The Bachelor Baker

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The Bachelor Baker Page 15

by Carolyne Aarsen


  A tall man with a head full of salt-and-pepper hair and wearing a golf shirt and khaki pants stood with his hands clasped behind his back, looking at the window display Melissa and Amanda had put together. Amanda had found some old Bygones school yearbooks, designed a banner in support of keeping the school open and made a display around them.

  “This is a great idea,” the man was saying. “Supporting the school like this. I hope it works out.”

  Brian felt a jolt of shock and surprise as he recognized his former boss, Robert Randall. The last time Brian saw Mr. Randall the man had looked haggard and worn as he handed Brian his pink slip.

  But today Robert Randall looked much happier and as Brian saw his grin, hope swooped through him. Had Mr. Randall come to tell Brian that the factory was opening again? That he too had been the recipient of the grant money handed out to people like Melissa?

  His former boss’s visit to the bakery coming so close on the heels of his own thoughts created a hope Brian hadn’t felt in a long time.

  Things were going to be okay.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Randall,” Brian said with a wide grin. “What can I do for you?”

  Mr. Randall frowned as he glanced at Brian, surprise flickering on his expression. “So what are you doing here?” Mr. Randall asked.

  “I work here now,” Brian said.

  “Quite different from your work at the plant, I imagine,” Mr. Randall said, looking around at the display cases full of pastries and pies and the racks of bread that Brian had baked this morning. “Very different.” Brian mentally compared the muffins he had just made to supervising heavy equipment worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. His old job had required planning, fast thinking and organizational skills. Manly work. The kind of work Brian excelled at.

  “Funny how our lives take these twists and turns and the good that comes out of it,” Mr. Randall said with a smile that reignited Brian’s spark of hope.

  “Good?”

  Mr. Randall nodded. “The factory was such a huge part of my life and I’ve done what I could to get the factory going again.”

  Going again.

  A weight Brian had been carrying since he walked out of the plant with a pink slip in his pocket finally slipped off his shoulders when he heard those words. Mr. Randall was starting up the factory again and Brian would get his old job back. He could come to Melissa on equal terms. He wouldn’t be her employee anymore.

  He could make plans for a future.

  “That’s great,” Brian said, feeling like a kid at Christmas. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

  “Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough,” Mr. Randall continued. “I’ve decided to cut my losses while I still have some equity in the place. I’m putting the land and the buildings up for sale.”

  The words fell with a heavy thud.

  “What? Selling the land? Closing the factory for good?” Brian’s brain doubled back as he struggled to keep up with what Mr. Randall was saying. “You’re walking away from it?”

  Mr. Randall’s decisive nod extinguished the last spark of Brian’s hope.

  “That factory cost me more than I can begin to count,” he said quietly. Brian wondered if Mr. Randall was talking about the divorce he had just endured.

  “However, that wasn’t the main reason I came here today,” Mr. Randall continued, giving Brian an apologetic look. “But because I ran into you here, I thought it would be best you hear it from me and not through Bygones gossip.” He took a deep breath as if centering himself, then glanced at the display cases. “My biggest reason for coming was to buy some doughnuts. They weren’t in stock the last time I was here.”

  “Still don’t have any, but...but we are thinking of adding them,” Brian said, clenching his fists to try to regain control of his flailed emotions. He couldn’t even feel the slightest bit of satisfaction that he had been right about the doughnuts and that he and Melissa were making plans to buy the equipment. Not after the bomb Mr. Randall had dropped into his life.

  “Can I...can I get you anything else?”

  “What do you recommend?” Mr. Randall asked.

  “The chocolate almond bars are good. Pound cakes are great. The apple tarts are always a hit.” Brian ran through the list on autopilot, still trying to absorb the shock Mr. Randall’s words had given him.

  “I’ll take a dozen of the squares and two pound cakes,” Mr. Randall said, smiling as he pointed out which ones he wanted.

  Brian’s movements were automatic as he set the bars on a Styrofoam tray, then wrapped them in plastic. As he sealed them, he pulled in a long, slow breath.

  For so long, buried in the back of his mind was the dream the factory would start up again fueled by the various rumors that had flown through the town. When Mr. Randall laid him off, Brian had hoped it was a temporary closure. Everyone thought Mr. Randall was regrouping after his divorce from his wife, Linda, last year. Having her leave him after twenty-seven years of marriage probably blindsided him and Brian thought he just needed time to adjust. There had been rumors of downsizing and maybe retooling the plant. Whitney, they reported, had said the same thing. Brian had taken this job thinking it was only a temporary measure. And now?

  But you like working here.

  Brian held the words a moment, recognizing the truth of them.

  The smell of bread baking, the challenge of trying different recipes, the satisfaction he got from seeing the result sitting neatly on the trays with the decorative edging Melissa insisted on; all this gave him a feeling of gratification new to his life.

  However, he could not escape the reality that he was still an employee working for Melissa. He had made more money working in the factory than he could ever make working in the bakery.

  And in the bakery, Melissa was the boss.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Randall.” Melissa’s happy voice called out from behind him. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m doing okay,” Mr. Randall said. “I’m sorry you don’t have doughnuts yet, but Brian persuaded me to try a few other items.”

  Melissa laughed and put her hand on Brian’s shoulder. “The doughnuts are part of a future plan. I wasn’t planning on carrying them, but Brian has convinced me.” She smiled at him as she tightened her hand. “It’s not the only good idea he’s come up with.”

  Brian knew she didn’t mean her praise to be patronizing, but that’s how it felt.

  “Brian is a valuable employee,” Mr. Randall said. “You’re lucky to have him.”

  “That I am,” Melissa said.

  “I was worried about him when he left, but I’m glad to see him settled in another job.”

  Brian’s frustration with his situation bubbled over. He jerked his shoulder away from Melissa’s hand as he took Mr. Randall’s money. He gave him his purchases, mumbled an excuse, spun around and walked to the oven, ostensibly to check on his muffins. They wouldn’t be ready for another four minutes, but he didn’t want to stick around listening to his former boss and current boss talking about him like he wasn’t even there.

  Employee of the month, that’s what he was, he thought, tossing the cloth he’d just used into the sink. Then he walked past the oven to the back door of the bakery. He slapped his hands against the metal bar and stepped from the heat of the bakery into the heat of the afternoon.

  He leaned back against the rough stucco of the wall, thinking again of Melissa and Mr. Randall talking to each other. Each on equal footing. Each a boss of Brian.

  He glanced at the park across the street, his brain spinning in circles. Mothers chatted at picnic tables nursing cups of coffee from Cozy Cup Café. Dale Eversleigh sat at another table playing chess with Elwood Dill.

  The sound of kids squealing sifted over the wind toward him, creating an ache of melancholy. By this time in his life he had assumed he would
have been married with a couple of kids.

  He dragged his hands over his face, sending up a hasty prayer.

  Please, Lord. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.

  Everything that had been normal and ordinary in his life had been swept away the past few years. His parents. The farm. His job. His plans and dreams for his own business.

  Now he was dating a woman whose independence and values were opposite of everything he had hoped for in a wife. A woman who he didn’t feel he could come to on equal footing.

  He pulled in another breath, his duties slowly pulling at him. The muffins were probably ready, he thought, pushing himself away from the wall.

  He yanked open the door and strode through the back of the bakery. Melissa stood by the worktable, muffins cooling on a rack as she took a bite of a steaming muffin.

  She glanced up as he approached, looking guilty. She licked an errant crumb off her lip. “These are actually pretty good,” she said, leaning against the table and trying to catch his eye. “The apple peel definitely gives the muffins another flavor and texture.”

  He pulled in a breath, recognizing that she was extending an olive branch, and he sensed from the puzzlement in her voice that she wasn’t sure why she had to.

  “Glad you like them,” he said.

  She returned his tentative smile.

  “I have a few errands to run,” she said, wiping her hands on a towel. “I’ll be gone for a bit. Thought I’d let you know.”

  “Sure.”

  He knew he was being curt, but he felt as if he walked on shaky ground, not sure where his foot would land next. If he started talking, he was scared he would say the wrong thing the wrong way.

  His feelings for Melissa were deep and strong.

  And confusing.

  “Are we okay?” she asked, reaching out to him.

  He took her hand, wrapping his fingers around it and struggling to articulate the mixture of feelings coursing through him. He cared for her more than he had ever cared for anyone else. He found himself wanting to make plans. Plans for a nebulous future.

  But how could he think of that when he felt inadequate? When he felt he couldn’t even meet her as an equal?

  Something had to change, he thought, running his fingers over her knuckles. Now that Mr. Randall had delivered the death knell to the chief part of Brian’s plans for the future, he would have to do what he thought he never could. Find a job outside of Bygones.

  He thought of his grandfather but realized that in this situation he now had to think of Melissa.

  He looked up at Melissa, then gave in to an impulse and brushed a light kiss over her forehead.

  “We’re okay,” he said, giving her a gentle smile.

  She nodded, reluctantly drew her hands out of his, then turned and walked back to her office.

  Brian watched her leave the bakery, then returned to his work, his hands working automatically as he rolled out dough for cinnamon buns, a new venture for him. But all the while he worked, he struggled to sort out the events of the past few hours.

  And the decisions he felt he had to make.

  * * *

  “Sorry I’m late,” Melissa puffed, setting her iced cappuccino down with one hand and hanging her purse over the back of the chair. She and Lily had been trying to get together at the Cozy Cup Café for the past few days. It was Wednesday morning and it had finally happened. “I got waylaid on my way here by Dale Eversleigh. He wanted to know if I needed more help business-wise, that kind of thing.”

  He had also talked a little too long with a little too much eye contact. She hoped that somehow, somewhere he would find somebody else to turn his dubious charms on.

  “They must have had a meeting of the SOS Committee last night,” Lily said, taking a delicate sip from her lemonade. “Coraline stopped by the store today, too, to ask me how the business was going. I wish I could tell her that huge amounts of money are pouring in so she can give a favorable report back to the SOS Committee, but I can’t. I wonder if they’re getting pressure from the guy Whitney always calls Mr. Moneybags.”

  “Maybe. Whoever that person is.” Melissa caught her worried frown. “But the shop is doing okay, isn’t it?”

  “Last week was slow and I have to remind myself that I can’t judge how my business is doing by one week.” Lily wrinkled her nose, then adjusted her glasses. “How about you?”

  “The Farmer’s Market did well for us,” Melissa said, almost feeling guilty that her business was picking up. “Brian hit a good idea there, but it also made us busy. We’re trying one in Junction City next weekend once Gracie and Trent’s wedding is over.”

  Lily folded her arms over themselves, leaning forward. “And how are things going with you and Brian the Burly Baker?”

  “I’m not sure.” Melissa blew out a sigh that puffed up an errant strand of hair. “We had a fight yesterday. I think.”

  “About what?”

  “Gracie Wilson came to the bakery yesterday and after she left Brian made some comment about how easy Gracie will have it once she’s married. He got all old-fashioned and I got nervous thinking he meant any wife of his should stay home and I made some crack about needing my independence and making my own money.”

  Lily pursed her lips. “What did he say to that?”

  Melissa shook her head, running her finger through the damp circles her cup had left on the table. “Nothing. He just clammed up and then this morning we got into a discussion about apple peel and muffins,” Melissa released a light laugh, still surprised she got so huffy about something so simple. “And then he got kind of ticked and next thing I know he’s giving me a kiss. I don’t have a clue what he’s thinking. Plus he was gone for a while yesterday and wouldn’t tell me where he was going.”

  “It’s probably nothing.” Lily waved off Melissa’s concerns with a flip of her delicate hand. “Maybe he had to leave for a dentist appointment or doctor’s appointment. Guys hate talking about that kind of stuff.”

  “Maybe I’m overreacting,” Melissa agreed.

  “Maybe.”

  Melissa took another sip of her cappuccino, still not convinced, but she didn’t want to harp on her problems about trying to figure Brian out.

  Their conversation roved from relationships to business to talk of Mr. Randall putting the factory and its land up for sale and what affect it would have on the town. Inevitably the chat moved back to Gracie Wilson’s wedding.

  “I’m worried about that girl,” Melissa said, finishing her drink. “I got the feeling she’s getting cold feet and now I have to find a way to tell Mrs. Morgan that Gracie wants carrot cake and not red velvet cake.”

  “You have fun with that.” As Lily finished her drink she stood. “But I should go and do my own damage control for the Morgan wedding.”

  “One more week and we can go back to ordinary life,” Melissa said, getting up too. Lily laughed, said goodbye and left.

  Melissa glanced at her watch. She had told Amanda she would be back at two, and she still had to talk to the accountant. Then she had to post some bills at the post office and pick up the mail.

  As she gathered her purse, the door of the coffee shop opened, bringing in a wave of heat from outside and Mr. Randall with it. As the door whooshed shut behind him, he glanced over and caught Melissa’s eye. He smiled, walking toward her.

  “Are you on your way back to the bakery? Amanda told me I needed to talk to you about a cake I want made for my daughter, Renee. I forgot to mention it when I was in on Monday.”

  “Sure. Let’s go there now,” Melissa said. She could do her other errands later.

  “Renee’s not a kid anymore, but I thought I would make her day special, what with all that’s been happening lately.” He gave Melissa a sheepish smile. “Sorry.
I don’t mean to dump my problems on you.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, holding up her hand. “Let’s go to the bakery and we can figure out the perfect cake for her.” She tossed her cup in the garbage and gave Josh, standing behind the counter, a quick smile. “Thanks for the iced mocha latte.”

  Ever since their handshake agreement about her providing exclusive pastries for his coffee shop, Josh had given her her choice of free drinks. She had protested, but he insisted, telling her it was simply good business sense.

  Josh acknowledged her thanks with a tight nod as he wiped his hands on a small white towel, frowning as he watched Mr. Randall leave.

  Melissa felt Josh’s concern. She was sure he had also heard the news of Mr. Randall’s decision to sell the factory property. Like her, he was probably also wondering about the repercussions for Bygones. Though the factory had been closed for a while, Melissa was convinced there were people who had hoped it would start up again.

  “Did you have any flavor in mind?” Melissa asked as Mr. Randall opened the door to the bakery for her.

  “Chocolate. It’s her favorite.”

  They walked into the bakery, and Melissa saw Brian bent over the counter writing on some papers in front of him. He looked up just as she came in, a frown deepening the set of his eyes.

  Then he grabbed the papers and shoved them in an envelope, bending over to put them away. He looked guilty.

  What was going on?

  “Afternoon, Mr. Randall. Melissa, you’re back early.” He frowned. “I thought you had some other appointments.”

  “Mr. Randall wants a cake for his daughter.” She hid her hurt as she turned to Robert. “Why don’t I show you what I’ve done so far? I have a binder in my office we can look at.”

  She skirted the counter Brian stood behind, walking past him to her office with Mr. Randall following.

  “Before you leave, I’d like to talk to you,” Brian said.

  Melissa spun around, but he was looking directly at Mr. Randall.

  “Of course,” Robert said.

  Melissa shot Brian a puzzled glance, but he turned away without making eye contact, which bewildered her even more. Something was going on.

 

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