by Jenny Hale
“We’re not going to make it!” Phoebe panted, her boarding pass in a wad in her hand.
Noelle and Jo had sat outside Phoebe’s apartment for ages, waiting for her to come out so they could take her to the airport to catch her flight to Los Angeles. This was the big day. She had burst through the door in a panic, saying it took her ages to pack, her face full of fear. They’d all jumped into Jo’s Mercedes and put that fancy engine to the test to see if it really was all it was said to be. Minutes ticked on as they paid for parking, found a spot, and raced into the airport to Departures.
“We’ll make it,” Jo said, her words desperate. She grabbed Phoebe’s arm and pulled her down the hallway faster.
Out of nowhere, Phoebe stopped dead next to the twinkling Christmas tree outside one of the souvenir shops, and Noelle and Jo, who were both holding onto her, nearly fell over with the jolt of it.
“I’m scared.”
“Well, if you stop now, you should be scared.” Jo pushed her runaway lock of hair behind her ear to focus on Phoebe, her breathing still unsteady. She was shiny with perspiration from running in her coat. “The plane is going to leave. Why are we slowing down?”
“I’m scared to do the audition.”
Noelle had seen that kind of fear on Phoebe’s face before, when her mother had told her in one of her low moments that she’d decided to move away, leaving Phoebe completely on her own at eighteen. She understood now why Phoebe had been running late: she was deciding whether or not to go through with it.
Noelle looked at Jo, and Jo told her to handle it with her eyes. Noelle knew just how to get through to her friend. “Phoebe, you were born for this. What in the world is there to be scared about?” she asked, glad to have a moment to catch her breath but knowing they were running out of time. “Don’t sabotage this out of fear. Sure, you could never go and be safe, but you may miss out on the very best life for you because you were trying not to get hurt. Get on that plane. You can text me once you land and I’ll keep talking you into it.”
“You’re right.” She started to run again and Noelle and Jo followed her, picking up speed once more. The rest of the time, they were silent, working together to get their friend to her flight.
They reached the gate and Phoebe thrust her boarding pass into the hand of the flight attendant, then took her bags from Jo and Noelle, telling them with her expression how thankful she was. Phoebe bit her lip as it started to quiver. Then, with a quick hug—out of lack of time and probably because she might not board otherwise—she headed toward the entry gate. “What is a Virginia girl doing flying out to LA for an acting part?” she called out.
“You’re only a Virginia girl right now,” Noelle called back. “After a few shows, you’ll be an LA girl!”
With a decisive nod, Phoebe started down the passenger boarding bridge but she stopped and turned back to her friends, still looking unsure. “Noelle. I can’t do this without you.”
“Yes, you can.”
She hesitated.
“You can! I’ll text you, remember?”
The flight attendant urged her to board the plane. “Promise you’ll come to LA with me if I get this!”
“We’ll talk about it after you get the part.”
“Promise!”
The flight attendant started to get more urgent.
“Okay! I promise!” Then she watched Phoebe disappear from sight.
With a huge sigh of relief, Jo flopped down into one of the chairs. “I didn’t think we’d get her on the plane.”
“I know. This is huge for her. I think she’s worried that her dreams will come crashing down if someone tells her she isn’t good enough. Without acting, she wouldn’t know who she was. This is a turning point in her life, and it could go well or it could totally crush her.”
“You understand her so well, Noelle.”
Jo rubbed her shoulder, causing Noelle to be aware of the pinch in her own from dragging those heavy bags so far. “My back is killing me. What the heck did she have in her luggage?” Noelle said with a laugh.
“Why don’t we go get a cup of coffee? It would do us some good.”
“What does your day look like?” Jo asked, holding a latte with a heart drawn in the foam. After leaving the airport, they’d found a great little shop to settle in and relax. They’d chosen the oversized sofa, both slumping back into it, holding their warm mugs and trying to stay awake from getting up so early.
“I’m doing a little organizing and calling around to get estimates for work at the bakery and then I’m making cookies with William and Alex Harrington.”
Jo’s eyebrow shot up in her famous what-the-heck look.
“And then Alex is going to help me and Lucas deliver them to his neighbors.”
Jo laughed. “What?”
“Alex and his grandfather don’t get along but I think that if they just spend time together, they could. They’re both amazing people, you just have to scratch the surface to see it.”
Jo offered a cautionary look. “I’m not sure that’s part of the job description. You always care so much about people, Noelle, but I wonder if you’ll find yourself in over your head. This is a powerful family, and if they don’t like one another, there’s probably some reason—some big reason.”
“There’s this mystery woman that apparently got between William and his wife and it caused a rift with Alex.”
Jo set her coffee down, her eyes wide, interest on her face.
Noelle held her mug and sat up straighter, poised to tell her friend every detail she’d learned so far.
When she’d finished, Jo said, “How sad. I wonder where this woman is now. I wonder if she ever thinks about this forbidden love affair?”
“I don’t know. But I do believe that things happen the way they were meant to happen. William loves his wife. But his first love affected all of them. It’s as though something needs to be set right between William and Alex. I just don’t know what.”
With William having his routine doctor visits, Noelle spent most of her day at the bakery, on her laptop, making spreadsheets for the new Hope and Sugar Coffee House. She’d organized exterior and interior changes, which were minimal, given her tight budget, and she’d come up with a simple menu and drink options.
The thought occurred to her that in the evenings, she might be able to get live music in there—perhaps set up an acoustic solo artist on Saturday nights. She’d have to start with local musicians—very small, maybe even a few who would play just for coffee at first. There was a tiny patio out back that just held the trash cans and empty freight boxes until they could be broken down. What if she could clean it up for the summer, squeeze a few tables with umbrellas out there, string patio lights above them? But she’d have to get some sales first to prove to Alex that her plan would work and keep the bakery going until then.
Noelle’s mind was humming with ideas. She also thought about having a few taps with local beers, and she’d called three breweries to see if she could get a deal if she wrapped up the sales in some sort of advertising for the breweries. Her thought was to make this a whole-family location: cookies and milk for the kids, music and beverages for adults, and then in the daytime, it could be a quiet retreat for those looking to sit by the fire and enjoy light conversation. But right now, she had to focus on the re-opening. She wanted everything to go off without a hitch.
Noelle had cashed in her emergency savings, transferring them to her checking account, and bought paint and a few select décor items online that would update the interior quickly. She was going to sink all her money from caring for William into the taps for the beer, area rugs to hide the flooring for now, and an updated iPad sales station, the current cash register barely working enough to ring people up. The café tables were a bit dated, but she had a few ideas for those.
With plans moving along, and William still asleep when she’d called Jim to check on him, Noelle went to see if Alex would come to get the ingredients for the cookies.
> They’d had more flurries on and off, yet they hadn’t had any real buildup of any kind, but now the snow was coming down. Noelle had been hoping it would so they could go sledding. Alex had texted that he’d be at the bakery shortly, and she was just starting to prioritize the changes she wanted to start soon on the interior when she noticed something new. Noelle walked over to the wall separating the dining area and the kitchen. She’d been so busy on her computer that she hadn’t noticed the puckered wall, or the enormous water stain streaking it.
Noelle was still inspecting the wall when Alex walked through the door.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his smile quickly changing to concern as his eyes moved from her to the giant spot on the wall. “Oh no.”
“Something’s leaking, and from the looks of it, has been going strong all day. I only just noticed it.”
Alex set his coat on the counter and walked around to the other side to get a better look. He tapped his foot, his pricey wingtips looking out of place on the old flooring. It sagged under the weight of his shoe. “This wood is damaged,” he said. “It looks like the leak has been going on a while, it only just now surfaced. I’ll have it repaired.”
“But Christmas is only three weeks away,” she said, feeling sick. “I’d planned to do the re-opening just before Christmas.”
“I’ll call right now.” He took out his phone and started searching for a plumber.
Now they had to repair the leaky pipe, the drywall, replace the flooring, and paint. Along with all her other changes, it would drastically push the timings back. She looked down at her spreadsheet. “I’ll have to do the painting myself. I was going to use a low-cost painting company that I found, but now we’ll have to wait until the wall’s fixed.”
Alex had started talking to someone on his phone. Noelle stared at the wall while he told the person on the other end what he was seeing. When he finished, he hung up and said, “They’re calling me back and I’ll set an appointment then, but after describing the situation, they’re estimating way more time than you’ll have.”
“I’ll get it done, along with my family; we’ll work into the night if we have to.”
“I’d love to give you more time, Noelle, but I’m already committed to a solid renter in January…” He showed deliberation, clearly wanting to give her what she needed, but she didn’t want handouts. She wouldn’t take special favors because she knew too well that time was money and every extra day she took was money out of his pocket. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she couldn’t do this the right way.
“I’ll get it done,” she repeated, for emphasis. She wasn’t going to get this close to saving the bakery only to walk away from it. “Enough about this for now. Just let me know when they’ll be here to fix it. In the meantime, we have cookies to make!” She straightened her back to keep the ache in her chest from pulling her forward. “My dad ordered enough ingredients for another month of business,” she explained, walking behind the counter. “We’re making seven different kinds of cookies, so I might need help carrying it all to the car.”
“It’s no problem,” he said with a smile, his eyes moving around the room. “When I was here last, I was focused on the structure of the building, and I didn’t really get a chance to look around…” He peered into the glass case of cookies and muffins.
“Feel free to take a seat, get comfortable,” she said, heading into the kitchen. “I’ll just grab what we need for the cookies and start stacking it on the counter.”
“Okay.” He was already at the window, leaning over the huge peppermint cake that Heidi and Noelle had made together.
Noelle went into the kitchen and stopped, taking a look around at the empty cupboards, the looming changes becoming so real. It was clear that her father didn’t expect a whole lot of traffic this season, the supplies he’d left out barely enough to cover an hour in the bakery’s heyday, and he and Pop-pop must have been packing up. The shelves where their mugs and plates had been were now empty, with only a few sitting on the counter, the rest in boxes. Fear swept through her as she worried she wouldn’t be able to make this work, but she shook it from her mind and focused on the cookies.
Noelle walked into the large pantry at the back, and, mentally listing the ingredients she’d need, she tried not to think about anything else or she’d break down into tears of worry. This was about what was meant for her, but it was also about Gram; Noelle couldn’t let Gram down. Every time she thought about it, all she could see were Gram’s pleading eyes that day in the hospital when she’d asked Pop-pop to keep the bakery open.
She rolled her head on her shoulders to alleviate the pinch and closed her eyes to visualize Gram’s recipes. They’d be making ginger snaps, cheesecake truffles, coconut macaroons, chocolate-dipped shortbread, peanut butter and sugar cookies, and peppermint bark.
Noelle remembered having long conversations with Gram about the perfect complements when it came to cookie pairing. Gram had told her that her most popular assortment had always had exactly seven different types of cookies: just enough to love each type, not enough to tire of them. When asked how she got her data, Gram had simply said, “By the smiles on people’s faces.” The funny thing was that, while Gram had no formal way of knowing these things, she always got it right. Noelle pulled a box of sugar and two bags of flour off the shelf, wishing she could hear her soft, reassuring voice.
With her arms full, she went out to set what she had so far onto the counter. When she got back into the main room, Alex was squatting in front of the old jukebox. He noticed her entry and stood up. “That’s amazing,” he said, throwing his thumb into the air to gesture toward it. “It’s an antique.”
“Yes. It’s one of my favorite things.”
“It’s not working. Have you had a look inside to see what’s wrong with it?”
Noelle shook her head.
“Do you mind if I take a look?”
Panic pelted her insides. She didn’t want him tampering with it. The last person to touch it was Gram. She’d chosen the order of the records; she’d decided which were the best. He took a step back, just as she realized she’d moved between him and the jukebox.
“Are you all right?” he asked, looking concerned.
“I’m sorry. It just has sentimental value.” She forced herself to calm down but seeing Alex in Gram’s shop, messing with things, gave her a sense of uneasiness that she couldn’t shake. What if she made the wrong choices and lost the bakery? This was her last chance to save it. The elation she’d felt before had now turned to an immensity in her shoulders, and she felt the tears coming unexpectedly, the emotions rushing out like a runaway tide.
Obviously noticing her stress, Alex slid into her view, his hands on her arms, concern overwhelming his features. “I won’t touch it,” he said. He looked down at her as she blinked away her tears.
“I just feel that without Gram, without this bakery… How can I move forward? I can’t even enjoy Christmas, and that’s the most exciting time of the year for me. I can’t allow myself to enjoy it when I have all this on my shoulders.”
Gently, he added, “Sometimes, though, if you can pull yourself from the past, you’ll be able to see a future that’s even better than what you’re missing.”
Noelle stood there with him, stunned by his statement. It was the perfect thing to say. It was like something Gram would’ve said. “I love that saying,” she admitted.
He smiled and rubbed her arms a little before letting go. “My grandmother told me that once. It was when she was going in and out mentally and I wasn’t sure if it was babble or what, but it made me think of my parents and how much I miss them, and how I judged my grandfather for not being like the picture of a father that I had envisioned. It also made me wonder if she was hoping that my grandfather would pull himself from his past to see what was right there in front of him.” With a gentle smile, he said, “I won’t make that mistake. I won’t ever live in the past.”
She delighte
d in the honesty she saw in his eyes, the fluttery feeling returning.
“It’s also why I decided to move to New York.”
The words washed over her like an icy chill.
“I was holding on to the house because it made me feel close to my grandmother, and I was protective of it because I didn’t feel like my grandfather deserved the home he’d refused to live in while I was growing up, a home my grandmother absolutely loved. But I know that if I can break free from what holds me here, I’ll probably be better off because of it.”
She’d only allowed herself that one moment of vulnerability and then he’d hit her with a big dose of reality, so many thoughts flooding her mind: Who was she kidding, thinking he’d stay? He had nothing to stay for. She’d need to prepare Lucas. His little heart would be broken once Alex was no longer in the house. And how was she going to juggle the new coffee shop plans with caring for William? Should she give up a job that paid well to take a wild chance that the bakery could be successful as a coffee house?
“You’re worried,” he stated. “I can tell.”
She shook her head, but not to disagree; she didn’t want to try to discuss it. There wasn’t any point. Things were what they were. That was it.
“It’s too heavy emotionally in here,” he said. “Let’s get out and bake some cookies.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Noelle held the phone away from her head to save her eardrum as Phoebe screamed through it from across the country, “I got the part!”
“Oh my gosh! That’s so awesome, Pheebs! I can’t believe it! Well, I can—you’re very talented. But I can’t believe it all worked out for you!” She ran a brush through her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail. It was a habit: every time she baked, she’d put her hair up. Gram had coached her to do it as part of the rules for the bakery and she’d carried it into her personal baking as well. “Clean hands, hair up, big smile,” Gram would always say.
“I can’t believe it either,” Phoebe said, “I actually got the lead in a sitcom! It sounds so weird saying it out loud. This is potentially life-changing.”
