Page 32 of Whisk Me Away
I gave him one last glance before opening the door to my car.
"Thanks, Brant," I said softly before sliding behind the wheel and driving home to Mom and Dad's.
CHAPTER 20
KARIS
Mom seemed more tired than usual, but whenever I asked if she was alright, she'd brush me off, saying she was fine. I wanted to trust her, but something just didn't feel right. It had been a few weeks since she'd completed the treatment, and I knew she’d had an appointment recently to do another scan to see if anything had spread or come back. While Mom and Dad hadn’t said anything, I was just worried they were keeping something from us.
I debated asking Eden what she thought for the last few days. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cause her to worry as well, but I was making myself crazy watching Mom's every move. I needed to process this out loud with someone, and it felt right for Eden to be that person.
Across the table, Eden sipped a cup of piping hot tea while we both stared into space, lost in our own thoughts. She seemed just as distracted as I was. Maybe she was already having the same doubts and worries I was about Mom's health.
I inhaled deeply, holding it until it burned before letting it out slowly.
"Eden, do you think Mom's okay?" I asked timidly, almost afraid of her answer.
What if she blew me off also and made me feel silly for worrying? What if she confirmed she'd been having the same thoughts, causing me to worry even more? My legs bounced uncontrollably under the table while I waited for her to answer.
Eden slowly looked up from her bright teal, oversized mug and made eye contact with me. A worried look passed over her face before she placed her mug down and intertwined her fingers together on top of the table.
"Honestly, Karis, I'm not sure, but I'm beginning to think no,” Eden's words were low and slow like she was afraid to voice her thoughts aloud.
The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach was back. It had been my constant companion over the last few days. Ever since I caught Mom sleeping at the kitchen island.
My mind drifted back to the morning when I walked downstairs to grab a quick coffee. I had rounded the corner and saw Mom sitting on the cushioned stool at the kitchen island with her head resting on her arms.
I had approached her slowly, rubbing a hand gently down her back and up again. She hadn't moved, but I could feel her shaky breath beneath my palm. When I called her name, she slowly raised her head and gave me a sad smile. I told her I was worried about her, and she assured me she was fine. She said she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep, and her energy still hadn't returned after the treatment, so she was just a bit tired.
Deciding not to argue with her, I poured us both a cup of coffee, kissed her on the cheek, and told her I'd come to check on her during my lunch break.
Now I'm wondering if I should have just closed the bakery for the day and pressed her for more information. If Eden was worried about her also, then something was definitely wrong. Where I am a type A planner, Eden is carefree and goes with the flow. So, it took a lot to ruffle her feathers, and the fact that she looked worried caused the knot in my stomach to tighten.
I couldn't imagine a life without my mom here on this earth with us. I didn't want to even try.
“Have you heard anything about her appointment? It was this week wasn’t it?” I asked.
Eden shook her head. “No, I asked Dad about it and he wouldn’t give me anything. That’s when I really started to worry.”
“I’ll give them a few more days, maybe they didn’t get good news and they need time to process between themselves before telling us.”
Slowly Eden nodded, picking up her mug to take another sip. “I’ll let you know if I hear from them, and you do the same for me,” she responded.
The bell above the door jingled bringing my mind back to work. I gave Eden a weak smile that I knew didn’t reach my eyes before plastering on the best fake smile I could muster.
“Welcome to Whisk Me Away, I’ll be right with you,” I greeted my new customer with a voice that sounded more cheery than I felt.
I slipped into the kitchen to retrieve my apron. I slipped the frilly, bright pink fabric around my neck and secured it around my waist and got back to work.
The next few hours seemed to pass in a blur. While my physical body was present in the bakery serving people and restocking baked goods, my mind was somewhere else entirely.
Worry for my mom was slowly gnawing away at my resolve to wait for my parents to share any updates with us. I wanted to know if there was something I could do or a way I could serve Mom in this season. I refused to believe her prognosis is negative. I didn’t want to imagine a life where my mom wasn’t here with me every single day.
When my thoughts weren’t pinging between worry and panic over the situation with my mom, they were drifting back to Brant. Learning about his past with his ex-fiancée sent shockwaves through me, casting doubt on whether his heart could genuinely love me. The revelation felt like a punch to the gut, leaving me questioning everything I thought I knew about him.
On the one hand, I wanted to believe that Brant had moved on from his past and was fully open to the possibilities of something meaningful with me. But on the other hand, the doubts lingered like a stubborn shadow, whispering insecurities into my mind. Was I just a rebound, a temporary distraction from the pain of his past? Did he still carry feelings for his ex despite his reassurances to the contrary?
I started my closing process for the bakery, cleaning the tables and floors while wrestling with my emotions. Part of me wanted to confront Brant, to demand answers and clarity about where we stood. But another part feared the truth, afraid that his response would confirm my worst fears. That I was reading too much into our interactions, and he doesn’t have any feelings for me.