The Baker's Man

by Jennifer Moorman

  Anna nodded and her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you,” she said, and she meant it one hundred percent. Baron had finally thought about what she needed. And she needed her parents more than anyone else at that moment. She wanted to nestle into the comfort they offered and lose herself. She wanted someone to tell her how to fix this terrible mess, but more than that, she wanted to lie down, close her eyes, and drift away long enough to ease the pounding in her head and the ache in her chest.

  Anna heard her daddy thanking Baron and Eli. She was pretty sure she heard his voice flood with emotion while he talked to them. She heard the police officers say they would call her if they needed anything else, and they were very sorry. The firemen told her she would have to wait a day before returning to the site because the rubble would likely still be smoldering from the heat of the fire even though it was freezing outside. The gas company was already working to fix the leak and prevent any of the other buildings from the possibility of catching fire, but the area was roped off for safety.

  Anna walked toward Eli and slipped her fingers around his palm. “Do you—do you want to come home with us?” she asked, tearing up again. “You’ll need a place to stay.”

  Eli shook his head. “Jakob is going to pick me up. He said I could stay with them for as long as I needed. You go on with your parents. I’ll be okay.”

  Anna squeezed his hand. “You sure?”

  “Promise,” he said, pulling her into one final hug.

  Anna vaguely recalled being bundled into her parents’ SUV and leaning her head against the window as they drove away into the darkness. When Anna hobbled through the front door of her parents’ house, she breathed in the familiar scents of home—her daddy’s soap, the lingering aromas of sweet tea and pound cake, the fresh tiger lilies her mama always kept in a vase on the entry table. She plopped onto the couch while her daddy inspected her feet. She dozed off while he rubbed some sort of tingly cream on her skin, and she drowsily thanked him.

  Anna leaned against Evelyn as they walked up the hallway to her bedroom, which looked exactly the same as it did when she was a kid. The pink and white striped walls and overstuffed duvet welcomed Anna. Her favorite childhood books adorned a white bookshelf, and the lacy curtains shivered when the heat kicked on. Evelyn folded down the duvet, and Anna lowered herself to the edge while her mama rummaged through the dresser for clean clothes.

  “Here,” Evelyn said, handing Anna a worn-out, oversize T-shirt with hearts and moons on it. “This should still fit. I’ll get a glass of water and some pain reliever while you change.”

  Anna pressed the soft fabric of the T-shirt to her cheek. It smelled like home, like years of running up and down the hallways with bare feet, like laughing and painting fingernails with Lily and Tessa on Friday nights. Anna draped her ruined pajamas over the back of the desk chair and slipped on the clean shirt. She crawled beneath the covers and eased her head onto the fluffy pillow.

  Evelyn returned with water and medicine. Anna took both willingly and sighed as she lay down again. Evelyn opened the closet doors and searched for something before closing the doors. She offered a battered, one-eyed teddy bear to Anna.

  “Buster?” Anna asked, and her voice cracked. She pressed her beloved childhood bear to her chest, wrapping her arms around him so tightly she almost wanted to apologize for crushing him. “I can’t believe you kept him. You always complained about how dirty he was.”

  Evelyn pushed the hair from Anna’s face, and tears sparkled in her eyes. “I’m not a complete monster,” she said with a gentle smile. “I would never throw away Buster. You went on some grand adventures together. But that’s probably why he’s the dirtiest thing I’ve ever seen and also why he’s been banished to the closet for all time.” Evelyn leaned down and kissed Anna’s forehead. “Get some rest.” She switched off the bedside lamp. “We don’t have to figure anything out tonight. Your dad and I will help you sort through everything. You won’t have to do it all by yourself, okay?”

  Anna had no doubt her take-charge mama would help her until the world was right again. She was almost tempted to inform Evelyn she also had a broken heart, and if she could find a cure, it would be wonderful. “Thanks, Mama,” Anna said, swallowing down her tears. “I love you.”

  “I love you. Very much,” Evelyn said and closed the door.

  16

  Sugar Cookies

  Anna rolled over and inhaled deeply. The room smelled like chocolate chip cookies and her daddy’s breakfast coffee blend. Her mind registered that it was Sunday, and she couldn’t understand why Eli would be awake and baking on a Sunday morning when the bakery was closed. The room was brighter than it should be against her closed eyelids. She opened her eyes and stared at pink and white striped walls. Why am I at my parents’ house?

  Then she remembered. Anna sat up, and the bed sheets pooled at her waist. The back of her head ached and felt bruised to the touch. Buster lay beside her, so she picked him up and gave him a squeeze. The bakery was gone. Her apartment was gone. When she inhaled, she smelled fire and burnt sugar. There were folded, clean clothes at the foot of her bed. She tossed back the duvet and swung her legs over the side. She placed her feet gently onto the floor. They were still sore, but the medicine her daddy applied had definitely made a difference.

  Anna needed a shower. Her hair stank of smoke and ashes. She grabbed the clothes and made her way to the bathroom she’d used growing up. The countertop and cabinets had been redone in granite and walnut after she’d left home, but the wallpaper was still the same pattern of pink and pale green flowers. Toiletries had been placed on the counter, along with a brand-new toothbrush. Her mama had bought her favorite shampoo, conditioner, and soap. There was also a bottle of fuchsia nail polish that made Anna smile. Her mama would never give up trying to mold her into a girly girl.

  After a hot shower, Anna dried her hair and tugged on the new jeans and long-sleeve emerald green shirt she found on her bed. The house still smelled like baked goods, and Anna panicked at the idea of her mama baking because she could turn brownies into bricks. The television in the living room was on a news channel, and the clock on the microwave said it was just past one in the afternoon. The kitchen remodel had drastically altered the kitchen from Anna’s childhood memories, but that wasn’t what surprised her the most. The countertops and kitchen table were covered in baked goods. Some were sheltered by plastic wrap. Others were cuddled beneath plastic containers. A few sat atop colorful, ceramic cake plates. There was no way her mama could have baked so much in such a short amount of time. Anna walked to the oven and placed her hands against it. Cold.

  Evelyn walked through the doorway that connected the living room to the sun porch. “Good morning—or afternoon, I should say,” she said with a smile. “I knew those clothes would fit. That color suits you.”

  Anna combed her fingers through her hair. “Thanks for the bathroom stuff. And for the clothes.”

  “Tessa and Lily called this morning to check on you. They’re both resting at home,” Evelyn said. “I told them you were still sleeping, and they thought I was joking. Lily’s exact words were, ‘Her body hasn’t seen a bed after eight a.m. in at least three years.’” Evelyn smiled. “Your dad made me sneak in and check that you were still breathing like he used to make me do when you were a baby.”

  Anna felt relief that Lily and Tessa were both home and doing okay. “Mama, where did all this food come from?”

  Evelyn lifted a plastic container and gave it a shake. Cookies rattled around inside. “Your dad has eaten most of these. They were good. Not as good as yours, but close enough. These sugar cookies came from Mrs. Rogers.” She pointed as she moved around the room. “The angel food cake is from Lottie down the street. Mr. Dixon dropped off the walnut brownies. Dr. Pitts brought the snickerdoodles. Tracey from the bank made the blackberry cobbler.” And she continued until she’d itemized every treat.

  “But why?” Anna asked.

  Evelyn crossed the kitche
n to her daughter. “Because they want to let you know how sorry they are to hear about what happened.”

  Anna’s throat tightened. “It’s not like somebody died.” She reached out and brushed her fingers against a plate full of oatmeal cookies. They warmed her fingertips.

  “To them, it’s like a death. They loved that bakery, and they love you. This is their way of letting you know how special what you did was to them and how special you are.” Anna’s eyes watered. “Now, don’t start crying again,” Evelyn said, but her voice was gentle. “You’ll make your eyes all red and puffy, and it’ll completely clash with your skin tone.” Evelyn pulled Anna into a hug. “How about some lunch? I have low-fat turkey on multi-grain bread. I’ll even add cheese if you want it.”

  “Hold on now, Mama,” Anna said, wiping her eyes. “There’s no need to get crazy.” And they both laughed.

  ˜˜˜˜

  Against the firemen’s advice of staying away from the site for a day or two, Anna borrowed her daddy’s truck and drove to the bakery, to what was left of it. In the afternoon light, it looked like a scene from a disaster movie. The area was littered with twisted metal, burnt plastic that had bubbled and formed strange, ash-coated domes, shards of glass that shimmered in the sunshine, and a yawning hole full of mostly unrecognizable items. Anna’s former life was destroyed. She zipped the old work jacket she’d borrowed from her daddy because he said he didn’t care if she got it a little dirty. It was at least two sizes too big, but it was warm. Anna imagined it could keep out the chills brought on by kicking through rubble.

  She slid her hands along the rope strung up by the emergency department and stared into the burned-out bakery. Her eyes settled on the freezer in the back. It stood alone without the comfort of the walls that once hemmed it in. Black streaks smeared across the stainless steel and looked like shadows of flames left behind during the blaze, but the freezer looked intact otherwise. Wearing a pair of yellow rain boots from her high school days, Anna carefully made her way over to the freezer because curiosity overcame her. The ground radiated warmth and reminded Anna of a solidified lava flow. She sidestepped her favorite set of mixing bowls that had melted into the shapes of nesting fortune cookies. Anna imagined cracking one open to read the message: Your life is a wreck. Change directions. She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling while she looked at what remained of the lovely island her daddy had specially made for her. The slab of granite had crushed the lower wooden half, and the ceiling had fallen into the middle of the kitchen.

  Anna cautiously touched her fingertips to the freezer’s handle. The metal was cold, so she wrenched it open. Debris scraped out of the way as the door swung ajar. The power was no longer working in the building, but the interior of the freezer was still quite chilly. Anna smiled in the sad sort of way that she’d seen people do on the news when a tornado had demolished their homes. They’d find a framed photo and they’d smile, but they were crying too. She pulled a tub of double dark chocolate chip cookie dough from the shelf and popped off the lid. Then she stepped out into the sunshine, closed the freezer door, and dug her finger into the dough. Anna chewed a mouthful and sighed. For a few seconds, the chocolate eased the ache in her chest. She could breathe around the sorrow without feeling as though she’d swallowed a macaron whole. On her next inhale, she smelled sugar and cinnamon.

  “Afternoon snack?” a voice asked behind her.

  Anna turned to see Eli walking up the alley beside the bakery. The soot from the night before was washed from his arms, and he wore a clean shirt advertising the local pizza joint. She offered the tub of cookie dough to him. “Want some? It’s only slightly gooey. Still edible. I eat when I’m emotional—it’s a terrible habit. I’m trying to break it, just not today.”

  Eli smiled, and the sight nearly brought tears to Anna’s eyes. She wasn’t sure she’d ever see it again, not after the way he’d left her apartment. Anna looked up as if she could see where she’d once lived, but all she could see was the blue sky and fat, happy clouds forming shapes. Eli reached out his hand to her, and she took it. He maneuvered her over the debris and took the cookie dough tub from her. He stuck his finger into the dough and popped it into his mouth.

  “How was Jakob’s place last night?” she asked.

  “Not bad.” He hooked his thumb into the shirt and stretched it out. “He let me borrow his clothes, and, man, are these jeans tight. I’m afraid to bend over or squat because something might burst, and I don’t want the bursting to happen on my body.”

  Anna chuckled. She looked at her car still parked behind the crumbled building. A large chunk of bricks had fallen on her car, crushing her hood like a cartoon anvil. Her front tires looked like someone had held a blowtorch to them. “Guess I won’t be driving anywhere today in my car. There goes my escape plan.” She heaved a loud sigh.

  “Looks like someone swapped your tires for tar,” he said lightly and draped his arm around her shoulders. “All fixable though. What we couldn’t have fixed was losing you. Good thing that didn’t happen.”

  Anna nodded, but her throat was closing and tears prickled in her eyes. She tried to blink as fast as possible and cleared her throat. “I’m really sorry about last night,” she said. But not about the kiss.

  “Me too,” he said, pulling her closer.

  “Do you hate me?”

  Eli turned Anna so she faced him. When she stared at the dancing pizza on his borrowed shirt, he fisted his hand beneath her chin and lifted her face. “I’m not capable of hating you,” he said. “Am I confused? Yes. Do I know what to do next? Not really. But what I do know is that right now you need me, and I plan on staying as long as you need help repairing what we lost.”

  Anna nodded. “And afterward? You’ll leave?”

  Eli lowered his hand and looked toward the shape-shifting clouds. He pointed skyward. “That one looks like a seagull.”

  Anna looked up and agreed. It flew toward the ocean on fluffy wings.

  “I think it’s best that I leave. I need to figure myself out,” he said.

  Anna nodded because she was afraid to say anything, afraid she might beg Eli to stay with her. She wanted to tell him that she was home when they were together, but it sounded too pathetic, and she knew Eli deserved better. She put her hand on his chest. Her fingers tingled with his warmth, and the heat quickly spread up her arm and pooled in her chest until she was forced to exhale just to make room for all of it. Eli covered her hand with his. Then, he pulled her against him with one arm, holding the tub of cookie dough to the side.

  She breathed in the scent of warm sugar cookies and nodded against his chest. “Send postcards,” she said, trying to pretend the idea of Eli leaving didn’t feel like a glass shard in her chest.

  “Where should I send them?” he asked. “The Clarke House or Wildehaven Beach?”

  “Good question.” She pulled away from him and looked up into his blue eyes. “Maybe fold them into paper airplanes and send them on the wind. I’m sure they’ll find me.”

  Eli grinned. “I’ll always find you. No matter where you are, I will always be able to find you.”

  Anna snorted a laugh. She poked him in the chest. “You sound like Daniel Day Lewis from The Last of the Mohicans.”

  “Did that up my sex appeal?”

  “Definitely,” Anna said and couldn’t help but grin at his silly smile. He was trying to cheer her up, and it was working. Standing on the edges of the destroyed bakery and apartment, Anna didn’t feel as devastated because she still had Eli, and he wasn’t leaving her yet. He was going to stay until she was back on her feet, until her life didn’t resemble a catastrophe. The sun shone down on them, warming their cheeks. Anna grabbed for the cookie tub and stuck her finger into the dough. Then she leaned her head against Eli’s arm and sighed. In that moment, she could almost believe everything was going to be okay.

  ˜˜˜˜

  Anna and Eli spent the afternoon pushing through the debris in search of anything sal
vageable. At first, Anna found the job depressing, and every little burnt item made her feel weepy all over again, but she and Eli decided to make a game out of it. The person who found the most useable items won a free dinner. So far, Anna had a few metal mixing spoons shoved into her jacket pocket, one untouched bottle of chocolate liquor, and half a dozen cookie cutters. Eli rescued the largest item—a red stoneware baking dish—but Anna insisted size didn’t matter, only quantity. She had laughed when he raised the dish over his head in victory like a wrestling belt.

  At dinnertime, when the sun started falling from its afternoon perch and threw horizontal rainbow streaks across the sky, Anna’s nose was red and her fingers were numb and sore, coated with grime and soot. She climbed over the scattered mess where the front of the bakery once stood, and she paused on the sidewalk. She held a cracked cake plate in her hand.

  “Think anyone will notice that half of it is gone?” she asked, rotating the plate 360 degrees.

  “Nah,” Eli said. “You can tell everyone it’s a dieter’s cake plate. Half the plate means half the calories.” He stomped his way over to her, leaving behind a trail of black clouds swirling after him. “Shall we call it a night? We can order pizza from this place,” he said, pulling out his shirt and reading the upside down logo, “and have them deliver it to the park.”

  Anna smiled. “We’ll be sitting in the dark,” she said. “We could eat in Daddy’s truck and pretend we don’t know why it smells like pizza when I return it.”

  Eli carried the salvaged items to the truck and piled them in the truck bed. Anna’s stack of reclaimed items was much larger than Eli’s. “Looks like I’m buying.” He pulled a cell phone out of his back pocket. “Lily gave me her phone,” he said as he dialed the number for the pizza place. After ordering, they leaned against the truck grill and looked over the pathways they’d left behind in the rubble.