Bachelorette Blues

“Nonsense.” May Belle leaned toward Shayna. “Honey, let me tell you something. This boy is the best catch around. And they come from all over to pass through my lane, so May Belle knows. You married?”

“No, ma’am,” Shayna squeaked.

“Then, sweetheart, look no farther. Look at him. As handsome as the day is long, sweeter than Mama’s homemade pudding, and he can coo—”

“May Belle, please. You’re embarrassing me.” Max was actually enjoying the attention, but May Belle was about to blow his cover.

“And modest, too. Don’t worry, sugar. I’ve said my piece.” She winked at Shayna, returning her attention to the groceries. “My, my, my, you got a lot of oranges.”

“No, no, Shayna. That’s not how you fold the egg mixture. That’s more of a chopping motion.” Max rushed to her side to take over.

She let him take the bowl from her. “I know, but the spatula hits right where I burned myself, and that makes it difficult to…”

“It’s okay, I understand. Why don’t you grate the…Actually, why don’t you sit over there and have a break?”

Shayna slunk over to a chair. “I’m not usually like this, Max. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I came over here to help you, and I’m just making a mess of everything.”

Max looked over his shoulder at her as he gently folded the eggs into the chocolate like an old pro. “You’re doing fine. We all have days like this.”

She watched his effortless motions. “You sure seem to be catching on quick.”

“You’re a good teacher.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, right. So far I’ve taught you how to burn yourself preheating an oven, ruin batter by dropping hundreds of microscopic eggshells into it, and now you’re afraid to let me grate the chocolate because you’re thinking I’ll scrape off what’s left of my fingernails.”

Shayna watched glumly as Max carried out the remaining steps of the recipe. Once again he was gliding through life as smooth as silk while she bumped over polyester naps. How could this be?

He could stroll through the store without being distracted by bags of chocolate-chip cookies or almond candy bars. She had to keep both eyes on a list or she’d be overwhelmed by temptation.

How nice it must be to buy things just because you want them. To leave at a moment’s notice and arrive without warning. Max, for all his casual disorder and spontaneous chaos, seemed so…free.

Shayna experienced a fleeting moment of envy.

No, she scolded herself. These last few days had proven that when she left one thread unbound, the entire fabric of her life began to unravel.

She sat in Max’s kitchen a frazzled wreck because she’d allowed herself to get off schedule—damn that alarm clock. Veering off her routine left her flustered and disoriented. That must explain her clumsiness. High school all over again.

This is what it was like to be out of control—like a derailed train, plowing into oblivion.