“About that,” she set her drink down and looked at me. “Cordelia, I’ve been thinking.”
That sounded ominous.
“Okay,” I said slowly, carefully. “What have you been thinking about?”
“The future of the bakery,” she said. “And I’d like you to have it.”
Her words were simple and concise, but they didn’t quite register at first. She couldn’t be saying what I thought she was saying. Savored was her pride and joy.
“You...what?” I asked, not quite understanding what it was she was trying to tell me.
“I want you to have the bakery. It’s yours. All of it. Consider it your inheritance.”
“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.