by Olivia Miles
Or maybe they would be the ones to move out, and Maddie would be the one to stay, take over the larger owner’s unit above. Matt was renovating his old childhood home—surely he’d want to keep it.
Either way, change was inevitable. Life kept moving along, even when you didn’t want it to. The changing of the leaves on the great, big tree was proof of that.
When she’d finished her coffee and finalized her menu for the opening week, she decided that she couldn’t put things off anymore. The furniture was being delivered today—the last items on her once daunting checklist—and she had to sign for it.
She changed into a warm sweater and jeans. Pulled her hair into a ponytail. The sky looked a little threatening, so she grabbed an umbrella, but still she rode her bike to the bakery, her eyes tearing against the harsh wind blowing off the lake, or maybe the tears were from something else. Disappointment. Heartache.
Outside the bakery, there was no sign of Cole’s truck, and Maddie didn’t know whether to be relieved or let down. She checked her watch, noting that it was later than she’d expected. Perhaps he’d gone to lunch already. Perhaps he’d be back soon.
But when she walked into the bakery and flicked on the lights, she knew at once that Cole wasn’t coming back at all.
His ladder was no longer propped in the corner, carefully angled against the wall. His toolbox was no longer resting beside it. The job was complete and any evidence that Cole had ever been a part of this endeavor had been swept up and washed away, wiped clean.
It was the fresh start she had longed for, only it no longer felt like the beginning of something. It felt like the end of something.
The sconces were lit, the floorboards were polished. The great big chalkboard hung over the counter, waiting for her to climb up on a stepstool and add the weekly and daily specials. The glass countertop was gleaming, the polished wood surface waiting to be filled with her daily sweets. There would be pies and brownies and cookies and cakes, and seasonal specials, too. There would be warmth and spices and smells so powerful that no one would be able to resist and everyone would struggle to decide, and promise to come back again. She’d have regulars. They’d have their regular tables. She’d learn to know everyone’s favorites, just like Amelia did next door. She’d know what sold best and what wasn’t worth making the following week.
She’d know what to do. She hadn’t believed it, until now, standing in her beautiful bakery. Her vision was complete.
She’d done it, she thought, for one, heart-pounding moment. She’d actually done it!
But that wasn’t exactly true, she knew. They’d done it. She and Cole. She couldn’t have done it without him.
With a heavy heart, she began unpacking the boxes of cake stands and mismatched tea cups and saucers hand-painted with flowers and birds and butterflies. The shelf that lined the back wall of the counter was soon homey and colorful, and Maddie wished that Cole was here to see it. That she could share this moment with someone. That she could share it with him.
Instead, she pressed on. Pulled her menu list from her file and dragged the stepstool from the closet, careful not to scratch any of her shining hardwood planks as she set it up. She climbed to the top step, her chalk marker in hand, almost afraid to mar the surface, even though she knew that was silly. At the café she always added the specials. Amelia always told her she had lovely handwriting.
With one breath for courage and another glance at the general design she had sketched out on the paper, she got to work, drawing swirls and a pie, a cupcake in another corner, and the simple menu, one that she would grow over time.
She was just stepping off the ladder to admire her work, when Maddie turned at the sound of tires crunching over gravel, her heart speeding up.
“Cole,” she breathed. Maybe he had come back. Maybe the work wasn’t finished. Maybe he realized that she still hadn’t given him his final payment.
Maybe he was coming back to apologize. To say he had changed his mind.
Only it wasn’t Cole at all. With a sinking heart, Maddie watched the furniture delivery truck pull to a stop and two men hop out of the front cab. She’d been eager for this furniture since she’d placed the order, knowing that it would be the final finishing of her vision. That once it was set up, the bakery would be complete.
Only right now, everything felt wrong, and empty, even though it was all finished, and it was really, all so right. It had come together. She didn’t know how, but it had.
Except that she did know why.
Because of Cole.
*
Maddie stood in a sea of furniture, set in the corner, nearest the door, the tables pushed together, the chairs stacked and scattered. Her pristine new bakery suddenly felt like a complete mess again, in every possible way.
“Yoohoo!”
Maddie turned to see Candy pushing through the tarp that still hung over the doorway to the café, until she was officially opened. She froze for a moment, realizing that when she and Amelia had first come up with the idea to join the two establishments, Candy had not been a member of Amelia’s staff.
And even then, Maddie had assumed it was a temporary arrangement.
But Candy was right at home at the café, as she was at their father’s house, and now Maddie bit back the creeping fear that she would soon be as permanent a fixture at the bakery as the sign over the front door.
Candy’s eyes swept over the place dramatically and she held her hands to her mouth, shielding her smile.
Despite the source, Maddie felt herself swell with pride.
“You like it?” She’d considered inviting her family all over together, for a true unveiling this weekend after the market, but seeing as Amelia and Candy were next door most days, that was probably never going to be a realistic option.
Really, Maddie realized that she should be surprised Candy had managed to restrain herself from barging in sooner.
“Like it?” Candy’s eyes were round. “This is gorgeous, Maddie! Absolutely stunning! I love the wall color.”
“That was Cole’s doing,” Maddie said, hating the hurt crept into her tone at the mere mention of his name. “Well, he provided the options.”
“But you chose the color?” Candy grinned. “You have excellent taste. But then, I’m not surprised. Still, it’s even prettier than I pictured.”
Maddie felt her stance soften. The compliment was genuine, straight from Candy’s heart, and she was starting to see what her father and even Amelia saw in the woman. Candy was happy for her.
Just like her mother would have been.
“Where is Cole today?” Candy asked as casually as she could muster. But the inquisitive look to her gaze was telling.
Maddie sighed. She’d have to shut down Candy’s hopes, along with her own.
“He’s not here at the moment. I…I think he’s finished with the job.”
“You think?” Candy stared at her, confused. “Did you give him his final check?”
“Not yet.” She didn’t know how to handle that part. They hadn’t discussed it. And Cole was professional and a gentleman enough not to stand around waiting for it. He either knew she was good for it, or he knew where to find her.
Either way, it meant that he trusted her. She didn’t know whether to find comfort or sadness in this fact. There weren’t many people in town he trusted, she knew.
“Well, then I’m sure he’ll be back,” Candy insisted.
Maddie pushed one of the chairs toward the corner of the room. “Or I can drop the check off at his house this weekend. Put it in his mailbox.”
“Well, I live right there,” Candy said, and then, catching herself, she said, “I mean, that I’m always there. With your father. I can drop off the check today. I’m happy to help.”
Maddie had visions of Candy rapping on Cole’s front door, barging in, settling onto the sofa for a nice long chat.
She shook her head. “Thanks, Candy, but I think you’ve helped enough.”
She k
new from the hurt in Candy’s eyes that she had crossed a line.
She dropped her eyes, sighing. “I’m sorry, Candy. It’s just that…I know you sent Cole here for reasons other than helping me set up the bakery.”
Candy attempted to feign innocence for a moment, but quickly realized she wouldn’t get away with it. “Can you blame me, honey? I see this cute, smart, creative, young woman, and I think…here’s a nice, good-looking, single guy. Why not try?”
“But I never said I was looking for love,” Maddie pointed out.
Candy dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “Please! Who isn’t looking for love?”
“Cole, for starters,” Maddie said. She dropped onto one of the chairs, pleased to find that it was quite comfortable. There wasn’t any satisfaction in winning this argument with Candy. Cole wasn’t interested in love. And he wasn’t interested in her.
“Well, now, I saw the two of you together!” Candy said, frowning in concern. She quickly pulled up another chair, close to Maddie. “You seemed to be really hitting it off.”
“We were,” Maddie admitted. “But…he’s closed off. Doesn’t want to let anyone in. Never did. Never will.”
“People say that,” Candy said, dismissing the notion with a wave of her hand. “People even think that. But when the right person comes along, everything changes. Look at your father and me!”
Maddie considered this. It was true that her father had seemed closed off to the idea of love after losing his wife. He’d been alone for over a decade, and might have been that way forever, if he hadn’t fallen off that ladder last spring and needed a caretaker.
But there was one telling difference between her situation and theirs. “I don’t think I’m the right person for Cole.”
“You really believe that?” Candy asked.
Maddie sighed. “Truth be told, I don’t think I do believe it. But it doesn’t matter what I say. Cole’s closed off his heart to this town. He’s not willing to give anything about it a chance. Or anyone.” She glanced at Candy. “He’s planning to leave town first chance he has. Doesn’t want to get involved.”
“Ah.” Candy gave a knowing smile. “Meaning he doesn’t want anyone coming along and changing his mind.”
Maddie wasn’t sure that she liked where this was headed. It was common knowledge that Candy didn’t take no for an answer lightly.
“I think his mind is made up,” Maddie said firmly. “He’s had this planned for a long time now.”
“And then you come along and make him start thinking that leaving this town won’t be as easy as he thought it would be.” Candy’s eyes gleamed as she nodded her head.
Uh-oh. This had all the hallmarks of a plan being hatched. Maddie knew that look. All too well. Come to think of it, it was the very same look that Candy had at their last family dinner.
“No, Candy.” Maddie shook her head. “No more plans. No more schemes. The man has made up his mind, and I respect that. His mother is very sick. This town has nothing but bad memories for him. I should know how that feels.”
Candy’s expression softened, but something told Maddie that her stance hadn’t.
“Sometimes you have to ask yourself if you’re willing to be stuck in the past forever, or if you want to move forward. It sounds to me like Cole has some soul searching to do, and he might not have had to think about any of this until very recently.”
Maddie knew this was probably true. That he wouldn’t have kissed her if he didn’t care.
“Now, you may find this hard to believe, but I’m not one to sit back and let things just…happen. Makes me crazy, really, when there’s something I could be doing instead!”
Oh no. Maddie opened her mouth to protest, but Candy just patted her knee. “But in this case, my girl, I think the best thing you can do is nothing.”
Maddie balked at her. “Really?”
“You just focus on your lovely bakery, here. You worked hard to make this happen and you deserve to enjoy it.”
Maddie gave a weak smile. “Thanks, Candy, I needed to hear that.” After all, the entire point of even opening this bakery was to think about her future, and to honor her mother. She didn’t want to feel like it was tainted by her time with Cole.
She’d rather it be a testament to the fact that good things could always come about from the worst things you’d lived through.
“But there is one thing I can do,” Candy said with a gleam in her eye.
Maddie felt her trepidation build again. Warily, she asked, “What’s that?”
“Celebrate your opening! What’s better than a Sunday family dinner?” She blinked rapidly. “I mean….Sunday dinner?”
Maddie reached over and squeezed Candy’s hand. “A Sunday family dinner sounds like exactly what I need right now.”
*
Cole found his mother sitting at the kitchen table when he came downstairs the next morning, later than usual, and only because he had been up the night before, tinkering in the garage, mostly moving old boxes around and organizing his tools. It was always his hideaway place. The place he’d first come with his father, back when he would watch him work, when it was the one place where his father seemed at ease, and almost happy, even if it was just showing him how to sand down a rough edge on a board. Later, it was the place he came to think about his father. Eventually, it became the one place he could come that was all his own.
He knew people in town talked, wondered why a man his age still lived at home. That was none of their business, and he’d intended to keep it that way. Until Maddie came along.
He pushed her immediately out of his thoughts. The coffee was already brewing and his mother seemed to have more energy than usual. It was one of her good days. A day when he should breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that for a few hours, he might not have to worry—too much.
Instead, he noted the frown in her forehead and uneasily reached for a mug.
“I was starting to wonder if I should wake you,” his mother said. A little smile appeared on her lips. “Remember how I used to have to flick the lights to get you out of bed?”
“When I was, like, ten,” he replied, but he, too, smiled.
“Never did like going to school,” she said with a sigh.
He lifted his eyebrows, turning from her to lift the coffee pot. “No, I suppose I didn’t.” It wasn’t the work that bothered him. It was everything else. The reminder that he was different. That he didn’t fit in. And that he wanted to. He just wanted to be ordinary, like everyone else. A kid with a dad who actually loved him.
That he wasn’t different. Or alone. Except that somewhere along the way, he’d made sure to be alone. Told himself it was better if he chose it, rather than accepted it.
“But then, I never minded having you here,” she said, no doubt referring to all the times she’d quietly accepted his excuse of having a headache or stomachache to get out of some class party or school event—field trips or other bonding experiences that most other kids looked forward to every year—and called in his absence.
“Good, because I’m all yours today,” Cole said. He filled his mug to the rim, knowing he’d need the caffeine. “I’ll run into town for groceries, and then I thought I’d get a start on that painting I promised you.”
“You don’t have to go into the bakery today?” his mother asked.
“Job’s done,” Cole said tightly.
There was no denying the shadow of disappointment that fell over his mother’s face when he joined her at the table. “Oh. Did it already open?” she asked, glancing at him.
He didn’t meet her eye as he drank his coffee. “Tuesday is the opening day, I believe.” Maddie had explained that like her sister’s café next door, the establishment would be closed on Mondays.
He couldn’t help but feel nervous for Maddie, knowing it would be big day for her, one that he might have liked to support, had things turned out differently.
He shook off that thought. No sense in going down that path again. M
addie was a sweet person. One of the sweetest he’d met, other than his mother. There was no sense in dragging her down with him. She had a bright future ahead of her. And he…
He didn’t know what he had anymore. Maybe, he never did.
“Well, better get to it while the weather holds,” he said, sliding back his chair. Through the window, he could see clouds forming in the grey, autumn sky.
“Why are you so insistent on painting this house?” his mother asked. “It looks fine just as it is.”
Cole rinsed his mug and set it on the rack to dry.
“The paint is chipping, Mom,” he said. It looked tired. It looked mildly neglected. It looked like the house of a family who had other things going on. Bad things.
It spoke the truth. And he…he was trying to cover it up. Deny it. Push it away. Like always. Even when he was a kid, he was forever trying to hide the obvious. When that failed, put up the front. Once he got big enough, he started tending to the house. If there was nothing worth talking about, then maybe people would leave him alone. And maybe, eventually, he’d forget.
“I thought it would make you smile,” he said, feeling the tightness in his throat. “I’m just freshening things up.”
“And here I thought you were fixing it up to sell,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
His hand stilled on the doorknob. He took a moment, considering his words. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her. To let her down. His father had done enough of that for the both of them. “Mom. You know that I have nothing for me in this town but you.”
She gave a little shrug, but her eyes were sad. “I think you should sell,” she surprised him by saying. “You’ve given up a lot of time taking care of me, Cole.”
“You’re my mother!” he ground out, but she just held up a hand, silencing him.
“And you’re my son.” She gave him a stern look. One he hadn’t seen since his grade school days, when she returned from yet another meeting at the school to discuss his poor performance, the need to maybe repeat a year. He’d hated the defeated and weary look in her eyes back then as much as he did now. And yet again, he vowed he would do better, for her, and this time, he was old enough to keep that promise.
