“Then you don’t know.” Her words were fast and sharp.

His were slow and careful. “You’re right. I don’t know.”

He pulled a U-turn and parked in front of the house.

Bea covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry. I just . . .”

He turned off the car and gently tugged her hands down. “Hey.”

She stared at her knees, unwilling to be undone.

“Bea.”

She chanced a look up at his face.

He smiled. “We’re in this together, okay? We’re going to figure it out. All of it.”

“But what if everyth—” She pressed her lips together. “What if the cake falls apart?”

He squeezed her hands. “Then we’ll eat it anyway, and no one will give it a second thought.”

It wasn’t that simple. She wanted to prove herself. Make her dad see she wasn’t wasting her life. Prove that she could be a good wife and mother and daughter and take care of everyone, just like Mom used to do. If she could bake the perfect cake . . .

She took a deep breath, opened her door, and climbed out. Company would be here soon. She needed to make this happen. Jeremy would help. They held hands as they walked to the house. Though the low-lying clouds hovered over the mountains to the east, the sun shone on them from overhead. Jeremy held the door open for her.

“Hey, Dad,” she called. “We’re home.”

“In the kitchen.” His reply was muffled as if he were bent over something.

She quickly hung up her coat and headed that way, eager to get to work on her final preparations. She turned the corner and froze, eyes wide.

There were bags of frozen vegetables on the counter. Ice cream cartons and a Stouffer’s lasagna in the sink. The freezer-side door of the fridge was detached and lying across the table. Dad stood next to it, one arm crossed over his chest and the other propped on it, fingers drumming his chin.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was shrill, but she didn’t care. “People will be here in—” she checked the time—“eighteen minutes.”

“I think I finally figured it out.” Dad lifted the door off the table.

She stuck her fingers in her hair. “This is not okay.”

Dad stood the door on the floor and gave her a sheepish look. “I might’ve gotten carried away. But Jeremy will help me, and we’ll have everything back in place in no time. Right, Jeremy?”

His mouth was hanging open a little, but Jeremy nodded. “Sure.”

Bea pressed her lips together. Jeremy was supposed to help her.

“You do whatever you need to do.” Dad’s sheepish look turned serious. “And don’t worry about us.”