“How long does it take you to do that to your hair?”

“Depends on how humid it is,” I told him. He was talking about straightening it. “At least half an hour though. Why? You don’t like it?”

“I like it every way you wear it,” he said with a smile. “Can I sit in the livin’ room and watch?”

I nodded.

“It won’t make you nervous?”

“I don’t get nervous anymore doing this. I’m just self-conscious about watching my vlogs in front of other people.” Lifting my hand, I booped him on the tip of his nose. “And, Snack Pack, I used to fart in front of you. I don’t think I could get nervous in front of you if I tried. I’m sorry.”

He laughed. “And you used to blame Boogie for it.”

It was my turn to laugh. “There’s more deli meat in the fridge. Just help me get my lighting right first, would you?”

“You got it. Whatever you need.”

Between the two of us, it took about half an hour to get the lighting right. He went poking around at my windows, and I had to explain why there was paper stuck to them. Then we adjusted the camera, and I had him stand at the island to make sure there weren’t any weird shadows. If I’d been by myself, it would’ve taken a lot longer. Zac moved around into the living room, propping himself up on the couch, facing the back of it—into the kitchen area—on his knees, forearms resting on it while he peeked over.

“Are you good?” I asked, giving him a thumbs-up as I hit the record button on my camera and started to walk around the island to get into place.

“I’m good,” he called out as he finished settling in.

All right.

I wasn’t nervous, I reminded myself as I took a deep breath in and then another one out. It was like stepping into a personality with a lot less baggage than I had. I had built this business up on my own and had to believe in myself. I was capable. I was smart. And I could do this.

I focused on the camera and started. “Hello, Lazy Bakers! I’ve got a special recipe on the menu today that I’m really hoping goes well. Today, I’m going to be trying my best to make an orange cranberry pound cake right in time for—”

“Ooh,” Zac cooed from his spot on the couch.

Shit.

I blinked straight ahead at the camera and could feel my mouth starting to twitch.

Keep it together. Keep it together.

I closed my eyes and snorted, reopening them and glancing up at the ceiling. “Okay, I need to start over.”

I was still looking up when I heard my old friend ask, “Could you hear me?”

I snickered and couldn’t help but grin at the innocently smiling face still in place, hovering over the back of the couch. “Yeah, you made me laugh. It’s fine. I’ll start over.”

“Oopsie.”

“Oopsie my ass. Okay. I’ll start over real quick.” I walked around the island and headed toward my camera to delete the recording.

“I like how you start each video,” Zac called out while I was busy. “You sound nice, darlin’. Your kitchen looks real great.”

“Yeah? One day I’d like to rent a studio to film in, but I think this is good enough for now.”

“It’s more than good enough to me.” There was a pause. “Is that Mama Lupe’s apron?”

I turned around to look at him, surprised—when I shouldn’t have been—and said, “Yeah. You remember it?”

He nodded, his expression turning pretty bittersweet. “She didn’t wear it that often, only on holidays.”

“Yeah. It was always my favorite,” I admitted, suddenly missing my abuelita a ton. “Like… magic was going to happen when she put it on.” I looked down and smoothed my hands down the front of the checkered orange apron that had three colorful stitched flowers right on the corner of my chest. I washed it by hand when it needed it. “It makes me feel like she’s close to me when I do this, like she’d be proud.” Glancing up, I found Zac’s mouth edging upward into a little smile.

He nodded. “Yeah, Little Texas, she’d be real proud of you. She’d love knowing you wore it.” He sighed. “She’d be real proud of you with all this.”

Lifting a shoulder, I smiled at him. “Thanks, Big Texas.”

“I sure do miss her.”

His words squeezed my damn heart. “I miss her so much too,” I admitted. “All the time.” Then I turned around and hit the record button again. “All right, I’m going to cry. Let me start over again first.”

“Got it. I’ll be quiet.”

I gave him another thumbs-up and headed around the island to stop in place. I took another deep breath, closed my eyes, and then reopened them before pushing my shoulders back and starting again. “Hi, Lazy Bakers! Today I’ve got a special idea I want to try. Orange pound cake!”

His voice came from the living room. “I thought you were makin’ orange cranberry pound cake?”

I stopped talking and lifted my gaze to land on Zac’s smiling face around the edge of the camera directly in front of me. “I am. Damn it. Okay, screw it, let me start again.”

“You can do it,” he cheered me on.

I smiled, shook it off, and then focused again. I could do this. Okay. I’ll just go with it. Delete it later. “Hello, Lazy Bakers! I’ve got a real special idea I want to try today. We’re going to be making cranberry pound cake!”

“Orange cranberry pound cake,” Zac piped up again.

I closed my mouth. “Shit!”

“You know you’re real good at this, darlin’. It’s a long name. A whole mouthful. Orange cranberry pound cake,” he tried to appease me while I wanted to smack myself for screwing up the name of it again.

“Last time, damn it. I’m not starting over again,” I claimed, going back around the island and deleting the recording and starting again. “You’re distracting me. I can’t remember the last time I had to start over this many times.”

“Mama’s said the same thing plenty of times.”

“I’m sure she has. I’m sure she hasn’t been the only one either.”

His silence told me he was thinking about it. “Yeah, you’re right. She’s not.”

I snickered. “Okay, I’m starting again.” Behind the counter, I stopped. “All right. No stopping. I can do this.”

“You can do anything, Little Texas,” my friend said with a serious nod from where he was still on the couch. “One take, you got this.”

“One take, I got this.” I shook my shoulders, pressed my lips together, held my head up high, and went back into it. “Hey, Lazy Bakers! Today, I’ve got a special idea I want to try just in time for the fall! Orange cranberry pound cake!”

“Nailed it,” Zac whispered.

Shit. I started laughing. “Damn it, Zac!”

“What’d I do? Was I that loud? Could you hear me? I’m gettin’ real into this. You’re so professional. Everything is so nice. I think I’m a little jealous CJ got to do this before me.”

His words hugged my heart, and I had to pause. I’d genuinely thought he’d offered to participate just to be nice. “Zac, do you want to be in it?”