by Sophie Stern
“But...but you aren’t dead,” I said, still not quite getting it. It was her life’s work. The bakery was what she’d spent years working on, perfecting. She’d poured her heart and her soul and all of her love into it and...
She was just giving it to me?
Handing it over?
“I know,” she said. “And I’ve loved my bakery. Really, I have. It’s a wonderful place to be,” she sighed. Then she looked toward the living room. “But I think it’s time to stop.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s time for me to slow down. I need to take care of myself, and I need to take care of Ray. We don’t need the money,” she said. “Ray still has his job, and we have savings, and the bakery...it was just for fun,” she smiled when she said it, and I suddenly realized that she was thinking about all of the wonderful times she’d had in her little shop.
My heart seemed to stop as I let her words sink in.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” I pointed out. “The bakery is...”
It was everything I’d ever wanted or dreamed about...before Jake, anyway. After Jake had walked into my life, I’d changed myself to fit what he wanted in a wife. Only, he hadn’t actually wanted to get married, and he hadn’t actually wanted someone like me. He didn’t want the person I’d been and he didn’t want the person I’d changed into.
He just wanted himself.
The bakery felt like a rebirthing, like a second chance, and I started crying and threw myself into my aunt’s arms. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening. After everything I’d been through, I was getting a chance to chase my dreams again, and it felt good. It felt so damn good. I hadn’t dared to dream that I’d be able to actually work at a bakery. The idea that someone like me could have a place like that seemed impossible, but there I was.
“I won’t let you down,” I sobbed. My aunt stroked my hair, and she seemed to know exactly how much it meant to me that she had given me this opportunity.
“It needs some work,” she said, warning me that it wouldn’t be easy. “I haven’t felt very well for awhile now, hon. You’ll need to fix it up. You’ll need to make it the way you want it to be.”
“I will,” I looked up at her and nodded. It was weird to look at her and see my mom’s face. Sometimes, when I saw her, it still seemed like my mom was still alive, and that was such a strange thought. The two of them so often felt like the same person. They were both unique in their own ways, but twins had such an unusual connection. They had always seemed to know each other better than anyone else in the world possibly could have. Even my Uncle Ray used to make comments sometimes about how my mom was Aunt Hannah’s true soul mate. The two twins had always just seemed to know what the other one was feeling. I knew that losing my mom was hard for me, but sometimes I wondered if it was even harder on Aunt Hannah.
I hadn’t come to visit my aunt in Ashton very often, but she’d come to see me in Kansas City at least once a month for lunch, and every time, I’d been struck by just how much she and my mom really did look the same. We’d have lunch and I’d always pay and she’d always invite me to come visit, and I’d always say that I was thinking about it. I never came to visit, though, and she never pushed. At least, not until now. Now, it was time, and it felt right to be here with her. It was what she wanted, what she needed. Plus, I knew it was what my mom would have wanted.
“I know you’ll make me proud,” she said, pushing back a strand of my hair. I watched her, carefully observing her. Her smile was weaker and smaller than usual, which was obviously a result of the chemo. She looked tired, and she looked worn out, but most of all, she looked...relieved.
I was surprised to see that emotion on her face, and I wondered if this was a decision she’d been wrestling with even before the cancer hit. Had she been thinking about walking away from the bakery? Had she been looking for a reason to give me the shop? She’d known that I was unhappy with Jake, but I don’t think anyone really knew just how bad things had gotten until it was time to say goodbye.
The last few months had been...well, they’d been horrible, and I was surprised at just how long it had taken me to move forward with my life. Jake and I had been holding each other back for a very long time. If you asked him, he’d say I was a train wreck. If you asked me, I’d say he was a selfish narcissist who only cared about his own future at the company. I’d say it didn’t matter who he slept with. He’d do anything to get to the top. Leaving had been a good thing, and now I had a bakery of my very own.
“Maybe coming to Ashton wasn’t such a bad thing,” I whispered.
“Not a bad thing at all.”
2.
Cooper
“I KNOW I’M RUNNING late,” I snapped at my assistant. “There was a wreck on Main, and I’m still on my way to the bakery. I placed an order, and I can’t not pick it up. Hannah will kill me if I make her waste perfectly good ingredients.”
Not to mention the fact that Hannah was the most important person in Ashton. People could say what they wanted, but she was the bread and butter of this town. Hannah’s bakery was the one place where people could congregate and not feel so damn alone. It was amazing what eating a delicious blueberry muffin could do for your soul.
“Just hurry up and get here,” Abigail sighed. Sometimes, she seemed royally helpless without me, which drove me absolutely insane. She’d recently joined the staff at our office. She’d been hired halfway through the school year when my previous assistant went on maternity leave and never came back. Not that I blamed Patricia one bit. Working at a high school was messy and complicated. Working at a high school in an administrative capacity was even trickier. People didn’t know just how much crap we had to put up with. From the parents complaining about assignments to the students conveniently forgetting deadlines, sometimes my job could be a total nightmare.
“I’m sorry,” I said, softening my voice. “I know it’s been a rough morning. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “But Mrs. McMillan was calling all weekend, and...”
Her voice trailed off.
She didn’t need to say anything else.
Mrs. McMillan was the bane of my existence. Everything she did made my life seem so much harder than it had to be. She was constantly complaining, and she was always coming up for excuses for her kids. A lot of parents were like that, but she was worse than anyone else I’d ever dealt with.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle things in Ashton. It was just that sometimes, it would be nice to get a little break from having to handle everything. As the principal, I was supposed to have my shit together. Most of the time, I did. Sometimes...well, sometimes I wished that I had been brave enough to find a job in another city where I could have a fresh start: in a place where nobody knew me.
“Enough said. I’ll be there soon. Hold her off as long as you can.” I ended the call and pulled up in front of the bakery. It was only 7:00, but the lights were on, and I knew that Hannah hadn’t forgotten my order. Good. Every Monday morning without fail, I came by at this time to pick up an order of muffins and breakfast pastries for the office. It was sort of a ritual at this point, and it was, to be honest, the best part of my week.
Hannah was everything I’d ever wanted in a mother figure. When my own mom passed away, Hannah had been there for me. She’d reached out and taken me under her wing, in a way, and she’d helped me through everything. Her twin sister passed away roughly around the same time, so we’d had something we could connect over and cry over together.
I wasn’t embarrassed to admit that I’d bawled like a baby when my mom passed. She’d been incredible, and she’d been good friends with Hannah, so there had been a bond there. My brother cared about me, and he’d been hurt when my mom died, too. Dad had been in pain, as well. Somehow, though, talking to Hannah had helped ease my suffering in a way that talking to my Dad and brother hadn’t. She really seemed to understand exactly what I was going through, and I felt
like I really owed her for helping me through such a rough time.
I shut off the engine and hopped out of the car. Then I headed up to the front of the bakery and knocked. Hannah kept the door locked when she was working this early. She didn’t officially open for business until 7:30, and she didn’t want people coming in early and disrupting her routine. It was only me that she let come in early.
Nothing happened, though. She didn’t come out from the back. Had she not heard me? I knocked again.
Still nothing.
Leaning closer to the door, I realized I could hear something. There was some music coming from the back of the bakery. Who was back there? Definitely not Hannah. She didn’t exactly listen to indie rock. She was more of a classical sort of lady. Besides, she never listened to music while she baked. She either listened to podcasts or just talked to herself. She said that baking was the perfect chance for her to clear her head.
I noticed a sign, just then, at the front door. I hadn’t seen it at first because I hadn’t bothered to look.
CLOSED FOR REMODELING. WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.
What?
Was that serious?
Was this some sort of joke?
Who was in Hannah’s bakery?
“Closed my ass,” I said. Someone was up to no good, and I was going to find out who they were and what the hell they thought they were doing. If someone was going to mess with Hannah’s bakery, they weren’t going to do it on my watch.
I went around to the back of the little building. It was a free-standing bakery, and the back entrance was easy to get to. There was a car parked out back, and a dumpster. I didn’t recognize the car, but it had Kansas tags. The back door of the bakery was unlocked, so I pulled it open and walked inside to the little hallway. The kitchen was to my left, the bathroom to the right, and the front lobby was straight ahead. I walked into the kitchen, ready to ask what was going on with Hannah and the shop, when I stopped dead in my tracks.
There was someone in the kitchen, and it was someone I recognized, but it was the last person I could have possibly expected to see. It was like I was seeing a ghost from the past.
Hannah’s niece, Cordelia, was dancing in the kitchen as she packaged up a plate of muffins and breakfast pastries. Her hair was still long and dark, but now it was streaked with green and purple. The colors suited her and her fun attitude. At least, the attitude I’d known long ago. I’d broken her heart, years ago, and I’d never had a chance to tell her I was sorry.
But I couldn’t stand here watching the curve of her ass as she shook it in time with the music. I couldn’t gawk at her curvy frame or the way her breasts bounced just a little as she sang. I couldn’t be a creeper, so I cleared my throat.
She looked up at me, and she screamed.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” She yelled, throwing a muffin in my general direction. I dodged it, jumping out of the way as it hit the wall beside me and burst into crumbs.
Well, that wasn’t exactly the reaction I was hoping for.
“It’s been a long time,” would have been nice, or maybe, “Woah, talk about a blast from the past!”
“It’s nice to see you, too,” I said drily, frowning. I stepped into the kitchen and took a better look. Yeah, it was definitely Cordelia, but why was she here? And why was she baking? And why did the front of the shop say it was closed for remodeling?
“What do you want?” She said, crossing her arms over her chest. She glared at me, furrowing her brow. It didn’t make her look any less pretty.
Okay, so she obviously hadn’t forgotten her disdain for me. A lot of time had passed, but that didn’t mean much. The idea that time healed all wounds was a joke. That was fine. I didn’t need to dig up old wounds today with Cordelia. That wasn’t why I’d come into the shop, anyway. There was still the matter of the muffins, and there was still the matter of finding out where Hannah was.
“Is Hannah here?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Probably because she doesn’t work here anymore,” Cordelia said, looking up at me sharply. The entire time she was speaking, she was packaging up a set of treats. Were those for my office? Had she come in early this morning and made them? As far as I knew, I was the only one with a standing order at this time each week. Those were probably the treats I’d come for.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. Now what do you want, Clark?”
“Going for my last name. Cold.”
She shrugged. Okay, so apparently she wasn’t in the mood for dealing with me. That was fine. I wasn’t really in the mood for dealing with her, either. I hadn’t exactly come in to Hannah’s little shop just so I could run into a nightmare from the past. Dealing with Cordelia had been hard enough in high school. Now? Well, now I had other things on my plate: bigger things. I had other issues and problems I was facing. I didn’t need to deal with her, too.
“Okay, so I don’t get to know what Hannah’s up to. Fine. I’m here because I have a standing order for Monday mornings. I’d like to pick it up, please.”
“What?” She looked shocked. She stared at the muffins in front of her, looked over at an order sheet, and then back at the muffins. “I only have one order for today.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s mine.”
“It’s for the principal of the high school. It says so right here.”
“Again,” I said. “That’s mine.”
“The principal of the high school is Jeffrey Grey,” she whispered, looking up at me, blinking.
“No,” I shook my head. “He retired. I replaced him.” She had been gone for a long time. Why was Cordelia back in town now? Why had she told me that Hannah didn’t work here anymore? Was I actually supposed to believe that Cordelia had waltzed into town and taken Hannah’s company?
“Why didn’t the vice principal replace him?” She asked. Her voice was still quiet, low. Why did it matter to her so much? I had a million questions, and I didn’t have enough time to ask them all. Besides, I knew she wasn’t going to tell me what I wanted to know, anyway. She was obviously too busy to deal with my incessant pestering. Plus, I was in a hurry. I could give Cordelia the proper, politically correct response about why I’d replaced Jeffrey Grey, but neither one of us had time for that.
“Because he was caught trying to have sex with students,” I said. “So he’s in prison now.”
“What the fuck?” She looked up sharply and shook her head. “I knew it.”
“You knew it?”
“We always thought there was something creepy about him,” she said.
“You and Larissa?”
“Yeah.” Her voice went cold, and I knew why. Shit. I shouldn’t have brought her up.
“Listen, about the order...”
“It’s finished,” she said, shoving the package of food toward me. It was lovely. She’d placed it in a cardboard box and wrapped it in plastic with a big bow on top. I loved Hannah’s food, but she’d never decorated it or packaged it up like this before. Cordelia had really gone above and beyond.
“Thanks,” I said, pulling out the money I owed her. I placed it on the counter, and I turned to leave. I stopped in the doorway and looked back. She was staring at the money, but she hadn’t touched it. “I hope Hannah is okay,” I said.
I didn’t expect for Cordelia to say anything at all, but then her voice came. It was only slightly louder than a whisper.
“She has cancer.”
My heart stilled.
Cancer?
Hannah?
I hadn’t known.
Why the hell hadn’t I known?
“What happened?” I asked. I walked right back into the kitchen and set the food down on the counter that stood between us. Cordelia kept staring at the money. She didn’t look up for a long time.
“Stage four breast cancer,” she whispered. “They don’t know if she’s going to live.”
&n
bsp; Fuck.
Breast cancer was a tricky monster, and catching it so late in the game, well, it wasn’t good.
“They did surgery,” she said. “And chemo. Ray asked me to come in and run the bakery, and Hannah...” She shook her head, and a cold sort of laugh came out. Then Cordelia met my gaze, and I saw for the first time just how pained her eyes really looked.
“What?”
“She gave it to me.”
“Gave you what?”
“All of it,” she whispered, gesturing to the space. “I mean...she just...she just gave it to me. It’s like it’s her way of saying goodbye,” Cordelia whispered. “And I hate that.”
I couldn’t help myself.
I knew the rules.
I knew she hated me.
I knew I didn’t have the right to go around the counter, but I did. I walked right around it, and I reached for her, and I pulled her into my arms, and I hugged Cordelia. To my utter shock, she melted into my arms and held me back, and a second later, I felt her break down into sobs. I held her tightly as she cried. My phone was buzzing – undoubtedly my assistant freaking out that I still hadn’t come to work – but I ignored it.
There had been so many times when I’d wished I could be holding her, and now I was. I had my arms wrapped tightly around the sweetest girl in all of Ashton, and I wondered how I’d gotten so lucky to be able to see her again.
I wasn’t an idiot. I knew there would be no fairy tale second chance for Cordelia and me. I understood that anything that happened after this would be pure chance. There was no such thing as destiny. I knew that. Somehow, though, I’d been given an opportunity to hold her, and I wasn’t going to let her go until I absolutely had to.
Cordelia and I stood in the kitchen until she stopped crying, and finally, she pulled away and wiped her face with the back of her sleeve.
“I’m really sorry,” she said.
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s fine.”
“You should go,” she whispered.
