Lemon Cake

Chapter Eighteen

Tulip was utilizing a trait she usually disengaged once she was off the clock. Being cordial and being the bigger person. Not letting Irvine's nitpicking and backhanded compliments get too deep under her skin. She didn't know how Michelle Obama remained so dignified and poised when her foes insulted or criticized her. 'Going high when they go low' was really leaving a bitter taste on Tulip's tongue. She loved being a petty princess and a sarcastic savant. It was so rewarding and filled her with a warmth that made her smirk slyly.

Unfortunately, Sydney loved Irvine. It was a realization that made her want to race to the trash can and empty her stomach but it was the truth. So, Tulip fought the urge to pull Sydney back in the house and slam the door in the face of the pompous man. Instead of listening to her instincts, she let her heart make the choice and there was no way she was going to disrupt the smile on Sydney's face. It was a work of art that made her happy in return.

Tulip did her best to erase the disgust from her face. It was a skill she was excellent at, many difficult clients had been acquainted with the cordial words, simple and pleasant hospitality. The reward for not correcting those churlish clients were those fat checks that slid into the direct deposit. She wasn't getting money to play nice with Irvine but making Sydney happy was a nice reward.

Was this becoming a bad habit? Doing whatever made the ten-year smile?

Tulip shook the thought off. It had just been a couple of days, not yet a full week. She'd enforce strict rules and hard limits once they knew each other better. After the summer maybe? Maybe July was a good time to be a boss? She shrugged to herself and decided to skim the pages of one of the copious parenting books she bought for a concrete answer.

Her contemplation was shattered as Irvine's lanky frame crossed through the threshold and entered the kitchen. She groaned under her breath and concentrated on what she was doing; scooping vanilla bean ice cream.

"Ice cream at night?" Irvine said in a judgy, questioning tone that grated Tulip's nerves. He sidled next to the kitchen island watching her drop a scoop of ice cream into one of the bowls as if he was grading her scooping technique.  "All that sugar and dairy is going to give her wild dreams.

Were wild dreams a bad thing? Aren't all dreams wild? She kept those questions to herself and decided to ask something else.

"And what do you suppose we have with the peach cobbler?" She gestured to the individual peach cobblers still warm in the glass pie dish she brought because it was her favorite color. Yellow.

He didn't move his eyes to the dish. "How about just the cobbler? It's enough sugar to rot out her teeth. No need to go overboard." 

Tulip tightened her hand around the scooper as vitriol rushed up to her throat. Sydney was deep in a candy apple bubble bath. She found the bottle while she was supposed to be watching Tulip put on her makeup but instead went rummaging through her cabinets with fiery curiosity.

It was last year's Christmas present from Will so she didn't mind giving it to her. Tulip didn't know why he thought she wanted to smell like a lollipop. She wasn't twelve anymore.

Tulip thought of a trick her Granny taught her when she would get into fights at school for being teased for her name. Breathe in, count to three. Breath out, count to three. It always worked and this time it didn't fail, either.

"Thank you for your opinion." She forcefully drug the scooper into the ice cream like she was digging dirt. "Do you have any other nuggets of wisdom?"

"Actually..." He started, sliding onto the barstool. "It's almost eight, which is her bedtime. She should really be ushered off to bed and not partaking in treats."