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I’m Craving Soft Gingerbread

Marta unlocked the car. “Just put that on the seat.”

“Marta, I—”

“Put the food in the car. We’re going to walk over to Wentzel’s and enjoy the night air. Okay?”

He nodded and complied.

“Ready?”

“Are you?”

She looked back at the restaurant. “I don’t know what to think about that.”

“Look, I haven’t been sleeping well.” He leaned on the roof of her car.

She grimaced in disbelief. “Okay, but what does that have to do with her?”

“Everything,” He sighed. “and nothing.”

Marta threw her hands up. “Well, that explains everything.”

“I can try to explain, but it’s going to sound weird.”

“I’ll bet.” She tucked her hands into her coat pockets and shivered. “Come on. You owe me some dessert.”

He followed her back to the sidewalk of the shopping center with a nervous glance at the bright windows of the Tandoori Grill.

“Well?”

He caught up to her as she passed the card store. “Okay, here comes the weird part, but it will make sense if you let me finish.”

She motioned that she was zipping her lips.

“The reason I can’t sleep is because she is what I see when I close my eyes.”

“What? You’ve got the hots for Sarah?”

“No, she looks like somebody else.” He cringed at her outburst.

“Oh, you’ve got the hots for some other redhead. I wish I’d have known before I asked you out.”

“I don’t have the hots for anybody, Marta. I’m—”

“Gay?”

“What? No. Come on, you need to let me finish.”

“You don’t have the hots for anybody? Does that include me?”

“I mean anybody else. No redheads or whatever.”

“Oh, so you do have the hots for me. Now we’re making progress.” She looped her arm around his. “So, what I need to do is to make it so you see me when you close your eyes.”

“Um, yes?”

“Well, there’s a vote of confidence.” She rolled her eyes.

“Look, we’re almost to the grocery store. Can I tell you—”

She nodded emphatically. “Yeah, spit it out already. You’ve got me on pins and needles here.”

“The reason I see the little girl who looks like Sarah in my nightmares is because she was the last thing I saw before I woke up in prison. Marta, she was terrified of me. I was an idiot to get involved in that mess, and now she haunts me every single night.”

“Okay, let’s put a pin in that until we get back to the car.” She looked up into his bloodshot eyes. “Deal?”

He nodded and followed her into the upscale grocery store. She took his hand and led him to the bakery.

“What did you have in mind?” He looked at the display of gaily decorated cakes.

She surveyed the shelves of wrapped holiday treats. “I’m craving soft gingerbread.”

“Soft?”

“Yeah, it’s more like cake. I like gingerbread cookies and houses, but the soft kind is so good with a shot of whipped cream on top.” She orbited the display shelves. “Ah, here. Do you want a piece?”

“Sure. Sounds great.” He joined her at the shelves. “Ooh, peanut butter cookies. I haven’t had these in ages.”

She rocked from heel to toe. “Hmm, the turducken guy is very basic. Good to know. I’m starting to get a picture now.”

“What you see is what you get.” He shrugged.

“Better by the moment, sport.” She held her hand out. “You’re talking my language.”

He took her hand and followed her to the dairy section. “Which kind of whipped cream do you prefer?”

“Well,” She tapped her cheek with a finger. Her thinking face was so adorable, he wanted to kiss her. “I like the kind in the tub when I’m sitting around watching chick flicks with Trilby.”

“You sit there and scoop it up like ice cream?”

“Yeppers.”

“Uh-huh.” He smiled in spite of himself.

“For soft gingerbread and sundaes, I like the canned stuff.”

“Interesting.”

She got a wicked smile. “If you want interesting, wait until I show you what else I have in mind.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re adorably weird.” He grabbed two cans of whipped cream from the cooler.

“Mr. Doyle, that may very well be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Need anything else before we check out?”

“A man of means.” She nodded. “Okay, I will indulge your generosity.”

“Sounds like trouble.” He smiled as she pulled him to the seasonal aisles.

She skipped around the colorful display of candy, packaged cookies and other holiday treats.

“What are you looking for?” He smiled.

“Chocolate-covered marzipan bars. I’ve been waiting for these things to hit the shelves since last Christmas.”

He searched the shelves without success. “What does it look like?”

“Ah, here it is.” She pulled one out to show him.

“Fancy.” He added it to the collection of treats he was carrying. “Anything else?”

“Does the pastor have hot chocolate?”

“I think so, but we should probably buy a box just to be safe.”

“Keep up.” She dashed out of the aisle.

He smirked as he followed her. “I’m losing my grip here.”

“We’d better check out then.” She pranced up with a box of hot chocolate mix.

He took a deep breath. Once they were out of the store, he’d have to take the pin out of what he was telling her. “Yeah.”

“Hey, when we get to the car, do you want to try the marzipan or dig into the cookies?” She dragged him to the check-out lines.

“Either is fine, I guess.” He whispered.

She stopped and took some of the items from him. “Look, about that other thing. I’m not going to judge. Okay?”

“I don’t want it to spoil your dessert.”

“Nothing can spoil soft gingerbread and hot chocolate with whipped cream.”

“This might.”

She pointed at him with the wrapped marzipan bar. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ryan. Give me a chance.”