Raspberry Kisses (The Bakery Romance Series Book 1)

by Cecelia Dowdy

  She scanned the faces of the children. None of them looked familiar. Who were they? Approaching the register, she was about to take charge and tell them to quiet down when two young women came in behind the children. One of them placed her index finger and her thumb to her mouth, blowing an ear-piercing whistle into the air. “Quiet!”

  The deafening noise settled into a gentle whisper. Thank goodness! Her ears couldn’t stand the noise much longer. The whistle-blowing woman approached the counter. “Sorry about the noise. We’re on our way home from Bible camp and our bus broke down. This was the only place open so early.”

  What a mess. The kids looked like they were elementary-school aged, and several of them had already started fidgeting, as if they were restless. “Did you need some help? You’re welcome to use my phone and there’s an auto-body shop down the street, but, they don’t open until nine.”

  The woman’s dark frizzy curls swayed while she shook her head. “That’s kind of you to offer, but, I already called the bus rental company and they’re sending a replacement. The replacement bus should be here in about an hour or so.” She gestured toward the kids. “We’re going to get something to eat. Everybody has their own money.”

  Wow! Nice to have the extra business, but, now she wouldn’t be able to spend the day alone. She needed to place her business first, but, this was the anniversary of Stan’s death. Now she wouldn’t be able to spend the day reminiscing about her marriage.

  “Candy, could you go and start some more donuts?” There was no way they’d have enough to feed this hungry crowd as well as her regular customers. Rhea poured hot coffee for the two ladies, while she waited on the children. Over the next couple of hours, she rang up several orders of donuts. She had cold cartons of milk in the refrigerator, but, she sold out of those in minutes.

  She seldom had to serve so many children at once so she had not been prepared by having enough milk handy. One of the camp counselors took some of the children to the sidewalk outside. The kids bounced around. The sugar in the donuts must be making them act that way.

  When their bus arrived, the children cheered, again filling the bakery with a huge racket. Once they were gone, Rhea dropped into a chair and Candy joined her, bringing two cups of hot coffee and some pastries. She took a sip of coffee before taking a huge bite of the apple pastry. Her stomach growled. She was starving! She’d forgotten all about eating this morning because of their unexpected customers. She glanced at Candy. “I wonder how much money we made this morning.”

  “We probably made a lot.”

  She checked her watch. In about an hour, it’d be lunch time. Should she leave the bakery and spend the rest of the day alone? No, she’d stay until they closed. If she really wanted her business to thrive, she had to make the bakery her priority.

  But, what about Stan?

  “Didn’t you have something you needed to do today?”

  She shook her head. “Not anymore.” She needed to spend this day in the bakery with Candy, running her business.

  Once they’d closed for the day, and tallied the receipts, her heart skipped when Candy revealed they’d made five hundred dollars more than their usual amount.

  Energized by the day’s profit, she drove home, showered, and dressed in a nice pair of jeans and a printed top. Memories of Stan flooded her mind when she opened her drawer, removing a bottle of Stan’s aftershave. She opened the lid and sniffed. The warm enticing scent filled her nose, and she closed her eyes. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Stan were still alive, and he was right here, in this room, holding her in his strong arms? Whimpering, she closed the bottle.

  Stan wasn’t here, and these strong memories flooded her mind. She had to do something. She’d go to their special place. That’s what she’d do. Go to their place so that she could savor the strong memories of her husband.

  After driving for an hour, she finally pulled into the parking lot of the quaint, expensive French restaurant where Stan used to take her for her birthday. Staring at the outdoor wrought-iron tables and bright yellow umbrellas, she recalled sitting there with Stan, sipping lemon spritzers, enjoying French bread, quiche, and mushroom soup.

  The last time they’d eaten there, she’d turned twenty-three. The wait staff had ended their meal with a small vanilla birthday cake topped with three glowing candles. She’d blown the candles out, overwhelmed with happiness while Stan gave her a gentle smile, his large blue eyes sparkling with warmth.

  He’d pulled her into his arms and hugged her, tight. Stan had always been like that, affectionate in public. He didn’t care who saw them. “You’re my wife and you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. I want everybody to know that you’re mine.” He’d whispered those words in her ear before he finally released her, cupping her chin, kissing her deeply.

  She’d felt so giddy, so happy, so free. In spite of his family’s rejection and the congregation’s attitude, she found herself not caring about other people’s opinions at that moment. As they’d cut into the cake, feeding bites to one another, Rhea knew that all the trials and stuff she’d gone through were worth it. She had Stan, and that was all that mattered.

  She swiped her tears away, returning to the moment. Should she go inside for a late dinner? One of the wait staff stepped onto the patio, and Rhea recognized him. She closed her eyes, sighing. No, she couldn’t make herself go in, couldn’t sit there and cry in her soup, causing worry for the wait staff.

  Besides, she wasn’t hungry, not hungry for food. Hungry for time with Stan, that’s what she really wanted.

  It was what she needed. Their marriage had been cut too short, and now she’d never find out what their lives would’ve been like if Stan had lived. Would she even have her bakery if Stan were alive? Would she still be first lady of his church? Would Stan have continued his pastorship? Yes, Stan had a real, true calling, a heart for God. He would’ve been a pastor for as long as he was able. She sensed her husband’s devotion.

  Stan was in heaven now, but, could he see her? Did Stan know she still suffered from his death? Did people in heaven see their loved ones left behind on this earth? “Stan, do you even realize that I still love you?” Saying the words aloud, she shuddered, gripping her steering wheel.

  There, she’d said it. One reason why she’d never been able to have a relationship, or a date, with a man since Stan’s death was because she’d felt as if she were being unfaithful to him. In her heart, she was still married to Stan.

  The high chirp from her cell phone buzzed, and she wiped her wet eyes, grabbing the phone. “Hi, Taylor.” Her best friend had been on a month-long business trip to Japan, and Rhea had not talked to her since she’d left.

  “Rhea, are you okay. I know this is the anniversary of—”

  “I’m fine.” Her voice wobbled.

  “No, you’re not. I can tell you’re crying.”

  Rhea sniffed, waiting for Taylor to continue. “We haven’t gotten together since I got back. How about I treat you to lunch after church on Sunday? We need to catch up.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.” Rhea ended the call, still staring at the restaurant. Blowing her nose, she leaned back onto the seat. She still missed Stan, and being at this place brought more memories to the surface. Stan’s death filled her with pain, but, being here, focusing on the memories, brought her some pleasure. No, she could not go inside the restaurant, but, maybe she would dine there again, one day.

  *

  “Your sister did what?” Taylor slammed her coffee cup onto the saucer, folding her large arms across her chest. Her dark brown eyes simmered with anger while she focused on Rhea.

  Rhea poured cream and sugar into her coffee, stirring. “Don’t get so riled up.”

  “I can’t help it. Your sister is the biggest idiot I’ve ever known.” Taylor’s loud voice carried throughout the restaurant and several people glanced at their table.

  Rhea leaned toward her friend. “Could you keep your voice down? People are staring at us.”


  Taylor rolled her eyes, before taking another sip of coffee. “I don’t care. Let them look.”

  Rhea had just brought Taylor up to date about her life over the past three weeks.

  Taylor glanced around the restaurant, leaned toward Rhea, lowering her voice. “I think Raven sounds like she belongs in the cuckoo ward at the hospital. Your sister has issues Rhea…major issues.”

  Rhea crossed her legs. “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. Besides, it’s been two years since Stan’s been dead, and now, you deserve some happiness. Martin sounds wonderful. I can’t wait to meet him. So, the two of you are officially dating?”

  Rhea shook her head. “Oh, no. We’re just friends.”

  “What do you mean? You said that you’re attracted to each other. I think the two of you can be more than just friends.”

  “Oh, Taylor. Haven’t you been listening? Martin is a pastor. When Stan got killed, I vowed to never get involved with another pastor, ever again.”

  “Well you need to break that vow. You know what the Lord says about fear.” She took Rhea’s hand and squeezed. “Don’t be afraid. Just let yourself go, let yourself fall in love and be happy with Martin. Maybe God wants you to be with Martin. Have you thought about that? You just need to let yourself fall in love, act on your feelings.”

  Rhea pulled her hand away. Could God want her to be with Martin? Dealing with Raven’s emotional attitude, coupled with Martin’s profession, she’d wondered if that was the Lord’s way of telling her that Martin was off-limits. Maybe she was wrong.

  “Hmm.” Taylor grinned, showing her perfect white teeth. “Seems like I hit a nerve. You’ve been quiet for a few minutes now. I hope you’re thinking about what I said.”

  Rhea shrugged. “I’m thinking about it, but I still have my doubts. Stan wanted to do too much for the church. My husband’s job got him killed.” She gripped the handle of her mug.

  Taylor placed her hand over Rhea’s. “For some reason, sometimes bad things happen to good people. I’ve never been married, so I can’t say I know what you went through, but I’m sure it was extremely traumatic.” She leaned back into the booth, lifting her coffee cup, cradling it in her manicured hands. “Maybe the Lord brought you and Martin together at the singles retreat because He felt it was time for you to move on. Martin could be a blessing, straight from the Lord, and you could be shunning that blessing.”

  Still thinking about Taylor’s advice, Rhea glanced up and spotted Stan’s sister, Mary, going toward the door, apparently leaving. She was escorted by a tall, striking man with dark hair. As if sensing Rhea was watching, Mary turned and their eyes met. She stopped walking, hesitating.

  “Is that who I think it is?” Taylor whispered. She’d only met Mary a few times and Rhea recalled how Taylor hated Mary’s frosty, stand-offish attitude.

  “Yeah, that’s Stan’s sister Mary.”

  Mary grabbed her date’s hand, rushing over to Rhea. “Hi, Rhea.” She nodded toward Taylor. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” Taylor mumbled.

  Mary gestured toward her date. “This is Ron. Ron this is Rhea and…” She turned toward Taylor, her pale skin reddening. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.”

  Taylor smiled, shaking Ron’s hand. “My name’s Taylor.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” said Rhea. He released Taylor’s hand before shaking Rhea’s, smiling warmly. Rhea turned to Mary. “Mary, I just wanted to thank you for that assignment you got for me at the law firm. I really appreciate it.”

  Mary dipped her head. “You’re welcome.”

  Stan’s sister wore a tight, sleeveless ivory dress and again Rhea realized how thin she’d become. Her arms were so bony and her cheeks appeared sunken. Again, she recalled Stan confiding about Mary’s illness, so she said the first thing that popped into her mind. “Did you enjoy your meal?”

  Ron rubbed his jaw, giving Mary a hard look. “Don’t ask her that. She didn’t eat anything. She never eats. She wants me to take her out and when I do, she just drinks coffee.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the time. “The game’s going to start soon. We need to get going.”

  Mary’s pale skin flushed while she turned toward Ron. “I have to stop in the ladies room. I’ll meet you at the car.”

  He mumbled something indecipherable before stalking away.

  Rhea cleared her throat. “Sounds like you’re in a hurry. Don’t let me keep you.”

  Mary pursed her lips, rolling her eyes. Her expression reminded her so much of Stan that Rhea chuckled. “I’m in no hurry to spend time with him. He’s so bossy and self-centered. I doubt I’m going out with him again.”

  “He’s very cute,” Taylor offered.

  “Whatever,” Mary mumbled. She turned toward Rhea. “Do you mind if I speak to you alone?”

  Puzzled, Rhea stood. “We can talk in the ladies’ room if you want.”

  Rhea followed Mary to the ladies’ room. They entered and Mary breathed deeply, leaning against the wall, closing her eyes. The bright lights above the sink made Mary appear pale. She continued her deep breathing, her eyes remaining closed. Was she falling asleep?

  Rhea touched Mary’s shoulder. “Are you okay? You look sick.”

  “I’m fine,” she snapped, opening her eyes. Rhea dropped her hand, took a few steps back. Why was Mary so irritated? She just wanted to help her, especially if she was sick. Besides, Mary had wanted to speak with her, but, she had yet to say anything.

  Mary closed her eyes again, still taking deep breaths. “I’m just so tired. It’s hard to act normal around Ron.”

  Rhea frowned. “What do you mean?” Did Mary want to speak with her about the problems she was having with her love life? When she’d interviewed with Mary at the employment agency, their meeting at ended on a somewhat positive note. Perhaps Mary needed a friend, and she felt that Rhea would be a good confidante.

  “I’m just so tired all the time. Ron hates it when I complain about being fatigued.” She bit her lower lip. “I didn’t let him know how tired I was while he ate. All I wanted to do was go to sleep.” She shuddered and Rhea touched her arm.

  “What’s the matter? You’re shaking.”

  She glared at Rhea. “Nothing’s the matter—it’s just all that food.” She shook her head and leaned against the sink, opening her purse.

  “Mary, don’t get mad at me, I was only trying to help. Besides, you’d said you’d wanted to talk to me about something.”

  “I know. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’ve been on edge lately.”

  Why would she be on edge? Why would the food make her upset? Was her attitude related to her anorexia? The only way to find out was to ask. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Seeing food in the restaurant makes you upset?”

  Mary rummaged in her purse, pulled out a compact and a tube of lipstick. As she powdered her nose and combed her hair, Rhea tried not to stare at her skeletal arms. Her hand shook while she applied her bright red lipstick. “Seeing Ron eat all that food...” She shrugged, placing the makeup back into her purse. “It just makes me sick. He gobbled two plates of food, and he had two beers. I told him if he keeps eating like that, he’ll be big as an elephant.”

  “Seeing your boyfriend eat a meal makes you sick?” How ludicrous! Rhea loved seeing people enjoy themselves while eating, especially if they loved the food. When her parents were married, meal time was when their family would sit and talk about their day while eating a hot, nutritious meal.

  While she’d been married to Stan, she’d always looked forward to sharing dinner with him. He’d always loved the food she’d prepared. Poor Ron. If he couldn’t eat in front of Mary, then Rhea could understand if the relationship did not work out. Perhaps Mary needed to focus on her own life, and get well, before attempting to date anyone.

  She looked directly at Rhea. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s always finding fault with me, my body, my life.” Her blue eyes glimmered with tears, and she blinked r
apidly. “I just can’t take it anymore, Rhea. After today, I’m never seeing him again.”

  “If he’s always insulting you, then it’s probably a good idea not to see him again.” Rhea didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t know Ron, and she didn’t know much about Mary’s current life. Could it be that Mary was mad because Ron’s insults were truthful, and she was too afraid to face the truth about herself?

  Mary closed her purse, still leaning against the sink.

  Should she speak what was on her mind, or, should she remain silent? “Mary, you don’t look well. I’ve never seen you so thin. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

  She slammed her fist against the sink, her red-painted lips pressed into a tight line. “Ugh. There’s nothing wrong with me. I didn’t come in here to talk about my health.”

  If she didn’t want to talk about her boyfriend or her health, then, why’d she ask her to come in here? Rhea checked her watch. She wanted to go home. “Why did you--” A loud knock pounded on the ladies’ room door. “Mary”—Ron’s voice—“you still in there? I told you I’m ready to go.” Mary squirmed at Ron’s agitated tone.

  “Good grief. I can’t even go to the bathroom in peace.” She walked toward the door. “I wondered if you’d…had a difficult time on the anniversary of Stan’s death?”

  Why had Mary asked her about that? Is that why she’d brought her into the bathroom? “It was difficult, and emotional, but I got through it. How about you?”

  She barely nodded. “The same. I still miss my brother so badly it hurts.” Rhea approached Mary, rubbed her bony shoulder. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  “I also wanted to tell you that I have some things that I wanted to give to you…some of Stan’s things.”

  “Oh?” This was a surprise. Mary really wanted to give her something that belonged to Stan? Why would she do that now that he’d already been dead for two years? “What kind of things?”