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?