“And saved every onion peel the rest of us thought belonged in garbage.”
More laughter.
“She fed half of us.”
Clara called:
“Everyone fed everyone.”
Ben nodded.
“That’s true.”
Then:
“But she knew how.”
The crowd applauded.
Clara hated every second.
Caleb leaned close.
“You are red.”
“Take me home.”
“This is wonderful.”
“I will murder you.”
“With the cake knife?”
She turned toward him.
His eyes sparkled.
Clara started laughing.
The crowd saw.
And somehow that made the applause worse.
They returned to her cabin two days later.
The trail reopened enough.
Snow still covered the trees.
Inside, the room looked exactly as they had left it.
Table.
Stove.
Jars.
The cake was gone.
Of course.
Caleb stood near the doorway.
Clara removed her shawl.
Silence filled the cabin.
Different now.
After weeks surrounded by people, privacy felt enormous.
Caleb looked at her.
She looked at him.
Neither moved.
Then Clara said:
“We were interrupted.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“When?”
“The cake.”
A smile appeared.
“You remember.”
“I remember everything.”
Caleb approached.
Slowly.
“You said I was staring at your mouth.”
“You were.”
“I still am.”
Clara’s pulse rose.
He stopped close.
“You told me to come closer.”
“Yes.”
“I did.”
“Not close enough.”
Caleb touched her cheek.
“Tell me what you want.”
Clara looked into his eyes.
“You.”
No teasing.
No protection.
One word.
His breath changed.
She continued.
“I want you here tonight.”
“And tomorrow?”
“If you behave.”
He laughed softly.
Then became serious.
“Clara.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not good at temporary.”
Her expression softened.
“Neither am I.”
“I need you to understand.”
“I do.”
“If I stay…”
She touched his lips with one finger.
“Stop trying to frighten me with commitment.”
He stared.
Then laughed.
She smiled.
“Stay.”
Caleb kissed her.
Slow at first.
Then deeper.
Clara felt his hands settle carefully at her waist.
She moved closer.
Her enormous body pressed against him.
For years she had imagined moments like this only to ruin them inside her own mind.
A man noticing the size of her arms.
Her stomach.
Her thighs.
How much space she occupied in a bed.
How heavily she breathed.
How differently her body moved.
Caleb already knew.
He was not surprised.
That mattered.
Still, vulnerability arrived.
She pulled away.
Caleb stopped instantly.
“What?”
Clara looked down.
“Nothing.”
“That is a lie.”
She exhaled.
“When you see me…”
“I see you now.”
“Not all of me.”
His expression changed.
Understanding.
Clara continued.
“I am not shaped like women men write songs about.”