Stacy Connelly - Small-Town Cinderella

Billy Cummings, the sheriff’s son, had gone on a football kick after seeing his first professional game and had worn a miniature helmet 24/7 for weeks on end. Mark Thompson had had the biggest crush on their freshman English teacher, and his brother, Bruce, swore the garage band he was in would make it big even though none of the members could actually play an instrument. Then there was Darrell Nelson and the cruel pranks he used to play, bullying anyone who was smaller and weaker than he was.

She remembered it all, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she was well aware they remembered all the awkward growing pains she’d gone through, too.

Mystery? Romance? Excitement?

Not a chance, she thought with a sigh.

“Look, just forget everything I said. This is what happens when a milk-and-cookies girl starts hitting the tequila and lime,” she joked, hoping her friends would be as willing to laugh off her comments.

She should have known she wouldn’t be so lucky.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting some romance in your life,” Kara told her.

At first, Debbie had wondered about the quietly serious college professor marrying Sophia’s fun-loving, outgoing brother Sam. But over the past few weeks, Debbie had gotten to know Kara and to see the warm heart behind the classy blonde’s cool exterior.

“And I highly recommend having a gorgeous guy sweep you off your feet.” Darcy grinned. “But why are you totally discounting the whole Clearville male population? I speak from personal experience when I say my guy is anything but boring.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Kara said as she lifted her glass of chardonnay to tap against Darcy’s appletini.

Their smiles shone with newfound love, though Debbie had a hard time picturing Nick and Sam Pirelli as romantic, sweep-a-girl-off-her-feet types. They’d always been more like big brothers to her—sometimes sweet, sometimes annoying, always overprotective big brothers.

That was something Sophia as the youngest Pirelli and only girl could certainly understand. After exchanging a look with her friend, Debbie argued, “It’s different for the two of you. Neither of you grew up here, so to you, Clearville guys are mysterious and exciting. But for me, these are the guys I’ve known forever. The boys next door. No mystery, no excitement, no sparks.”

All that was bad enough. Worse was knowing the male population of the town viewed her the same way. The girl next door. The buddy, the pal, the friend whose shoulder they cried on when the popular, pretty girls turned them down.

She winced at the memory when she thought of the name that had followed her since her days at Redwood Elementary School, thanks in part to the bakery her mother owned and the sweets that had filled her lunches and helped fill out her waistline. She’d never been “little” anything, and while she’d known the nickname was mostly a lighthearted tease, it had hurt all the same.

Now she was the owner of Bonnie’s Bakery, and the years of taking care of her mother after she’d fallen ill and spending all her free time at the bakery had toughened her like overkneaded dough. Her feelings weren’t so easily injured anymore, though she’d suffered a setback thanks to her last boyfriend.

She and Robert Watkins had dated casually for several months earlier in the year, and things had finally started to get serious over the summer. Serious enough for them to sleep together.

Debbie still wasn’t sure which was worse, the pain of heartbreak or the pain of humiliation as she remembered that fateful weekend, and how he’d picked the very next day to tell her he thought they’d be better off just being friends.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if the breakup hadn’t dragged her back to her high school insecurities. To being every guy’s friend, the buddy they could talk to about the prettier, more popular girls they liked. She thought she’d gotten over that. She was over it. But Debbie couldn’t pretend the split with Robert hadn’t brought back a lot of bad memories.

Memories she was determined to overcome. She was woman enough to have confidence in herself, to know what she wanted and to go after it.

“I’m not sure you’re giving these guys enough credit,” Darcy argued. “There are some nice men around here who’d be thrilled to know you’re looking for a boyfriend.” Her eyes lit suddenly. “What about Jarrett Deeks? He and Nick have gotten to be friends working together at Jarrett’s horse rescue. We could set up a double date if you want.”

Debbie cringed slightly at the thought. “No, thank you, Darcy. I’m sure Jarrett’s great and all, but a double date isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Her friend’s brow furrowed. “But if you’re looking for a relationship—”

“I’m not,” she interrupted. “Not really.”

“A not-really relationship?” Kara echoed.

“I’m not looking for anything that serious.” Debbie stabbed her straw at the ice cubes lingering at the bottom of her glass. “I just want to have some fun.” Leaning back against the padded booth, she said, “I feel like I missed out on so much growing up, you know?”

“Actually, we don’t.” Kara leaned forward, her expression open and interested. “You talk a lot without saying much about yourself.”

Debbie blinked, startled by her friend’s comment. “I don’t do that...do I?” She knew she liked to talk, and the more nervous she became, the more she said—often without saying much at all. But she didn’t like to think she fell into that pattern even with her friends. It sounded...selfish. Like she expected them to open their hearts and spill their guts while she kept all her emotions inside. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Sweetie, it’s not a criticism. Just a comment.”

“And I do know what you mean, Deb,” Sophia interjected as she shifted forward in the booth as far as her pregnant belly would allow. “So many of us grew up together that we don’t go around talking about past history because everyone knows everything.”

“But we’re new.” Darcy’s nod included Kara as she added, “So you can tell us all your old stories without worrying that we’ve heard them before.”

“Well, okay, but just because you haven’t heard it all before doesn’t mean it isn’t still boring. My dad was in the military and was killed overseas when I was really young, so growing up, it was just me and my mom. I was still in high school when she was diagnosed with cancer.”

Debbie could still remember walking into the bakery after school that day, the scent of vanilla and chocolate strong in the air. She’d been so excited. Posters had decorated the hall for the homecoming dance, and she’d been so sure that that year someone would ask her to go. She even had the perfect dress picked out, her teenage head filled with plans for the future.

“I could tell right away something was wrong, and when she told me— It was like a nightmare. Something that couldn’t be true. But it was.”

Clearing her throat, she said, “Anyway, my mom always was a fighter, so she went through all the tests and surgeries and treatments, all while still trying to run the bakery. For a while, I thought about dropping out of school, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I took as few classes as I could to get by, quit all extracurricular activities, and I worked in the bakery every spare second I had. A few hours before school and then from the minute I got out until close.”

She’d never bought that dress. Had never attended that homecoming dance or any other dance in high school. The bakery became Debbie’s life the way it had always been her mother’s before that.

“It was all I could do.... I couldn’t make her better, but I could make the cupcakes,” she concluded with a watery laugh.