Clarity by Loretta Lost Page A

and sharp mood swings. I shrug, and decide to question her later about the strange behavior.
    “I went to the bakery last night and got some delicious red velvet cupcakes for you,” my father says. “Will you join me for a completely unhealthy, sugary breakfast?”
    My mouth begins to water, and my legs begin moving toward the kitchen. “Heck, yes!” I am still wearing my winter coat and boots, but I don’t even care. I want those cupcakes.
     

 
    I ate five cupcakes. Really. Five cupcakes.
    I don’t even regret it. They were so scrumptious and delectable that I could have died, right there in the kitchen. Death by cupcake. I could have just keeled over in a seizure of red-velvet-induced bliss. They were, hands down, the best cupcakes in the world. The best substance, period, that I have ever tasted in my life. I didn’t even try to be polite. No, I shoved my fingers in there, getting them all sticky and covered with icing. I shed my jacket and kicked off my boots to curl up in one of our upholstered kitchen chairs as I gorged. I stuffed my mouth full to the brim and closed my eyes and chewed very, very slowly. It was heavenly. It was like a celestial encounter with dozens of tiny deities, tap-dancing on my tongue.
    My father has been sharing various details of events I’ve missed over the years, and I’m trying my best to pay attention to him and not to the perfection on my taste buds. It’s hard. Most of the conversation does not require my full attention, but I pause and grow worried when he begins discussing our financial situation. For a moment, I am regretfully distracted from my hedonistic joy as I listen to the story of how he lost his job at the pharmaceutical company shortly after my mother’s death. Combined with the market crash, our finances were in a sorry state. He had needed to take out a mortgage on the house, which had previously been paid off in full. He complains that he has been incredibly dejected by the looming feeling of moving backward instead of forward. I nod attentively as I chow down ravenously on the cupcakes.
    “But things are looking up,” he says firmly. “I owe it largely to your sister’s fiancé, Grayson. He’s a smart boy, with a good head on his shoulders. He’s given me some really good investing advice, and it looks like we won’t need to sell the house after all.”
    “So you approve of this guy? He’s decent, this Grayson?” I ask, nibbling the icing off the sixth cupcake. The sweetness is finally starting to overwhelm me, and my chewing begins to slow. I inwardly bemoan that I must be approaching my ultimate cupcake-capacity.
    “He’s wonderful,” my father says with a solemn gravity. “I am so thankful, every single day, that he came into Carmen’s life. And my life, too. He’s been a blessing. He’s been a true gentleman to your sister—he’s been the son I never had. I am sure that he will also be an excellent brother-in-law to you. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
    I finish off my cupcake, and sigh in contentment. This news is inspiring. Since I returned home, I have been greeted with breathtaking smells, tastes, and heartwarming news. What more could anyone ask for in life? My thoughts return to Liam. I feel so grateful that he convinced me to participate in his research and helped me get back home in time for the wedding. I can’t even remember what I was so terrified about. This is so wonderful. I should have come home ages ago! I can already tell that today is going to be amazing.
    And I can’t wait to see Liam again.
    Something inside my chest flutters a little at the thought, and I feel silly for being so excited. However, it is out of my control now. He said one too many nice things, and I grew just a little too attached to him over the few hours we spent together. While I can strictly enforce my thoughts to be logical and sensible, I cannot keep the girlish giddiness out of my emotions. I blame my childhood home, and the stupid