Chapter 9 - The Sweetest Revenge
The new house in Old Town Alexandria smelled of fresh paint, cedar wood, and yellow apples.
By five o'clock on Saturday afternoon, the movers were gone. The living room was filled with boxes, but the kitchen was completely unpacked. The oak floorboards gleamed under the warm light of the hanging pendant lamps.
In the backyard, the setting sun was painting the sky in deep, rich shades of violet and orange.
I stood at the kitchen island, wearing a comfortable oversized sweater and jeans, watching through the glass double doors as Lily played on the lawn. She was wearing her sneakers and her yellow coat, kicking a red ball across the green grass, her laughter floating through the slightly open door.
The doorbell rang.
I walked to the front door and opened it.
Standing on the porch was Julian Vance, holding a large, flat bakery box tied with a thick red ribbon, and beside him was Arthur, the old security guard from the office, wearing a dark suit and carrying a bunch of yellow sunflowers.
"We brought housewarming supplies," Julian said, stepping onto the porch with a broad smile.
"And Arthur insisted on picking the flowers himself," Julian added, motioning to the guard.
"Yellow sunflowers," Arthur said, holding them out with a formal nod. "For a bright new start, Miss Claire."
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, warm and real. "Come in," I said, stepping aside. "Please, come in."
We walked into the kitchen. Julian set the large bakery box on the center island and carefully untied the red ribbon.
He folded back the cardboard flaps.
Inside was a massive, two-tier vanilla sponge cake. It was covered in smooth, thick whipped buttercream, decorated with delicate sugar flowers, and written across the center in bright, vibrant blue frosting were six words:
HAPPY NEW BEGINNING, CLAIRE AND LILY.
I stared at the cake. The blue frosting caught the light from the kitchen lamps, rich, deep, and brilliant.
Lily ran through the back door, her cheeks flushed red from the cold air, her dark hair flying around her face. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the big box on the counter.
"Mommy!" she gasped, her eyes going wide as saucers. "Is that... is that real blue icing?"
"It’s real blue icing, sweetheart," Julian said, kneeling down so he was at eye level with her. "And the baker told me a secret."
"What secret?" Lily whispered, stepping closer.
"He said blue icing tastes like wishes," Julian said with a wink.
Lily turned her head and looked up at me, her small face radiant with pure, unfiltered joy.
"Can we eat it now, Mommy?" she asked. "Can we eat it for dinner?"
I looked at my daughter. I looked at Julian. I looked at Arthur, who was smiling softly near the door.
May you like
I looked at this house—our house—built on my work, paid for with my labor, protected by my strength, and completely free of any signature that didn't belong to me.
"Yes, baby," I said, reaching for the cake server on the counter. "We can eat it for dinner. We can eat as much of it as we want."
