by London Casey
She didn’t push me away. She didn’t slap me.
I lowered my head down until our foreheads touched.
“Dena,” I whispered. “You never did a thing wrong. You never thought the wrong thing. You never did the wrong thing. You loved her unconditionally and did all you could to protect her. There wasn’t a day or a second that went by that I didn’t see that.”
“Evan…”
Goddamn, when she whispered my name…
I sucked in a breath and it was now my turn to do the right thing. To stop thinking the wrong thing. To show my unconditional love to Dena and protect her… by leaving.
I broke away from her and made a move toward the door.
I didn’t look back.
I didn’t want her to see the tears in my eyes.
Chapter Eighteen
(The Flying Eclair)
NOW
(Adena)
I wasn’t lying when I told Evan I was completing someone else’s dream. That someone was a woman named Mary Anne who I met coming into my bakery. You know, when I had one. She wasn’t trying to steal trade secrets from me or anything, she just liked my baking. Her bakery had been open for twenty years. We struck up a friendship pretty quick but it turned sour. Fast. And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how or why it happened.
Soon Mary Anne stopped coming into the bakery. But that was just one nick in the brick wall that would eventually topple down and leave me standing in a pile of dust, with a pile of paper debt, and a pile of feelings I never really got to sort through. It also left me walking into Mary Anne’s bakery. I was surprised when she greeted me, but then again, I was alone. Nobody was with me. Nobody to run their mouth, make comments, and cause problems. The second I told Mary Anne I needed a job, our friendship ended. She made it very clear she was my boss and if that didn’t fly then I was out.
Which was fine. I needed a job. I needed money.
There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t compare her bakery to mine. I once made a few suggestions of what she could do better and her response… Between the two of us, Adena, who here owns a bakery?
In other words, back off and shut up.
I pulled at the heavy back door and was hit with that warm, sweet smell. The place was called MA’s. Short for Mary Anne but also what Mary Anne and her brother Matthew called their mother. Matthew sadly passed before he was even a teenager. During our quick friendship Mary Anne confessed that after Matthew died, baking was the only way her mother got through it. And baking was the way Mary Anne communicated with her mother. So the bakery had such a deep meaning.
A room right next to the back door was for employees. There were only a handful of us. Me and Amy ran the back. Mary Anne was always up front, working the counter and talking to customers. Her niece, Stephanie, worked whenever she wanted, answering the phones, doing the social media stuff. To me, that was just an excuse for Stephanie to be on her phone.
I took my hoodie off and threw it to the table. I had a hair tie around my wrist and went to work, pulling my hair back and sliding the hair tie over my hair. I’d put it up in a tight bun, stick a couple pencils back there so I would always have something to write with.
Not once did I think of Evan.
Or the way he held me. Or the way he put his forehead to mine. Or the way I could tell he didn’t want to go but was trying to convince himself it was the right thing to do. Yeah, fine, there were a million things between us that could have been said and maybe could be said still. Maybe there would come a time when we’d get that chance. But I wasn’t going to be his favorite pity party. No way in hell. Not after everything we both went through. And how long we went through it.
But I wasn’t going to think about that. Or think about Evan.
I wasn’t going to think about the way he sat on the chair when I came downstairs. That surprised look on his face, like I caught him off guard. Like I was actually pretty. Like I maybe left him breathless.
No way. I wasn’t going…
I turned and saw Amy standing in the doorway.
“Adena…”
“Hey, Amy,” I said. I walked toward the door and she backed away. “I’m going to go check the order list.”
I breezed by her. Her mouth open.
Then she was behind me. “Wait a second. What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
I grabbed a clipboard off the wall. I put my finger to the page and studied what needed to be made. I personally hated the clipboard thing. The way I used to do it…
“Adena.”
I looked up from the clipboard. “What?”
“Why are you here?” Amy asked.
“I work here. This is my shift. I mean, I know I’m a few minutes late. Sorry. Rough morning.”
“Rough morning,” Amy said. “Mary Anne said you were out for a while. Because…”
“No. I’m here. So let’s bake some stuff.”
“Adena. Hey. I’m sorry. About everything. I couldn’t be there for the, uh, you know. I have something for you. It’s not here though.”
I put the clipboard on a stainless steel table. I walked to Amy. I plastered one of those famous fake smiles on my face that I was telling Evan about.
“No need,” I said. “I can’t just sit home right now, okay? This is what I do. I enjoy it. I need this.”
Amy nodded. “Okay. Uh… I was just working on the red velvets. Then I was going to make some of the eclairs. We have a few private orders…”
“Let’s get to it,” I said.
Private orders.
Those two words hurt. That was the basis of my business. It wasn’t just a regular bakery but more of a catering type bakery. I would have five jobs a day, all of them small, but they paid the bills. I’d bake, organize, show up, set up, go to the next place. I had a big van and listened to the radio in between drives. I’d blast cheesy 90’s music, sing along out of tune, and I loved every minute of it.
Now Mary Anne got all the private orders that were once mine. So in some twisted way of fate I was running my business for Mary Anne. She was getting the business. The acclaim. The money. I was getting a measly hourly wage.
“I’ll work the red velvets,” I said.
“Sure,” Amy said.
She lingered like she had something else to say. I wasn’t going to give her the chance. And apparently neither was Mary Anne. Because she swept from the front to the back, holding a few pieces of paper. When she saw me, the first thing she did was look at Amy. Amy shrugged her shoulders. Then Mary Anne looked at me again.
“Adena. I didn’t expect to see you today. I was going to call you later.”
“And here I am,” I said. “Are those more orders?”
“Amy, take these please,” Mary Anne said. “Adena, can we talk in my office?”
“I’d rather just get to work.”
“I shouldn’t have asked,” Mary Anne said. She pointed to her office door. “Go into my office, right now. We need to talk.”
I rubbed my hands together and walked from the large kitchen. The kitchen was bigger than the one I had but I had no trouble managing my smaller kitchen. I just couldn’t control the one employee I had… and the things she did…
Mary Anne shut the door behind her. She pointed to a small serving cart. “Coffee?”
“No thanks.”
She stepped around her L shaped desk and sat down. She folded her hands. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean?”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I need to be here.”
“Adena… your sister…”
I put a hand up. “I remember the story you told me about this bakery. What it means. You remember that? When we were friends?”
Mary Anne leaned back in her leather chair. “I’m going to let that one slide.” She reached into the drawer and pulled out an envelope. “I was going to call you later and see if I could stop by your house. To give you this.”
Sh
e tossed the envelope to me.
“What’s this?”
“It’s no secret I didn’t get along with your sister. I couldn’t shut this place down for a funeral. Sorry. It’s business.”
“I wouldn’t have asked you to do that anyway. I don’t care. Honestly. It’s all a blur to me who was there.”
Except Evan. He was there. I could have had a night with him. But I drowned myself in booze and he still stayed the night. Then when I tried to kick him out, he stayed again. Trying to prove to me he was really there.
But, remember, I wasn’t going to think about that. Any of it.
“Just open the envelope,” Mary Anne said.
I slid my finger under the flap and pulled out a card. It was a cheap, ninety-nine cents sympathy card. Inside was a check. Handwritten. From Mary Anne to me.
“Week’s worth of pay,” Mary Anne said. “From me to you, Adena.”
“What?”
“I know what you’ve been going through. You don’t belong here right now. Take the week off and do something for yourself. Come back refreshed.”
“Like a vacation?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t twist my words.”
“I’m here right now, Mary Anne.”
“I see that.”
“I can’t just sit there. I can’t stand the sympathy. The empathy. The whatever-thy. I just want to be here.”
Mary Anne nodded. She stood up and sighed. “That check is still yours. My deepest condolences for what happened. Pain in the ass or not, it’s hard to lose someone you love.”
I nodded. “Yeah…”
Mary Anne then exited the office.
I looked at the check.
It was a pity check. All the business Mary Anne gained from hiring me and using my name. And in return I got a week’s worth of pay. The bakery probably made more than what the check was written for during just the morning rush.
I folded up the check and stuck it into my pocket. I left the envelope and the card on her desk. She could use it for the next person she knew that has a death in the family.
I left the office and decided to go to work.
And believe me, I wasn’t going to think about Evan… not even once.
“Evan, don’t put your hand on the glass.”
I turned, holding a tray of eclairs. It was just my instinctive reaction to hearing the name. My head kept turning, eyes searching for Evan. Turned out Evan was a little boy with a runny nose. He was eye level with the first level of the glass case. His hands against the glass. Leaving handprints that would drive Mary Anne nuts.
The bigger issue? Other than me being so messed up in the head to get all freaked out hearing the name Evan?
When I turned, I did so so fast that when I stopped moving the tray one of the eclairs decided to make a daring escape. I saw the eclair make a quick arch, up and then down. I hoped it would hit the counter, but luck wasn’t on my side.
Instead, a woman turned as the eclair hit her chest. It was soft, freshly baked, super creamy. Which meant it basically exploded against her. Chocolate, cream, a splatter of flavor on her light pink shirt.
She let out a yell as though she had been shot with a gun.
I hurried to put the tray down and grab a towel.
“I am so sorry,” I said.
I rushed around the counter and before I could get to the woman, she said my name.
“Adena?”
I froze. I tilted my head. Then I recognized who it was. “Liz.”
“Look what you did to my shirt! This is a two hundred dollar shirt.”
Typical Liz. She was the rich girl. Her father owned a ton of land and for whatever reason, he made his two daughters stay in this town and go to school here. Erica was snobby but quiet. But Liz was a straight up bitch. Not afraid to flaunt her money, her body, forever teasing guys into doing anything for her with the hopes of an exchange of you-know-what but that never happened.
“Liz,” I said. “I’m sorry. Let me wet a towel.”
“Like that will help. Look at you. Typical Adena. Always cleaning up a mess.”
“Here,” I said and handed her the towel.
“I’m not touching that filthy thing. This place is disgusting anyway.”
The other woman at the counter, the one with Evan, grabbed for her son and walked toward the door. Empty handed.
That’s when Mary Anne came out. “What’s…”
“She threw an eclair at me!” Liz yelled.
“I accidentally…”
“You threw it,” Liz said. “Look at my shirt. It’s ruined. I just got this shirt. Three hundred dollars.”
“You just said two hundred dollars…”
“Now she’s making fun of me,” Liz said.
Mary Anne looked at me, eyes wide.
“I didn’t mean… it was an accident…”
“Always an accident,” Liz said. “Just like your sister. How is she, by the way?”
Liz smirked.
She knew. She fucking knew.
“Adena, go in the back and…”
Mary Anne’s voice faded.
I grabbed another eclair. And I wound up and threw it at Liz’s face. She tried to bat it away and missed. She turned her head and the eclair exploded in her hair.
She screamed louder this time. And she began to call for help.
“She’s attacking me!” she cried out.
“Get out of here!” Mary Anne barked at me. “Now. You’re done here.”
I looked around.
All eyes on me.
Amy tugged at my arm. “Hey. Come on. Stop this. You need to go. You can’t be here right now.”
“What she said…”
I heard Mary Ann tell Liz that Anna was dead.
“Oh, I didn’t realize,” Liz said in a cocky, lying tone.
I looked back and Liz smirked.
Mary Anne’s nostrils flared.
Amy kept pulling at me.
She walked me to my car.
It took a few minutes for everything to really sink in.
Liz had been a bitch to me for years. And I hadn’t seen her since high school. I always thought about what to do or say to her. Anna always told me to just punch the bitch in the mouth. Instead, I threw an eclair at her face.
I laughed. Tears filled my eyes.
I wished I was able to call Anna and tell her what I had done.
Chapter Nineteen
(The Second Beer, The Waiting Downfall)
NOW
(Evan)
I opened the creaky door to the old office and took the check out of my pocket. I put it on the desk in front of Uncle Davey. He was sitting there, flipping through a new calendar of half naked women.
“Are you looking at the women or the cars?” I asked.
Uncle Davey looked up at me. “Both.”
“Check out this payment.”
He leaned forward and squinted his eyes. When he did, his bottom lip quivered. “Well, damn. That’s a good one.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Figured I’d show you before I hit the bank.”
“Bank. Fuck the banks. Crooks.”
“Right,” I said. “Tell you what, how about I cash this and go to Vegas. Blow it all in a weekend.”
“A weekend?” Uncle Davey asked. “I could spend that in one night back in my day.”
“Back in your day,” I said. “You haven’t left this town in twenty years.”
Uncle Davey pointed to the check. “Go to the bank, Evan. Then get back to work.”
“I see you’re working hard,” I said.
Uncle Davey shifted in his seat and rubbed his right knee. He let out a groan and leaned back with a sigh. He grabbed the calendar. “If you don’t mind, I have a little date here with…” He put the calendar an inch from his face. “With… uh… Cherry. Cherry?” He lowered the calendar. “Who the hell names their daughter Cherry? Christ. This world is going to hell…”
“I knew a Cherry once,” I said.
>
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She was nice. Slipped her an extra twenty and she gave me a nice dance.”
Uncle Davey started to laugh. That deep, old car starting sounding laugh. Years of smoking, drinking, and breathing in grease and tools gave Uncle Davey that distinctive laugh.
“See you later,” I said.
“Hey, uh, Evan,” he called out as I opened the door.
“What?”
“It’s a damn shame what happened to that girl,” Uncle Davey said. “The drugs. The drinking. The accident.”
“She wasn’t the only one wrapped up in the mess.”
“Either way, it’s a shame. You haven’t looked right since you got back here. You missing her or something?”
“No. Just, uh, life…”
Uncle Davey scoffed. “Life? You’re young, Evan. Wait until you get to be my age. Everyone starts dropping like flies. And you just sit in a chair and wait.”
“Hey, at least you have good company,” I said and pointed to the calendar.
“That I do,” he said and lifted the calendar. “Cherry… let’s see if we can get you to turn around and show us the front…”
I shook my head, a little grossed out that the old man was eye humping a car calendar. Hell, if I really wanted to get him going I could have shown him that his cell phone had internet. That he could search for anything he wanted.
But if I did that, he’d probably end up going bankrupt, never show up to the shop, or he’d search for something crazy and give himself a heart attack.
I laughed as I walked to my truck.
Business was steady, the work going great, life moving forward. My paycheck cleared every Friday. The bar on the corner was open when I needed it to be. The beer was ice cold, the drafts cheap. What else could I ask for?
There’s always one thing…
I got back to the shop an hour later after grabbing a bite to eat.
I went to work on the next project and worked later than I should have.
Uncle Davey shut the lights off on me as I was in the middle of welding. It scared the hell out of me and I almost burned myself. I ripped my mask off and threw my gloves to the floor.
