s mother and Dad’s second wife. My stomach churns at the thought of them being friends. My jaw sets as she reminds me that she’s best friends with that nasty bitch.

“That’s what I know, why don’t you ask Paige then, Mom.”

“If things were different Hayley, you’d be the one walking down the aisle.”

Hayley

T
he tightness in
my body and the sinking feeling in my stomach appear as Mom begins to bombard me with different subjects. Wedding, my appearance and how I screwed up, therefore, not being the one walking down the aisle. I’m as confused as a chameleon inside a bag of M&M’s.

“When you say different,” I ask. “Do you mean; stop dating scumbags?”

Paige my stepsister, had her apartment redecorated and while the construction workers invaded her private space, she needed a place to stay. Back then, I lived in a two-bedroom apartment that my grandmother left me a couple of years ago when she died. It was located only a block away from Park Avenue, within walking distance of Central Park. Paige, my older sister—half-sister—asked nicely if she could stay with me for a couple of weeks.

“We can bond while my place is being renovated,” she said. ‘Bond,’ she used the key word for the desperate child who thrives to be close to her older sister.

This happened during the time I was dating Kevin, a stockbroker who I met at the bakery and asked me on a date several times until I caved. He was two inches shy from six feet; his brown hair was darker than mine and he was funny, all valid reasons to give it a try.

For the first few days, Paige innocently flirted with him using harmless and innocent lines. Like, “You look great in that suit.” “My sister better take care of you before someone snatches you.” Wait, that might have been the big yellow neon sign I ignored.

“I don’t think I can make it today,” Kevin called me one day, coughing on the other side of the phone. We had planned on going for an early dinner and maybe watch a movie at his place—without Paige lurking. “Rain check?”

“Do you want me to bring you chicken soup?” I asked not wanting to go back home so early and have to watch re-runs of ‘Project Runway’ with my sister. Paige, the fashion designer, loves to criticize each piece of clothing and explain to me in detail how she could design a better piece.

“No, I don’t want you to catch what I have.”

What a thoughtful guy!

“Well then, I guess I’ll unclutter the upstairs studio,” I tell him. “I was thinking about subletting it.”

We said goodbye and agreed to talk the next day. When I headed to the studio that’s above the bakery, I realized that I didn’t have the key to one of the locks. I pulled out my To-Do List and made a note to add it to my keychain and schedule the cleaning of the studio for the weekend. I locked the bakery, hailed a cab and headed to my apartment.

When I arrived at my building, the doorman greeted me and I took the stairs to the third floor wondering if I should’ve called Paige and asked her what she wanted for dinner. Neither one of us cooked, we usually took turns to order takeout; a way to avoid her criticism about my staple spinach, bacon and berries salad. I personally liked to order food from Alexander’s Steakhouse down the street and Frida & Diego, the Mexican restaurant two blocks north from my house, either one of those places made great salads. However, Paige had a totally different taste, and I found it best to keep our disagreements to a minimum. After all, we were working on our sisterhood, becoming not only family but also best friends… at least that’s what I thought.

As I reached my apartment, I heard moaning noises and a few screams. That was a clue, a red flag that I should wait for those sounds to fade before entering. Instead, I opened the door and found my sister slammed against the window and Kevin plunging into her.

“You want it harder, baby,” he said.

My sister only moaned in response, as he went faster on her. Great, live porn in the comfort of my home, I thought in disbelief.

“Out,” I yelled as my heart shrank. I attempted to glean the situation and perhaps made an excuse or two for my sister’s behavior. My sister. “How can you do this to me?”

“It’s not what you think,” Kevin turned around holding my sister. I deviated my gaze because I didn’t want to see her bare ass. The same one she displayed against my window to the rest of New York only seconds ago.

“So you’re not fucking my sister in my apartment?” I asked, then looked back at them and waved my index finger in the air. “Because I think that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

Paige unhooked her legs from his waist and straightened her mini-skirt. Her narrow eyes and pinched expression made my blood boil.

“I want the two of you out.” My voice was firm.

“My house is under construction, Hayley,” Paige crossed her arms. “As usual you’re being unreasonable.”

“You have got to be kidding,” I sauntered to the door and opened it. “Get out or I’ll call Dad. No, better yet, I’ll call Parker. He’s in town.”

She gasped, uncrossed her arms and headed toward the guest room, within a few seconds she came rushing out with her purse and headed to the open door with Kevin following.

“You’ll be sorry, Hayley,” she warned me.

After she had left, I called Parker, her older brother a.k.a. my older half-brother. He promptly arrived at my house to nourish my broken heart and cook us dinner.

“He’s not worth your time, Hay-Bear,” he said while grating cheese. His lasagna was one of the best I have ever had. He looked up; those dark brown eyes that are almost the exact color of his hair were staring at me. “You shouldn’t waste a second glance at a guy like him; we told you he was a scumbag.”

“These tears aren’t about him; it’s Paige. She didn’t care about my feelings, Parks.” I sipped the glass of wine I held. “Actually, she gave me that narrowing gaze that says I’m going to eliminate you. Why can’t she be more like a sister to me?”

“You know her, Hayl,” He covered the baking dish with foil, opened the oven and set the dish inside. “I told you not to let her stay at your place but you didn’t listen to me. For what’s it’s worth, it’s their loss. Not yours.”

“I lost my boyfriend to my sister,” I reminded him.

“Sadly, Hayl, I know the moment she snaps her fingers, you’ll forget about today, and do whatever she wants. You’re too nice.”

“Hayley, Hayley. You know I love you, right child?” Mom doesn’t wait for me to answer but continues with the bomb she’s about to drop. I wish for once she said… “
You know I love you.
” And stop right there.

“When I say different,” she says with some exasperation as she points to me with her index finger. “I mean your appearance. Don’t you agree, Augustine?” I stare at Dad holding my breath because I fear he was going to agree with her. “She needs to change those baggy clothes, use some makeup, the list is infinite. Who’ll want to date you?”

I eye her Louis Vuitton purse and wonder if she has a hidden binder with a rigorous diet to slim these curves of mine she hates, the ones she swears look hideous with my midget like height. Oh, and don’t forget the list of approved outfits that I should wear along with a new and improved hairdo of her choice. Yes, a complete makeover to land
the guy
.

“She’s perfect,” Dad tells her and I let out the breath I was holding. “Stop harassing our child, Caroline, she’s fine the way she is.”

“Don’t be stupid, Augustine.” Mom turns her attention to me. “If you go to Vegas, you might want to catch a man there, Hayley.” She uses her long perfectly manicured nails to scratch the glass of my display case. “At this pace, your biological clock will run out before you lose that virginity of yours.”

“Why do I continue to keep trusting you with my private information?” I gasp, and she gives me her infamous warning death glare. Yet, I add more. “Dad, get your ex-whatever out of my shop.”

“You’re impossible today, Hayley, I taught you better than that,” she yells, sounding like a howling hyena. “Augustine,
when
or should I say
if
, Hayley marries, you’ll pay as we agreed. A big wedding fit for a princess. Bigger than the one that girl from England, what’s her name?” she snaps her fingers. “Yes, Kate. Bigger and grander than hers. Just because the other one is eloping to Vegas of all places, it doesn’t mean you should expect the same from this one, and especially after what your spawn did to our little girl.”

Little girl, spawn, eloping
… there are so many things I can say, such as, “
You can’t insult me and then call me your little girl.
” or “
Paige is your best friend’s daughter, how can you call her a spawn
?” But I refrain and watch her slam my glass door; the one she has yet to break with one of her theatrical exits.

“Mom should learn that eloping is when people fly away to be married without planning or telling anyone,” I tell Dad.

“I’m proud of you,” Dad pats the hand I have resting on top of the showcase. His light green eyes crinkle as he says that. “For not feeding the fire.”

“I never feed the fire, Dad.” He doesn’t acknowledge what I say, so I ask. “What is wrong with her, Dad? The only reason she came to see me was to find out about the wedding.”

“She’s searing about Kevin,” Dad tells me. “On Saturday she came to my house claiming that Paige stole Kevin from you; I should do something. What am I supposed to do?”

“Mom did the same thing Paige did to me, but with Ted,” I remind Dad.

Ted, my first serious boyfriend, slept with my mother after a couple of months of dating me. Do you see the trend here?

Instead of apologizing about it, Mom lectured me about how I should change my appearance and lose that virginity to anyone that would dare to touch me. Mom, the one that keeps my self-esteem down, some of her best hits being:

“You’re too short, Hayley wear high heels.”
I’m five-two exactly like her, and I work on my feet. I don’t think so.

“You’re fat.”
I don’t think so; one-fifteen is a healthy weight for my curvy frame. I have boobs and hips.

“You need makeup to highlight those eyes.”
I have a lighter olive skin tone than hers, and I think it highlights the pale green eyes I inherited from Dad perfectly.

“Dye your hair, blondes are more attractive.”
Who’d notice? I tie my maple brown hair into a bun, braids, pony-tails or I simply use hats.

I rub my hands against my thighs to wipe the sweat from them and try to work on stabilizing my breathing, hoping my stomach settles soon.

“Are you okay?” I don’t respond and busy myself fixing the pastries for the second rush. “Hayley, you need a life outside the shop; this is your job, not your life.”

“Mom still thinks this is a hobby,” my voice is about to crack from the frustration and anger but my composure remains intact. “One day I’ll run away from her, leave her with Bridget and Paige. Who we both know couldn’t care less about her.”