Coco stopped listening. She’d heard it all before, and the song never changed. Mom refused to give up hope that Coco would suddenly get over being a lesbian and find a man to marry. A man willing to settle for a mediocre, aging woman who’d failed miserably at a foolish dream. When her mother finally wound down, Coco managed to insert a quick apology before making her escape. “Sorry I missed dinner, Mom. I’ll drop by next week, I promise. Bye.” She hung up without giving her mother a chance to respond. It was rude, but she just couldn’t take anymore reassurances that being second best was okay. Not when she was so discouraged.
Coco stared at the jumbled stack of failed designs, and her stomach lurched. What if her mother was right? What if running a bakery and having someone as wonderful a
