Everybody Falls

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  Please. He couldn't be serious.

  "Okay, then. Since you can follow directions and all," I said as I moved back inside. "Let's get a refill and see if you can prepare the pans while I work some magic."

  *.*.*.*.*

  He watched as she performed the Espresso dance, refilling the cups, each movement sure, short and sweet.

  What was it about her that was so beautiful? It wasn't just the way she looked. Well, okay, maybe a lot of it was the way she looked.

  Or maybe it was the looks she gave.

  "Come with me," she said simply and moved to the swinging doors, holding one side open for him as she went through. He watched as she went to a cupboard and pulled out some white material. "Here's your apron and your cap. Put them on then wash up at the sink."

  Apron? Cap?

  He took them from her and saw her pull a clipboard down from a hook as she began to read.

  Her eyes glanced at him as she began to flip a page.

  "What?" she asked. "You've never worn an apron?"

  He shook his head. Shit, he didn't even know how to put one on. He thought you had to tie them or something, yet the long length he held didn't look like the ones he'd seen on TV or even what Grams wore.

  "Here. Let me show you," Lacey said finally, her mouth moving like she was trying not to smile. She took the fabric back and shook it out. "Bend down."

  He bent and she looped a piece of the fabric over his head then pushed on his shoulder to turn him around.

  "There," she said as she reached for the other white piece. "Bend down again."

  He bent again. This time feeling her hands on his head, sliding her fingers in his hair. It felt so good that he closed his eyes to better savor the feel of her touch. She placed the elastic edged cap over his hair, tucking all the stray pieces in and underneath, stroking the sides of his face and neck in the process.

  The apron made a great cover which helped hide his body's reaction to the feel of her hands.

  "Now go wash up and use the soap in the pump bottle," she instructed, turning back to the clipboard.

  The water hitting the metal of the sink sounded almost like a bass drum which seemed to help him calm his body as he washed his hands. He glanced up and caught his reflection in the window over the sink.

  Shit, the paparazzi would have a field day if they could see him now. Hair completely covered by some kind of shower cap looking thing and the funky apron that went down past his knees was not like anything he'd ever had been seen in.

  Every job had its uniform.

  Even rock stars had their uniforms.

  He turned off the water and looked for something to dry his hands on.

  "Use the paper towels," she said, moving beside him, bumping against him with her shoulder to nudge him away from the sink. She turned the water back on and pumped soap into her hand.

  He saw that she, too, now sported an apron and her hair was covered in the cap thing.

  Ugly costume, yet Lacey worked it.

  "Next?" he asked.

  "Let me get out the pans we'll need and I'll show you how to get them ready," she said a bit louder to be heard over the water. "Can you hit the green switch on the oven?"

  He looked around for a stove but didn't see any. Ovens were the big space under the cook top, right? He didn't see one.

  "Uh, Jack?" he heard her say with a soft giggle after the water shut off. "That big silver thingie there?" she stretched her head to a huge silver cabinet kind of object. "That's the oven."

  Oh, okay. He pushed the green button as instructed and waited until she was done drying her hands. She pulled out a bunch of plastic from a box next to the sink and handed him the gloves, putting on a pair as well before moving across the room to pull out all different sized, different shaped pans.

  And, they began.

  She showed him how to get the pans ready as she worked the mixers set up on another counter. When he was done with the pans, she handed him the different steel bowls she'd used and asked him to wash them. Some of the pans went into the oven, others she covered and put in the industrial sized refrigerator, just like the kind that he and Denny had at the house in Malibu.

  He watched as she sprayed and wiped down the surfaces they'd used before stripping off her gloves and removing her hat and apron, hanging them on hooks set on the side of the swinging doors.

  "Now we can go watch the trees," she said smiling.

  Jax copied her movements and went back to the machine she called Bertha. He went through the steps she'd done before in his mind and moved to make another cup of coffee as he heard her moving around in the work area of the bakery.

  By the time she made her way out to the retail portion, he was already by the outside door, holding both mugs, now filled.

  "You used Bertha?" Lacey asked dragging her eyes from the big cantankerous machine to him.

  "Yeah," he drawled slowly, confused by her tone. "Is that a problem?"

  "Not a problem, per se. She can be a bit of a bitch to work, though, if you aren't used to her," she explained.

  He shrugged and smiled. "I just did what you had done before. She seemed alright."

  They settled themselves on the steps again and he saw that the sunshine was now down to illuminate the trunks of the trees across the road.

  "So what'd you think?" Lacey asked after a time.

  He turned and looked at her. "The baking thing?"

  "Yeah. The baking thing," she answered.

  He gazed at her, amazed by the connection that snapped right back into place when their eyes met and held again. They'd shared glances as they'd worked, however those looks hadn't zinged along his nerve endings like they did when they were out on the steps.

  "It was…interesting. You do that every morning?" he asked.

  "Yep," came her soft reply. "It was nice to have the help. It made it go faster."

  "So when I run by here…" he began. "That's what you're doing? Waiting for the stuff in the oven?"

  "Uhm, usually," she answered and he saw her cheeks go pink. What had she just thought of that caused the blush?

  They were quiet again.

  "I should probably be going," he said finally with a soft smile. "Gram is going to wonder if I've hurt myself again."

  He turned to her and watched as her eyes met his.

  "Thanks for your help this morning, Jack," she said languidly.

  "Thanks for letting me help, Lacey."

  They both heard the ding of the timer and stood at the same time.

  "Let me get you a couple of the lemon muffins to take with you," she said moving back inside.

  He knew he was taking up a lot of her time, time that she needed to use to get her business ready to open. But, he really didn't want to leave. He wanted to be with her, spend more time around her.

  He took the cups to the sink all the way in the back and caught a whiff of what she was pulling out of the oven. It smelled hot, sugary and wonderful.

  She moved back out to store, lifted a domed shaped lid and pulled out two huge muffins. She put them in a sack and sealed it with a small oval sticker she'd pulled off a large roll by the cash register.

  Lacey handed him the bag, her lips again lifted in a beautiful smile. A smile that caused a double bump of his heart.

  Jax felt his lips move almost involuntarily as he smiled back at her.

  Without thinking, he moved closer and tilted his head down towards her. "Thank you," he said gently, his eyes still on her full, pink mouth.

  He saw her smile falter and she stepped back away from him, out away from the counter.

  "You're, ah, welcome," she said, but she wasn't looking at him anymore. Nor was she smiling.

  What had he done?

  Nothing that he could think of, nothing that he could remember. Yet, her actions told him he'd done something that made her uncomfortable; that made her pull away.

  He moved quickly to the front door and made his way outside, only holding up a hand in farewell. H
e didn't want to stay and add to the discomfort he'd caused but he wished he could've taken back or apologized for…for, whatever the fuck it was that he'd done.

  Chapter 6

  "Who was that?" I heard Elizabeth ask as she came in through the back door. Elizabeth or Beth as we called her, was my gal that helped open in the mornings. More than an employee, not yet a friend, I had learned to work with her since she and Grandma Lilly had been very close, in spite their age difference.

  "Jack," I answered, moving back to the kitchen to put more goods in to bake and get the other items ready to be displayed or to be decorated.

  "Are you opening early or did you open just for him?" Beth asked.

  I ignored her.

  She was a dyed-in-the-wool romantic, seeing love in every encounter. Even in the most innocent of meetings, she'd find a nuance, a breath of a possible love connection. Especially if the two people involved were a. single and b. of the opposite sex.

  I wasn't about to give her fuel for that particular bonfire, so I kept my mouth shut.

  "Well, whatever it was, it had him walking backward and doing air punches," she said, putting on the apron that Jax had worn and stuffing her hair under the cap.

  I paid no attention to her words and just went back to work.

  The morning went fast with a slow steady stream of customers that I left Beth to wait on as I frosted and sprinkled, dipped and decorated trays of the different cakes, cupcakes and cake-pops --which were one of our biggest sellers.

  Sarge strolled in right on time just as Beth was leaving. All my employees worked a four hour shift, six days a week, which I'd found strange when I'd first taken over. Why three part timers instead of some full time help?

  I'd figured that Lilly had known what she was doing because the three other people on the payroll: Beth, Sarge and little Chloe who came in to clean in the afternoons all showed up on-time and worked hard for the full four hours they were there. Not to mention, they were always upbeat, never stressed and had the best customer service skills I'd seen.

  Well, okay. Sarge wasn't put in front of the public much but that was only because his shaved head, braided beard and facial piercings seemed to scare some folks. He really was a nice guy and I'd known him since forever. Rumor had it he'd been a cook in the Navy, however I didn't know if that was true. What I did know is that in spite of looking like a hellion, he really was just a big teddy bear with a soft spot for sweets.

  As well as for my Grandma.

  I don't know if they were lovers before she passed, but he was still her number one fan.

  "What's with the two cups in the sink?" he asked Beth as she was stuffing the apron in the hamper before she grabbed her purse.

  I saw her move to the sink and look in, before her eyes moved to me standing just outside the swinging doors.

  "I don't know. I got here and there was some dude leaving, holding a 'Lacey's' bag in one hand, doing air punches with the other," she said slowly. "And I was here at six forty-five, like always."

  "You opening special for some guy, Lace?" Sarge asked me, his eyes narrowing.

  Holy chocolate.

  WTF?

  Don't I get a private life?

  Instead of answering him, I did an eye-roll and moved to help one of the shoppers that were starting to trickle in.

  Our customers seemed to come in waves. There was the first round of regulars which included the seniors that sat at the tables and drank out of mugs with their names written on them, or the commuters that took their coffee and small treat to go. The next wave seemed to be the young mothers who'd sit and gossip with one another over a latte and a bite. The last turn seemed to be the people that wanted to grab something for after dinner, things like full cakes or a box of cupcakes, a bag of cake-pops.

  The last wave left and I locked the front door before moving to put the chairs up on the tables and start to move the unsold goods either into the fridge or to one of the larger bags for Sarge to take to the shelter. The last was something Grandma had always done and a habit I wanted to keep, knowing how many people the shelter fed each evening in the hard times that had hit Auburn.

  I heard Chloe talking with Sarge as I moved around the kitchen, making sure things were cleaned and ready for tomorrow. I slipped the clipboard off its hook, making lists of what stock would need to be replenished.

  "Hey, Chloe," I offered moving back into the big room. She was pulling her roller cart of cleaning supplies in one hand, holding the broom and mop in the other.

  "You want me to start upstairs, Miss Lacey?" I heard her ask. This was a familiar theme. It was obvious that Grandma used to have Chloe clean the small two-bedroom apartment upstairs as well as the store, however I didn't need to have it done. I wasn't messy and found the couple of hours that it'd take to set it to rights on a Sunday kept the dust bunnies at bay.

  "No, but thanks," I said with a smile. Chloe was on the shy side and didn't talk much so I tried to be extra nice. There was something about the teenager, with her glasses and braces which made you want to be extra careful around her. Like she'd been hurt at some point even if you weren't sure how or where.

  "Could you wipe down the shelves in the refrigerated case today?" I asked before feeling the vibration of my cellphone in my back pocket.

  I saw her nod as I answered it. I had no chance of denying the incoming call since it was from Ricki, my best friend. Or as she called herself, 'my partner in crime' even though we had never committed anything illegal per se. We'd just known each other since we were pretty young.

  Ricki's mom owned the 'Beads & Needs' store a couple blocks over, closer to the expensive area of Old Town.

  "Hey, Ricks," I answered.

  "Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod!" she yelled into my ear. "You are not going to believe it! You are so not going to believe it!"

  "Believe, what?" I asked, not even curious. Ricki was a bit, uhm. Enthusiastic? Easily caught up in any and all drama? Was the type that didn't need a reason to bounce? She'd been that way the entire time I'd known her.

  "Okay. Hold on. Are you holding on?" she asked breathlessly.

  That's another thing Ricki did. The breath thing.

  I felt another eye roll coming on.

  "Yep, Ricks. Holding on, uh huh," I replied flatly.

  "There is a rock star in our midst," she whispered. Whispered, for goodness sakes.

  "There is? Wow. How cool," I answered, my tone still flat.

  "No, really. I read it in America's Inquiry and saw it again on that entertainment show on channel twenty-seven," she said, trying to back up her information with sources. Okay so America's Inquiry was a rag-sheet and the entertainment show was, well, for entertainment. I considered these 'sources' suspect.

  "Who is it?" I asked already tired of the conversation. "Which star is 'in our midst', Ricks?"

  "I don't know," she wailed.

  I knew why she was wailing. Lacey liked all the information prior to bringing a subject up, so this must be of huge interest if she didn't have all the facts before she talked about it. "They didn't name names."

  "Okay, I'll bite," I drawled. "What did 'they' say?"

  "They said that it was one of the members of 'WV', a hugely successful band for the last ten years…," she started.

  "That narrows it down," I interrupted.

  "I know, right? It could be Worthy Victors, Wynter's Vicious or Women of Vanity or…" she listed. I could just imagine my crazy friend holding her cell between shoulder and chin using her fingers to tick off the different groups as she spoke.

  "What else did they say?" I asked.

  "They said that he had been in rehab but was now living in the Sacramento area trying to get his life back on track," she intoned and I knew she was repeating what she'd heard in the same voice that whatever the newsreader had used.

  Ricki was an accomplished mimic.

  "Guess that rules out Women of Vanity," I shot back.

  "Oh, yeah. Huh. I didn't think of that," her voic
e now softer as she turned my words over in her mind. "Wait! Didn't that lead singer of Wynter's Vicious die last year or something?"

  I didn't keep up on all the celebrity news so I didn't answer.

  "You wanna meet up at Mercy's later for a cider?" she asked.

  Nope, I did not. Mercy's was where I met whats-his-name and where I dumped whats-his-name. I did not want to ever step foot in Mercy's again.

  "How about you come by instead. I've got wine and a lot of leftover lasagna we can nuke," I counter-offered.

  "Cool. Maybe by then I'll have more info!" Ricks said brightening.

  Great. More celebrity talk.

  It still beat eating alone.

  "Five-ish?" I suggested and could tell from her reply she was bouncing.

  Holy chocolate with raspberry sauce.

  *.*.*.*.*

  Jax left Lacey's on a high. A natural high that left him feeling almost giddy.

  She'd let him into her business and showed him how to do stuff. Let him do stuff.

  Okay, so it wasn't exactly what he'd wanted to be doing with her. Shit, just spending time with her was head-bumping. At least, it was for him.

  He walked back to Grams holding that white bag, the bag that Lacey had given him and felt he'd smiled the whole way home.

  "Hey, Hot Stuff," she greeted when he'd made his way in the back door. "Where've you been?"

  "I left you a note," he said, his body stilling.

  They used to have some wicked arguments, he and Grams, when he used to take off and not tell her where he was. Not that he'd really gone anywhere except to be alone. It wasn't until the last blow up, the one when she'd started crying that he finally got it, that he understood why she'd get so mad.

  She was scared shitless he'd been out trying to fucking off himself again.

  What the courts said was a suicide attempt.

  But, in his mind?

  He had just tried to escape the pain of losing Denny as he'd walked fully clothed into the ocean. Leather clothes, as he discovered the hard way, don't float.

  "I saw your note and I thank you for it," she said, smiling tenderly. "I just thought maybe you'd have been back sooner."

  "I was at Lacey's. I helped Lacey in her bakery this morning," he said after a pause, his smiling breaking out again just to be able to say her name. "She gave me some muffins."