He needed time to think.
The question became, how much time could he take to regroup before she changed her mind again?
A pile of work sat before him. Picking up a small box of parts sent him by a customer, he headed back to the shop and his foreman’s glassed-in cubicle. If they could tool the small gear to precision, it would be a good order. One that would repeat itself over the years to come with reorders.
His mind wandered.
In order to wrap his energy around work, he needed to figure out how to respond to Madeleine. Tonight wasn’t going to work. Not on the anniversary of her husband’s death. He had to tell her something. He told her he would call. No different than his father, he would blame work for being unavailable.
He stepped into a quiet corner to tap out the text message.
Let the holidays pass, he thought. Then he’d check back with her the first of the year and see how things were going. See if she’d gotten a job or would work in the bakery for a spell. Try asking her on a date again. If she refused, it was over.
****
Madeleine’s icy fingers shook as she read his message. Somehow, she had hoped he would call, not text, so she could explain it didn’t feel right to go out on such an important and sad day in her life. Could they make a plan for another day? Then he’d know she was serious about seeing him again. Pulse throbbed at her throat. Still, she wasn’t buying his lame excuse. That hurt most thinking he’d had a change of heart about her. Jess had a sensitive punctual nature. No way would he cancel dinner with Tamara, Jamal, and Crystal for work.
Her emotions tangled in a mix of disappointment, then relief sure the postponement was temporary. Jess ended the text with: catch up with u soon.
She also had to admit her continual refusal to grab a coffee, lunch, or dinner could chink away the determination of any hearty soul. That, too, may have played in to the sudden problem at work?
Well, tomorrow she’d go to work in the bakery. She could have gone in today, but told her folks she needed a “recovery” day. Her mom worried she’d mope about and dwell on the day’s meaning. It didn’t take a lot to convince her that yesterday had wiped her out. It did.
How strange she felt more upset over Jess’s message than losing her job. Computers That Run might not have been her dream job, but getting the old heave ho rattled her cage with a good shake to her already battered confidence.
Thoughts of Danny and what she lost fell into an entirely different category. One that would always be private and sad and nostalgic with good memories held close to her heart. A heart, she was surprised to find, that bled less painful than even six months ago.
After two years of being a widow, new hope surged. With it came the assurance that Danny wanted her to find happiness. She sat at the kitchen table, propped her elbows there, and clasped her fingers together. She leaned her forehead against them, closing her eyes, she thanked God for the short yet incredible life and love she had known with Danny and prayed for guidance into her future. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. She prayed for a sign that Jess might be her future.
Her arms collapsed upon the table to rest her head there and sob. After allowing herself a good cry, she stood and got a drink of water. Yes, her heart was on the mend. One good cry might do it today.
Exhaustion overtook her so she went upstairs to take a nap. Upon waking, Madeleine rolled over and drifted back to sleep. By the time she woke a second time, her room had the pall of late afternoon. Unwilling to give in to the temptation of sleeping into the night, she got up to prepare dinner. It was the least she could do. The family would be tired after a busy day at the bakery and there would be no free pass tomorrow. Her cell rang. Belmar Bakery flashed in the ID screen. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi. Wanted you to know I’ve been thinking about you today.”
The two-year anniversary didn’t need to be mentioned. Her family would never forget the date. “Thanks, Mom. I’m good. Sounds busy there.” The familiar buzz of activity made her wish she had gone into the bakery instead of pining the day away.
“It is, but I had to call.” Tension raked across her mom’s voice. “You won’t believe what happened.”
“What?” Madeleine hoped Jess had stopped by to find her.
“Grams dropped an entire tray of warm pies. She almost cried she was so upset with herself. It broke my heart.”
“Grams?”
“I know. It jarred me.” Grams might be a handful, but the family loved every single grumpy, opinionated inch of her.
“Poor Grams. Now I feel guilty I didn’t come in to help.”
“No. That wasn’t my intent. Besides, Dad solved the problem. He has her icing cakes in a quiet corner.”
“God bless Dad. He knows she loves icing.”
“Really. He amazes me sometimes. Anyway. Gotta run. Love you, honey.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Concerned over Grams, Madeleine hung up the phone. Grams could easily handle one day a week in the bakery, but when the holidays came and everyone picked up the pace, she insisted on more days and hours. Christmas. Easter. Graduation. It didn’t matter. Belmar’s prime historic downtown location and long-standing reputation made the entire staff dead on their feet by day’s end after a holiday.
Of late, she often overheard her mom and dad discuss the sticky issue of convincing Grams to retire without her thinking she wasn’t needed anymore. She had started the bakery with Gramps forty years ago and deserved respect for what they built. It didn’t change the fact Grams worked too hard for a woman pushing the back end of her seventies. She didn’t envy her parents having to help Grams see retirement was deserved and not their intent to push her out the door.
Washing her hands, Madeleine set out to prepare a beef roast her mother left thawing on the counter. The searing meat cracked and sizzled in the pot. Madeleine twisted the knob on the stove to turn off the gas before easing into a chair. Everything seemed so screwed up. She needed to remember Danny on this important day. On the other hand, she felt disappointment that Jess found an excuse not to see her. It depressed her Grams would soon be too old to work in the bakery. Even her Mini sat broken at the mechanic. And now she had to face job hunting.
Life was never going to be the same.
Life was never going to be truly happy.
She even considered the happy turned sad scene over pizza with Jess and Crystal. She dissected every word, every nuance, and more importantly, the kiss. Kisses. The flutter of desire sent butterflies flitting about her abdomen. Two years marked a slow return of those thoughts and desires. Not bad when she considered Sue Blakefield remarried six months after her Marine husband lost his life on a remote battlefield.
Slipping the browned roast into the oven, topped with onions, salt, and pepper, Madeleine put potatoes in the sink. She picked through the utensil drawer for a potato peeler glad for the necessity to cook and the distraction it provided. It pushed her away from feeling unneeded and back to normal.
Done for the time being, her gaze fixed on the tin of cookies setting on the counter. “Why?” she asked the beautiful angel. “What’s it all mean?” She raised an eyebrow. “What? You don’t have any answers either? Didn’t think so.” She set the tin in the pantry where she couldn’t see it and finished preparing dinner.
Four days remained until Christmas Eve. The culmination of events required she make a conscious effort not to plunge head first into the murky depths of depression as she ticked off her holiday tasks. Christmas presents bought. Check. Christmas presents wrapped. Check. Jess finally rejected. Check.
Jess’s change of heart worried her. Especially, after he bothered to show up at her place of business to ask her to lunch. Or had instantly phoned her the minute she texted about the Mini. After such a delicious kiss she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Maybe he would call her soon—maybe later—maybe not at all.
Think a happy thought. Christmas was coming fast. Men were notorious for putting off their shopping u
ntil the last minute. Hadn’t Christmas been her excuse? She resolved to be patient.
The next day Madeleine went to the bakery and worked the retail section that freed up Grams to putter in the back with helpful jobs Dad doled out. Every ring of the bell over the door made her heart lurch. Was it Jess?
“Can I help you?” She approached a teen scoping out the donut case. Straight shanks of black hair hung over his forehead and nearly shaded his eyes. Clean cut otherwise, she figured the teen used his hair to exercise his growing independence like Crystal did...like she did at a teen.
“What’s that called?” He pointed. His eyes focused on the donut.
“Long john.”
“Anything inside it?”
“White cream. It’s really good.”
“I’ll try one.”
Without eye contact, the boy paid with a ten and left. She grinned. One would have thought he bought a condom. Since she hadn’t seen him among the smattering of teens that occasionally came in after school, she wondered if he was new to the area and in walking distance of the bakery. They sat at the edge of the old downtown residential area.
When he came in again a couple of days later, Madeleine smiled to think her new customer had a sweet tooth. “Hi. You need a donut?”
He answered with a shrug, his eyes down. He seemed good at pointing. “Those any good?”
“Which? The ones with chocolate or vanilla icing?”
“Chocolate.”
“The chocolate frosted one has custard inside. It’s my favorite.”
“I’ll try it.” He snapped back his head to flick hair from his eyes and stare at her. “You always this busy?”
Its Christmas, kid, she wanted to say. The store held at least six customers browsing with indecision. Her mother worked with a customer at the cake counter. And a part-time helper checked her customer out at the register. “Midday it slows down. You go to the high school?”
“Don’t live around here.”
Somehow Madeleine knew that wasn’t true. Whatever. It sucked being a young teen. And doubly awkward when very shy like this boy. She didn’t push to make him comfortable. His love for sweets would bring him back.
The next day business was steady but not crazy. Grams called it the calm before the storm—two somewhat predictable days before Christmas Eve. Typically, there would be the morning rush, slow at mid-morning, pick up at lunch then slow again until dinner time, where there’d be another spurt.
Then it would be Christmas Eve. The bakery would be a mad house from the moment they opened their doors until they closed early at five.
They were in the bakery’s mid-afternoon slump when a gang-banger type strolled in, after her mom removed cash from the register and went to the back office.
His dress put Madeleine on alert. She watched the young man hunch over the cake case where they kept cold éclairs, lady fingers, and cream puffs. In the next case, trays of Napoleons, tiramisu, chocolate dipped strawberries and apricots filled the top shelf. Below came the cakes. Layered delights Grams loved to frost and decorate dominated half the case. The large coolers behind the counter held boxed pre-ordered cakes, waiting for pick up.
Somehow the boy didn’t look the type to eat anything from the case. It made her suspicious.
And it put her on edge that she couldn’t see the teen’s face, partially covered by a hoodie under a winter jacket. Orangy streaks filled the dark hair that covered his forehead. Baggy jeans hung low with his briefs more out than in. Both hands were shoved deep in his pockets as he leaned over the case for a better look. She wanted to tell him to push the hair out of his eyes and ask Santa for a belt.
Too early for school to be let out, she hated mentally labeling him as trouble. But the crawl of suspicion made her skin pebble in discomfort.
The bell above the door chimed and in walked two ladies, who obviously knew each other, chatting about Christmas. A man in a long dress winter coat soon followed. Then a young woman with a toddler in her arms also came into the store. It was then that Madeleine noticed the teen in the hoodie had ducked out the door without a purchase.
Relief she wouldn’t have to deal with the unknown made her smile broad at the squirming toddler, eyeing the brightly decorated cookies in the case. “Can I give her a cookie?” Madeleine asked the mom.
“Sure. She likes anything with red on it.”
Madeleine handed the toddler a small butter cookie with red sprinkles and received a very appreciative smile. She made a squeal and grabbed the treat with cute, chubby fingers. Her saucer blue eyes never left Madeleine as she jammed the treasure in her mouth, dusting her mother’s shoulder with crumbs. The mom brushed them to the floor without much notice. It became the highlight of Madeleine’s day.
Time slugged along. Two slow days made her look forward to tomorrow’s Christmas Eve rush.
After a steady flow of customers around dinner, things quieted right on schedule. At seven, the three part-time clerks left. The bakery stayed open until eight the two weeks before Christmas. A hardship on everyone as it usually closed at six. Those two extra hours seemed to be especially taking its toll on her mother, who always insisted on closing.
“Mom, you’re tired, go home. I’ll close the store tonight.”
“It’s because I don’t sleep at night. Gram’s right, you know. I am missing my hormones. Nothing feels right. I sweat. I’m cold. I can’t sleep. I’m too tired to give your dad the attention he deserves. Then I get crabby and so does he.”
Madeleine laughed, but she knew her mom was serious. “Go home. Take a sleep aid and hop in bed.”
Her mother heaved a deep sigh. “And I’m feeling guilty for getting upset with Grams over her bluntness. I doubt she realizes how much I’ve come to depend on her. I don’t know what I’d do without her, really. She always makes dinner. It’s such a help.” Madeleine knew Grams’s recent decline coupled with the smashed tray of pies had hit her mom hard. She added emotional to her mom’s list of mid-life doldrums. “I do love her,” Janet seemed to say for her own benefit.
“She knows, Mom. Believe me. We all love Grams, but I think she likes to shake us up once in a while.” Madeleine grinned. “Maybe it’s because we’re such a dull lot.”
Her mom laughed. “I’m certainly feeling dull at the moment.”
“See. We’d have no entertainment if she didn’t speak her mind. Now go home. Eat. Take a pill and go sleep. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. I need not tell you what that day will be like.”
“I hate to start popping pills, but I am exhausted. Just don’t let Grams know she’s got it right. We’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Believe me. My lips are sealed. I’m no more up to I told you so’s than you.”
“You said that was entertainment.” Her mom raised an eyebrow at Madeleine who laughed. “You sure you’re okay to close?”
“How many times have I closed? Hundreds.”
“Okay, then. I’ll make a plate and put it in the microwave for you to warm up.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Madeleine reached out to hug her mom. She remembered a time when the simple gesture would have been skipped to get out of the place a couple of seconds sooner.
So much had happened in her relationship with her mother since becoming a widow. New maturity in how she viewed her parents for one. As an only child, she knew they enjoyed her returned presence to the family unit. But Madeleine wondered if she had stayed too long, thinking it her way of saying thanks for their support when she suspected it hindered her from moving forward. She’d become too secure in the cradle of love her parents provided.
And definitely gone were the days of taking things for granted. Like two hands. Even the gesture of food waiting in the microwave filled her with gratitude.
Her mother appeared small tonight as she shrugged into her winter coat, winding a colorful knit scarf Grams had made around her neck. Like Grams, her mother personified “the little engine that could.” They waved a final good-bye
and the back door clicked shut. She hoped her mom wasn’t getting sick.
“Life is short,” Grams said to distraction. “Don’t spend it feeling sorry for yourself.” Good words of advice she often ignored because the crusty delivery made her tune out. Grams’s ways were old world and tough love. And boy, she did make it tough to stomach some of the things that spilled from her mouth.
After losing Danny, she fretted over everyone in her family leaving her behind. First Grams. Worries her mom might be sick or her dad working too hard. Today she added Jess to the list.
Why didn’t he call or stop by? At this point, she wouldn’t squabble over a text and its impersonal meaning.
Only one customer came in after her mom left so Madeleine busied herself wiping down glass and sweeping the wood floor in front of the cases. She put things away in the back. At five minutes to eight she decided to lock the door and close out the register then put if off.
The process only took minutes. After counting the cash and placing it in a zipped money bag, she would run the register’s end-of-the-day tape. That went into the bag with the money and locked in the bakery’s small safe. Her father would do the accounting before work began the next day. When the bank opened two doors down, her mom would make a deposit.
Madeleine did help with the books from time to time. Without a job on the horizon, she vowed to set up a computerized accounting system and drag that portion of Belmar Bakery into the twenty-first century. Ideas flowing, she poked around on the office computer before she realized it was after eight.
She headed for the front of the store to lock up and turn off the OPEN neon sign. She came through the short hall and arrived behind the counter as the gang-banger she’d seen earlier burst through the door. Her heart catapulted to her throat.
“I’ve got a gun,” he announced in an adrenaline-filled voice. He raised the pocket of his jacket to indicate it was there. “Turn out the lights.”
“We don’t have much money.” True. Her mom had locked up the bulk of the day’s cash. He’d only get the little they’d taken in over the last hour plus the hundred they kept in the register to open the store.
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