by Gale Deitch
“A donut? We just had a huge breakfast. I haven’t even digested it yet,” he said as we got into his car.
“Then drop me off at Jennifer Hall’s coffee shop. I’ve got business to discuss with her. Zach’s going to meet me there.”
“Okay. I’ll stop by to see her later when I can ask a few questions about those goons—and when my stomach isn’t so full. What happens when you’re done at the coffee shop?”
“I just have to stop by Maybelline’s. Zach will walk me down there and wait. Then he’ll drive me to the office.”
“Okay. You’ve got a new phone now, so be sure to check in with me when you leave the coffee shop and when you leave Maybelline’s.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, saluting.
Two waitresses stood behind the counter, neither of them the one who’d waited on us the other night. About half of the tables were filled with the late breakfast crowd. I told the cashier my name and she pointed the way to the kitchen.
Zach had already arrived and was seated on a bar stool at the white marble island in the center of the kitchen. Jennifer, wearing a white chef’s jacket and a pink paisley scarf tied around her hair, was removing a tray of pinwheeled cinnamon buns from the oven.
“Hi, Trudie. Be with you in a moment. Just need to drizzle the icing on top. Have a seat.”
I joined Zach on the stool next to him, and inhaled deeply. “That smells heavenly, Jennifer. My name’s written all over one of those buns.”
“Save one for me too, would you?” Zach asked.
Jennifer laughed, plopping the tray right down in front of us then pouring us all mugs of coffee. “Don’t eat too much. I’ve got several other items for you to sample.”
“This is a great coffee shop,” I said, pulling a hot bun from the tray and dropping it onto my plate. “How long have you owned it?”
“About five years. I worked as the baker here before that, but the owner couldn’t handle keeping open twenty-four seven. Grueling hours, too many pressures.” She frowned.
I wondered if one of those pressures might have been visits from those goons to extort money and would have loved to ask her about it now. But I hadn’t told Zach about this additional threat at Maybelline’s and had no plans to tell him.
“You bought him out?” I wondered how she could afford this place on a baker’s salary.
“I gave him a down payment, send him a percentage of the profits each month, and he’s living a comfortable retirement in Florida. I should own the place in ten years.”
“It must be expensive to keep a place like this running, with the rent, salaries, supplies, upkeep.” I took a bite of the cinnamon bun, inhaling its fragrance and watched Jennifer closely for a reaction to my comment.
Instead of responding, she turned her back to me and busied herself at a back counter filled with platters of fresh-baked items. “So tell me what you’re looking for, Trudie.”
“Zach and I could use some stand-out baked goods in our repertoire at A Fine Fix. I’m a trained chef, and Zach can hold his own making just about anything. But our desserts consist mainly of items like poached pears, flan, and crème brulee. We need some delicious breads and cakes and pastries.”
“We purchase our breads from high-end bakeries,” Zach added, “which is definitely not cost-effective. If we could hook up with a talented baker, it would add another element to our service.”
Jennifer brought over a variety of rolls and breads, cakes, pies and cookies and cut them into small portions for us to sample. Each was outstanding in its own way, the breads flaky or buttery or crusty and the cakes multi-layered and moist. It was difficult even to choose a favorite.
“We’re also starting to cater weddings,” I said. “Have you done wedding cakes?”
Jennifer held up her index finger, walked across the room and pulled an album off the shelf. She set it on the table and began to turn the pages. “I’ve baked a few wedding cakes in my time.” The photos were incredible, each cake unique and perfect. “I try to give each bride exactly what she wants on her wedding day.”
Zach glanced up from the album. “I want to learn how to do that. Do you give lessons?”
“I could.” She turned to me. “What’s the verdict on my products?”
Zach and I exchanged a glance and a nod, and I said, “I think you’re guilty of making the best baked goods I’ve ever tasted. Are you interested in partnering with us?”
“Would that involve a lot of extra time on my part?”
“Not necessarily. We would most likely consult with you on each catering job to see how it could be enhanced with a particular kind of bread or dessert. Then the day before or the day of the event, most likely you’d be here baking anyway. We would pick up the order. No delivery necessary. Just send us your bill.”
Jennifer retrieved the coffee pot and refilled everyone’s cup. “And what if you need a wedding cake? I’d have to meet with the bride once or twice. It takes quite a few hours to decorate a wedding cake.”
“Of course, your invoice will reflect those hours of labor and the intricacies of the design. And I would be happy to help,” Zach said. “On-the-job training.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want you practicing on my brides’ cakes, but I can get you up to speed.”
“Does that mean you’ll work with us?” I asked.
She extended her hand and we shook on it. “Work up a contract that’s fair, and I’ll be happy to help out.”
AS PROMISED, I phoned Stu to let him know Zach was walking with me the one block to May’s restaurant. “I need some private time with Katie. Zach’s going to wait for me in the catering van until I call for him to pick me up.”
“Not sure that’s a good idea, Trudie. Someone should be with you at all times. I’m heading back.”
“Stu, nothing is going to happen in the restaurant. Hardly anyone is there this early in the morning.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, and I don’t think you should be there alone.”
I turned to Zach standing beside me in front of Maybelline’s and rolled my eyes in exasperation. “Zach, will you tell him there’s nothing to worry about?”
I held out my cell phone to him and he took it. “Hi, Stu. It’s Zach. Listen, it’s pretty quiet here. I’ll stick my head in the door first before she goes in. My van’s parked right across the street. I can see anyone who goes in or out. I think it’ll be okay.”
Zach listened a moment, then said goodbye and handed me my phone.
“Well?” I asked.
“He says he’ll trust my judgment. So go ahead. Speak to Katie and then we’ll get going. As I told Stu, I’ll keep an eye on the front door from the van.” Zach opened the door for me and checked the dining room.
It was still early, and I knew May wouldn’t have arrived yet. But sure enough, I spotted Katie sitting on a stool talking to one of the bartenders. I waved Zach off and sat down next to her at the bar.
“Isn’t May coming in today?” she asked me. “I thought you were done here.”
“You sound disappointed. But yes, May will be in. Actually, I stopped by to speak with you. I have an idea I want to run by you.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Just hear me out. Why don’t we go into May’s office?”
When Katie and I entered the kitchen, Gina was lighting a cigarette and heading out the back door. She nodded to me. “Good morning,” she said in that flat tone of hers that often left me wondering what was going through her head.
I was surprised to see an empty kitchen. “Where’s Gus this morning?”
Gina inhaled and blew a stream of smoke outside just as she stepped out the door. “Made a quick run to the fish market. No red snapper in today’s delivery.”
I led Katie into the office and closed the door. I sat in May’s chair and motioned her to the seat beside the desk.
“Katie, I don’t want you to feel I’m prying into your life, but the other day you told me your parents were upset with yo
ur pregnancy and wanted you to sign adoption papers. Is that still true?”
Her face reddened, and she nodded, peering down at her lap.
“And if you don’t sign the papers?” I prompted.
Katie continued to avoid my eyes. “I told you. Basically, they won’t pay for art school or my living expenses. I’ll pretty much be out on the street.”
“So what have you decided to do?”
She glanced up at me and frowned, shaking her head. “I told them they could kiss my ass.” I was taken aback by her words. I’d never heard this normally sweet, soft-spoken young woman speak this way. “I’m keeping this baby. It’s the only thing I have left of Micah, and I’m not giving it up for some other family to raise. This baby is mine.”
“So where will you live if they don’t pay your expenses?”
Katie’s eyes were moist, but she kept her composure. “I have no idea. I’ll probably bunk with friends. Although once the baby is born, I don’t know where we’ll go. If only Micah was here, he’d find a way.”
“I have an idea,” I said quietly. “A place you might stay.”
She opened her eyes wide, “Where?”
“With May.”
“With May? With my boss? She would never agree to that.”
“I think she would agree. First of all, May thinks of you like a daughter. She knows how much you loved Micah. If you tell her you’re carrying his baby, nothing would make her happier than having you stay with her to take care of you. And the baby.”
Katie continued to shake her head. “I don’t believe that. May wouldn’t want me to stay at her house. I’m just a server in her restaurant, not a relative.”
“But your baby is a relative. And you need her to help you with the pregnancy and the baby. But she needs you more.”
“Needs me for what? Why?”
“To stay out of jail. The only reason the judge let her out on bail was because I agreed to live with her. But as much as I love May, I’m not sure I can make it living at her house until the trial’s over. She needs someone with her for the long haul.” I took Katie’s hands. “And that’s you, Katie. You can help her.”
“I don’t know. I’d like to help May. Do you really think…wait a minute.” Katie lifted her head and sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?”
I inhaled and smelled it, too. It was…it was smoke. Something was burning.
At that moment, the smoke detector sounded.
Katie and I both stood in alarm. I looked frantically around the office to find where the smoke was coming from and ran to open the door. “Ouch,” I yelped, yanking my hand off the doorknob. “The knob is hot. I better not open the door. There must be a fire in the kitchen.”
Wisps of gray swirled through the space at the bottom of the door. I spun around, searching for something, anything to block the smoke that was seeping into the office. Spotting a knitted throw draped over a chair, I grabbed it, fell to my knees and stuffed it into the opening as best I could. But by that time, dark sheets of smoke had begun to invade and hover in the air all around us.
“Call nine-one-one,” I yelled to Katie as I scurried to the window.
The solid rectangle of glass that looked out into the alley, not much bigger than my bedroom window at May’s house, didn’t seem to have a latch or panel to slide or any way to get it open. Even if I could get it open, the security bars covering the exterior of the window would prevent our escape. But somehow I had to get fresh air into the room.
Peering around for a useful object, I grabbed the chair that Katie had been using, picked it up and swung it into the window. The chair leg hit the window sill and bounced back at me.
I pulled it back and then swung the chair again, harder. It made contact with the window this time but still not hard enough to break the glass.
C’mon, Trudie, I thought. You’ve got to do this and do it now. One more time I swung the chair with all my strength, emitting a loud, guttural roar, slamming the chair into the window and finally, shattering the glass.
Okay. We wouldn’t be getting out that way, but at least we were getting rid of some of the smoke.
I turned to Katie who stood helpless, the phone receiver dangling from her hand. She shook her head. “The line is dead.”
My new cell phone, I thought. I rummaged frantically through my purse until I retrieved it and dialed. “Fire,” I yelled when the line was answered. “Fire at Maybelline’s restaurant on U Street. We’re locked in the back office. Help. Come quick.”
The open window seemed to be drawing more smoke into the room, seeping in through the sides and top of the door. Katie began choking and gasping for air. I grabbed her shoulders and dropped us both to the floor, cushioning her fall with my body. Then I held her head down low where there was still air to breathe.
Katie turned to me, her eyes red and glistening, and mouthed, “My baby.”
My throat burned, but I leaned into Katie and whispered. “It’s okay, honey. The fire department is on its way.”
As we lay on the floor facing each other, I ran my fingers gently through her hair. We heard the sirens approaching. “Soon,” I whispered. “Very soon.”
A moment later, we heard the commotion of fire fighters outside in the alley, the blows of their axes against the security grate and along the wood trim of the window frame, the shouting of instructions and muffled voices on their two-way radios, the loud swishing of the water hoses showering the building.
Perspiration ran from my scalp down my face and neck as the temperature in the room rose, and Katie coughed and gagged from the intensifying smoke. Her eyelids fluttered and then closed just as the fire fighters broke through the wall and into the room.
“Quick. Get her outside for some air,” I managed a gravelly whisper, my throat raw and burning. “She’s pregnant. Careful with her.”
One of the men nodded and lifted her into his arms. “I’ve got her. We’ve got you both.”
For a moment, I panicked. How were they going to pick me up? I was no lightweight like Katie. Then the second man grunted as he hoisted me over his shoulder in one swift movement and carried me outside and down the alley to a waiting ambulance.
I coughed and sputtered and inhaled with effort, trying to pull clean air into my lungs as the fireman set me down onto a stretcher. The last thing I remembered was an EMT hovering above me and placing an oxygen mask over my face.
DANIEL RUSHED INTO my cubicle in the ER, sat down next to my bed and grabbed my hand. “Trudie, how do you feel?” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.
“My throat burns a little,” I said in a hoarse voice. “And my hip is bruised from dropping us to the floor, but I’m okay. How’s Katie and--?”
“And what?” he asked.
I frowned. I’d never mentioned Katie’s pregnancy to anyone. As far as I knew, besides her parents, Gina was the only other person who knew about it. I’d always felt it was up to Katie to tell who she wanted and when. But this was Daniel, and I’d already hidden enough from him.
“And her baby. She’s pregnant, with Micah’s baby.”
“Micah’s baby.” He raised his eyebrows, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. “The doctor mentioned she was pregnant, but I didn’t know who the father was.” He squeezed my hand. “It seems Katie will be fine, but…they’re not sure yet about the baby.”
My stomach skittered. “When will they know?”
“They’re running some tests. Should know something in an hour or two.” He saw the worry on my face. “Look, Trudie. It’s thanks to you and your quick thinking, getting down low to the floor where the air was cleaner, that all three of you are alive.”
I closed my eyes. I was so tired. Daniel bent down and kissed my forehead. “Sleep, baby. Sleep.”
“You’ll let me know about the baby when there’s news?”
“As soon as we hear,” he said. “Now sleep.”
WHEN I WOKE, Zach sat on one side of the bed and Stu on the other.
“What’s all this?” I asked, my voice still gravelly and sore.
“It’s your two supposed protectors,” Stu said, “groveling for your forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness? For what?”
“For what?” Zach shifted in his seat and ran a hand through his curly hair. “For believing you would be safe alone in that restaurant, for leaving you unprotected to fend for yourself.”
Stu shook his head. “I never should have left your side, Trudie. I’m so sorry.”
I looked back and forth between the two of them and held out both my hands to take theirs. “No need to apologize, neither of you. Who could have predicted something like that would happen? Even if you’d been sitting in the restaurant dining room, you wouldn’t have been able to put out the fire by yourselves or to get through those flames to try to save us.”
“Maybe not. Nevertheless, we should have been there, waiting in the kitchen for you,” Stu said. “I told Daniel he needs to fire me as your bodyguard and find someone more competent.”
I glanced at the entrance to my cubicle. “Where is Daniel?”
“At Maybelline’s investigating with the fire department authorities. Angry as a hornet and determined to find the culprit who set that fire and tried to kill you two.”
Us three, I corrected in my head. “Why do they think it was arson?” I asked. “Couldn’t it have been an innocent kitchen fire?”
Zach shook his head. “They hadn’t even started cooking yet for the lunch service. This had to be foul play.”
I thought about the few people I’d seen at the restaurant that morning. Gus hadn’t come in yet, which was unusual for him. But Gina was there. Gina, lighting her cigarette and going out to the alley to smoke.
I glanced at Stu. “Has May been contacted about the fire?”
“Of course. She was here earlier but didn’t want to wake you. So she went to Maybelline’s to check out the damage and meet with the insurance agent. She said she’ll be back later to see you and Katie.”
Katie. And the baby. My stomach began to churn again. The baby had to be all right. Katie had already lost Micah and the support of her parents. She couldn’t lose this baby.
