As August rolls into September, my confidence in baking increases. On Friday nights, I drill Tyson for recipes and spend all day Sunday making what he suggested. When I perfect the recipe, I take a batch to the Kings the following Saturday. Adam and Crystal fawn over my food, but Jenna won’t even look at it. I don’t care. The Kings’ compliments matter more than any false positive word Jenna could manage.

Aunt Veronica complains about the increased heat and waste of pantry staples (though I replace them), but always does the dirty dishes I create. Twice, she tries to eat the heavy desserts I make, but fifteen minutes later my great aunt vomits it up.

Most of what I produce goes to Aunt Veronica’s clients, who rave about the food.

My mother’s phone calls increase, and I look forward to them more and more with each passing week. We don’t talk about much, never about my father or the state of my parents’ marriage. From my mother’s tone, I suspect my parents’ relationship has taken a darker turn. I often wish I was in North Carolina to mediate between them, but I don’t let that desire impact my daily life.

Work improves. Jenna stays home less and less. The Kings tell me their girlfriend always gets super busy around this time of year, but I don’t believe them. The rare moments the trio spend together around me, I sense a thick wall between the Kings and Jenna that grows with each day. I know Adam and Crystal have stopped sleeping with Jenna (I overheard Crystal complaining about it on the phone with a friend).

With Jenna’s absence, I notice Adam spends more hours at the house. I try to avoid the thought, but I believe he specifically hangs around to be with me. He doesn’t do anything outright inappropriate, but his gaze lingers on me when he stands across the room, and when we talk, he always finds a way to touch my hand or arm.

I want to hate the attention. He has a wife and a girlfriend. Plus, I can’t date my boss. I don’t need any more drama in my life.

But I love every minute of his focus. Adam stimulates my brain in a way no man has, not even in college. His intelligence is parallel to my father’s but without my father’s arrogance. I don’t feel pressured to force a conversation with him like I do so many others, and, more times than not, we just hang out in companionable silence.

If Adam outright pursues me, I’ll have a hard time turning him down. It horrifies me, that realization. I like to think I have more respect for myself than that, but, alone at night, I know I don’t.

***

Crystal smooths the tablecloth, a brand new one in Jenna’s favorite shade of red. She’s done this twice already in five minutes. “Is the tablecloth too much?”

I look over the dining room table, ornamented with roses and gold-accented centerpieces. To me, though the decorations cost a decent chunk of change, they’re too flashy for a small birthday party. Yet, Adam mentioned, Jenna won’t accept anything less. He then laughed, but it sounded angry and sarcastic.

“No. I’m sure Jenna will...love it.”

“She’d better,” Adam says as he finishes setting up the gift table.

Crystal sticks her tongue out at him and points at a bag on the chair nearest her husband. “Can you put all those presents on the table?”

I hand Adam an enveloped card. “Here’s mine.”

“Oh, how sweet of you!” Crystal says.

Adam smirks, but takes the card and puts it with the dozen gifts the Kings bought. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate the gesture.”

The card has a long-haired cat on it, and inside I put a fifty-dollar gift card to Olive Garden. I overheard Jenna proclaim her hatred for both cats and the Italian restaurant chain and hope my present pisses Jenna off. The woman doesn’t deserve anything nice. She’s done everything in her power to be a thorn in my side for the past three months.

I beam. “I think she will.”

Crystal nods at the kitchen. “Whitney, can you get the cake? I want it in the center of the table.”

I spring to action, and a minute later I carry the three-layer masterpiece into the dining room. I worked hard the previous night to get the butter rum cake and cream cheese frosting just right. Then I got up an hour early today to race the cake over to Darla’s so Tyson could cover it with hand-piped roses.

“We can’t thank you enough,” Crystal says as I set the cake in its place.

I shrug. “I didn’t mind.”

I tell the truth. I don’t care what Jenna might think of the cake; I made it to get more feedback about my baking ability. The Kings invited twenty of Jenna’s closest friends (I’m still surprised they found one), and Crystal assured me they all loved cake.

Crystal grabs both my and Adam’s hands and pulls us to the front of the room. She breathes deep. “I think we did all right.”

Adam and I murmur our agreement.

“Now—”

“What’s going on?” Jenna’s voice asks behind the trio.

Crystal spins on her heel. “Why are you home so early?” She makes a weak attempt to hide the dining room. She tugs on Adam, but he refuses to join her endeavor.

Jenna smirks. “Rodger got the board to settle on a solution sooner than expected.” She glances over Crystal’s shoulder. “Good thing, too. Is this a surprise party?”

Crystal frowns. “Well, kind of.”

Jenna nudges past her partners and slowly walks around the dining room. She stops at the gift table, examines them, then picks up my card. Jenna removes it from its envelope (ignores Crystal’s weak protest), and her lips purse. I notice a vein pulse in her neck when she removes the gift card.

“Wasn’t that nice of Whitney?” Crystal prompts.

Jenna grunts.

Adam frowns. “She didn’t have to and deserves an actual thank you.”

Crystal’s grip on her husband’s hand tightens. “Jenna’s just overcome with emotion. I’m sure she’ll thank Whitney once—”

Jenna points at the cake. “Did you get that from Shrub’s Bakery?” A shred of pleasantness has crept into her tone.

Crystal edges closer to Jenna. “No. Whitney made it.”

“I had a friend put on the roses since I suck at artsy stuff like that,” I add.

Whatever happiness Jenna expressed vanishes. “But you know I only like a cake from Shrub’s Bakery.”

Crystal frowns. “I thought this would be nicer, and Whitney’s just as good as anyone at Shrub’s. Plus, this is a good experience for Whitney. This way, two birds have been—”

With a cry, Jenna shreds the card I got her and its envelope and snaps the gift card in two. Before I or the Kings can respond, Jenna advances on the cake. She shoves it off the table, and it crashes to the floor. On impact, cake and frosting go flying and coat the rug, tablecloth, closest chairs, and nearby wall.

The sight of the mess pulls me and the Kings from our daze. I break into giggles. Crystal covers her face and Adam storms toward Jenna.

“What the fuck did you do that for?”

Jenna glares at her boyfriend. “I’m sick and fucking tired of hearing about Whitney. With the way you and Crystal go on about her, you’d swear she was the fucking second coming of Jesus. It’s disgusting.”

“So, you feel because of that, you get to treat her like trash?”

“Guys, please don’t,” Crystal says, her words muffled by her fingers. “This is supposed to be a nice day. Can’t we—”

Jenna gets in Adam’s face. “Since she started working here, it’s like I no longer exist.” She pegs both Kings with her searing gaze. “You prefer her to me.”

Adam’s top lip curls into a snarl. “You know, for once in a really long time, you’re right. She’s not a bitch like you.”

Crystal breaks into sobs. “Adam! Jenna! Stop.”

Jenna’s expression twists into one of pure anger. “If that’s how you feel, fine. Bye, assholes. I’m done with you all.” She runs past the Kings but stops in front of me. She licks off the frosting she got on her fingers and spits it on my left shoe. “It tastes like shit, like everything you’ve ever made or ever will.”

My hand twitches as I envision wrapping my hands around Jenna’s throat and strangling her unconscious, but I keep my cool. “I can live with that. At least I’m not a cunt.”

Jenna shoves me out of my way and stomps out of the house; forever, I hope.

In her absence, Crystal bursts into hysterical crying. Adam shakes, and his eyes flash with malice, but he comforts his wife the best he can. I long to console them but don’t know how. So, I tell them I need to leave.

Neither of the Kings respond, and I flee the scene.