ZEKE’S BABY

by Evelyn Glass

  Rodgers had objected to including the recipes at first, but Stella pointed out the recipe helped sell other items in the store, most of the people who bought from the bakery would continue to do so because they normally didn’t have the time or skills to make it themselves, and the customers liked the fact that the store was open and honest about how the items were made. He relented, and even expanded upon the idea by having Stella offer baking classes four times a year customers could sign up for. The bakery didn’t make a lot of money, but it was a big draw for the rest of the store, and it was one of the things, along with cut-to-order meat and the store’s diverse and impeccably fresh produce, that separated On A Roll from the big chains that competed on price.

  She pulled a rack of baguettes from oven and placed them on cooling racks, allowing the long loaves to cool as she began to bag the Kaiser Rolls. The big rush started around three and ran until about seven, and she wanted to make sure she had enough prepackaged items ready for the busy moms and dads. She had a clerk to help work the counter during the rush, but she did all the preparation and baking, making good use of the three commercial ovens with steam injection, and the heavy mixer that could handle up to twenty-five pounds of batter or dough at a time. There was never a shortage of clerks wanting to help her because she alway rewarded them for their help with something from the discount table. She suspected Rodgers knew she was giving away items that were about to be donated to the local food bank, but he never asked and she didn’t bother to tell.

  The giant mixer was whirring away as it stirred the batter for her butter sheet cake. She made four a day, two with chocolate frosting, one with vanilla and butter, and one with cream cheese. She was amazed anyone would buy the cakes since they were so easy to make, but it was a rare day that all four weren’t sold. She’d just finished pouring the batter into a giant sheet pan for a cake she would later quarter and frost when she saw the men stride in. From her station in the bakery, she had a good view of the front door and registers, and enjoyed watching the comings and goings of the patrons.

  They were obviously part of a club or organization, each man wearing a black leather vest with a silver shield on the back. Inside the shield was silhouette of a man, shown from the neck up, with lines of silver defining his shape on the black background. The image had glowing red eyes staring out from below his low-riding gambler’s hat and the lower part of his face covered by a bandana. The men all wore jeans and heavy boots, their arms covered in tattoos, and were most definitely not the typical On A Roll customers.

  She’d was sliding the cake into the oven as the men began to line up at the register, loaded down with beer and junk food. She grinned as Robin nervously rang the men out, keeping her eyes down as she performed her task, not that she blamed her actually. If the men had stopped at the bakery, she would have probably been a little intimidated by them, too.

  She watched as they picked up their beer and snacks and walked out of the store, grinning again as Robin visibly relaxed and then turned to face her as she twisted her face into an exaggerated mask of surprise. Stella snickered, gave her a wave, then turned away as the oven began to bleat for her attention, announcing the completion of the four fruit pies.

  ***

  Stella chucked her flour covered apron into the hamper and stripped out of her store uniform of khaki pants and deep green shirt, slipping into a pair of shorts and a light blue t-shirt. The Carolina Diner didn’t have a dress code, other than to dress neatly, so she dressed for comfort. After nine hours at her regular job, she wasn’t in the mood to try to impress anyone with her sense of style, especially for minimum wage plus tips.

  She threw together a quick sandwich for dinner and wolfed it down. She had an hour between her jobs. The bakery closed at eight, and she went on shift at Carolina Diner at nine where she worked until it closed at midnight. The only way she could make it work was both the diner and the store were within a ten minute drive of her apartment.

  By the time she arrived at the diner the heavy dinner rush was mostly over and that usually made for light work. The lighter workload was good, especially after working a full day at her regular job, but the tips were pretty thin, too, which wasn’t as good.

  Two more months. She only had to hold it together for two more months, then her car would be paid for and she could quit the diner job she’d been working for the last year. She smiled at the thought of that. She’d thought she could handle it, and had, but while working three hours a night Tuesday through Friday, and a Sunday morning doesn’t seem like a lot in concept, after a year, the hours really added up. She was mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted and ready to get back to just working at On A Roll.

  That was the problem with being a single mom. Babies were expensive! If something went wrong, like it did when her 2000 Chevy Cavalier coughed up a hairball and died with a seized engine, it left her scrambling. She’d picked up the extra job to pay for her new car, a 2014 Honda Civic, but it had taken time away from Katrina and really put a load on her grandmother. Stella still had mornings with her daughter, but if it hadn’t been for Grammy, she didn’t know what she’d have done.

  Grammy had been a lifesaver through all this, keeping Katrina while she worked. Stella paid her a hundred bucks a week, and for that she got unlimited daycare. It worked for both of them. It allowed her to work at a job she enjoyed and helped her grandmother make ends meet. Neither one of them were getting rich, but they were making it work, they were happy, and Grammy got to see her great-granddaughter as much as she wanted. Probably more than she wanted if the truth were known, though she’d never complained or acted like keeping Katrina was a chore or inconvenience.

  As soon as she finished eating, she loaded her dishes into the washer, started it washing so it would be done when she and Katrina got home, then trotted down the steps to the parking lot. Only two more months she told herself to buoy her spirits.

  ***

  Stella parked in the large parking lot Carolina Diner shared with the strip mall. It looked like it was going to be a busy night judging by the number of cars and bikes parked nearby. She was a few minutes early for her shift, but she clocked in anyway because Naomi was always willing to leave a little early, and Stella knew from experience if she stopped and sat down, she didn’t want to get up again.

  When she stepped out of the kitchen to find Naomi and get the lowdown on her tables, she noticed the men standing in line to check out. Ten of them, all wearing the same vest she’d seen in the store earlier. Carolina Diner was a greasy spoon often frequented by bikers because the diner was motorcycle friendly, the food was good, fast and cheap, and it was less than a half-mile off the interstate.

  “Stella?”

  She’d been squeezing past the knot of men to find Naomi when the man spoke, the voice making her turn in recognition. “Hello, Gabriel,” she said quietly, then moved past.

  Gabriel Prince watched as Stella looked down and stepped away from the register, obviously not wanting to talk to him. He looked down as a fist clenched his stomach. Why would she, after what he’d done? He waited his turn then stepped to the register and paid, then stepped out of the way instead of following his brothers out the door.

  “Go ahead without me,” Gabriel said to Avery Doctson. “I have something I need to do.”

  Doc grinned. “Yeah, I saw.”

  Gabriel gave him a slightly sad sideway grin. “It’s some old business I need to take care of.”

  He waited until Stella finished talking with another waitress, then stepped up to her before she could slip away again. “How you been?”

  “Why do you care?”

  Gabriel grimaced at the rebuke. “I guess I deserved that.” Stella made to step around him without saying a word, but he caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. “Can we talk?”

  “About what?” she snapped. “What is there to talk about? How you walked out on me? How you broke my heart? How you never once called in the entire four years you’ve been gone
?”

  Gabriel grimaced again. “I guess I deserved that, too.”

  “Yeah, I guess you do. Why are you here?”

  “I’m back in town.”

  “Goody,” she said, but her tone said something completely different.

  “I’d like a chance to explain, sometime, if you’ll give me a chance.”

  “Okay, go ahead. I’m all ears.”

  He looked around. “Not here. Maybe I can take you to dinner, or for a drink?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay, I get it. Maybe a coffee after work? What time do you get off?”

  “Midnight, but then I have to get home. I tell you what, why don’t you give me your number then wait by the phone for me to call?”

  “You don’t have to be such a bitch about it, Stella. I’m trying to be nice. I’m trying to explain.”

  “Oh, you haven’t seen me be a bitch yet, Gabriel.”

  Gabriel sucked on his teeth a moment as his mouth hardened. “Fine. Maybe some other time.”

  “Maybe. I have to go,” she said, moving past him and stopping at the table with the teenyboppers giggling while they gushed about Gabriel and his crew.

  “You know him?” Tara asked Stella as Gabriel stepped out.

  “Yeah. A long time ago.”

  “He’s smokin’ hot.”

  Stella grimaced. Tara was right: Gabriel was smoking hot. He’d always been good looking with his dark hair and eyes, and the dimples when he smiled, but in the four years he’d been gone he’d bulked up all the right ways. He filled out his shirt and pants in a way he never could have before, and he’d seemed to have gained new confidence in himself, something he’d been severely lacking before.

  “Yeah, well he’s still a prick.”

  Tara twittered as Alicia and Renee joined their little confab. “Was he hitting on you?” Renee asked.

  “No, he wasn’t hitting on me!” Stella protested.

  “I wish he’d hit on me,” Tara grinned. “I’d give him something to hit. I think he’s still sweet on you.”

  “You know him?” Renee asked.

  Stella rolled her eyes. She like the women she worked with, but wasn’t in the mood to spend all night gossiping about a former lover. “A long time ago.”

  “What happened?” Alicia asked.

  “He dumped me.”

  “Why? What happened? Wouldn’t put out?” Tara teased.

  Stella didn’t rise to the bait. “I don’t know. He called me one night and said he was leaving. Told me he didn’t love me anymore and didn’t want to see me again.”

  “He broke up with your over the phone?” Alicia asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Tara nodded. “You’re right. He’s a prick. How long were you two together?”

  “Almost two years.”

  “Two years? And he broke up with you over the phone? Seriously?” Renee asked.

  “Yeah. We were living together at the time, too,” Stella said, twisting the knife in Gabriel’s back to make herself feel a little better.

  “What an asshole!” Alicia hissed. “You’re better off without him, I don’t care how good looking he is.”

  “I know.”

  “I agree. But I’d still fuck him,” Tara said with a grin before moving off to check on her table.

  “Yes, well, who wouldn’t,” Renee snickered. “Him and a couple of his friends, too.”

  “Well, you can have him,” Stella murmured as she stepped out to check on the two girls at her table.

  CHAPTER TWO

  As the evening wound down, and the diner became empty, the wait staff began to clean up, closing off one section after another. Renee and Alicia left at ten, leaving only Stella and Tara to finish cleaning. Stella giggled as Tara, a woman in her mid-forties and recently divorced, described in intimate detail what she would do with Gabriel, or one of the other three men who had taken her fancy, if given a chance.

  Buy 12:15 the dining room was clean and Stella waved bye as Tara, as the night manager, locked the door behind her so she could finish counting out the register. She plopped down in her little car and thought a moment before pulling out her cell and dialing. Between Tara babbling on about adding the bikers to her list of sexual conquests and the fact it had been more than two weeks since she’d felt a man between her legs, she was in the mood for some loving. And if not that, at least a good sweaty tumble.

  You’ve reached Daniels Construction. I can’t answer the phone right now, but leave a message and I’ll call you right back.

  “Tony, it’s Stella. I was wondering if you had plans tonight. If you get his message in the next fifteen minutes, give me a call, okay?”

  She hung up the phone and tossed it in the passenger seat, keeping it handy in case he called back. He was a decent friend, eleven years older than her twenty-eight years, and always good for a round of slap and tickle. It was a friendship based mostly on sex, but it worked for both of them. Sometimes they would go to a movie, or have dinner, but often it was just a call to have an itch scratched, like tonight. Since she’d given him no notice he was probably already balls deep in some other chick. Tony was a good looking guy and she knew he bedded other women, and she again felt the creeping regret.

  She knew she shouldn’t be disappointed, but she was. She didn’t expect to him sit by the phone and wait for her call, but it would be nice to have someone she could depend on. Not just for sex, but for companionship, as well. She’d dated some after Gabriel left, but it was hard with a kid. A lot of guys weren’t willing to share, and even though a few of them were nice enough and she was attracted to them, they couldn’t handle that Katrina was first in her life.

  Then she’d met Tony. He’d picked her up one night, hadn’t pressured her, seemed to understand he would never be first in her life, and had accepted that role. He was kind, and a giving and gentle lover, but though she tried, she couldn’t find a spark for him to take it to the next level. Sometimes she saw a bit of sadness, and some longing, in his eyes, but he never asked her for more than she could give.

  She snorted. It wasn’t the first time he hadn’t been able to make it on short notice, and it won’t be the last. She’d done the same to him, so it wasn’t like she could complain. The difference was, when she couldn’t make it, it was because her date for the evening was a three year old little girl with coal black hair worn long, huge brown eyes, and a smile that could melt the coldest heart.

  Traffic was light and she made good time, pulling into her Grammy’s drive a bit after 12:30. Connie Hayes, her paternal grandmother, still lived in the same house she and her husband had bought in 1975. It was the only house Stella knew. Built in the 1950s, the red brick house was in a neighborhood of similar homes that was experiencing a renaissance of sorts as young families were buying up the older houses and renovating them. There was a young couple with a son only a year older than Katrina living next door, and Hunter and Katrina was best buddies.

  Connie’s house was neat, and well kept, but showing its age. The darkness hid the tired paint and weed-filled yard. It wasn’t one of the jewels in the neighborhood, but it wasn’t the worst looking house either. Stella stopped behind Connie’s Buick and switch her car off, but left the parking lights on to give her a bit of light to see by. She unlocked the kitchen door with her key and slipped inside.

  “Hey, Grammy,” she murmured as the slender grey haired woman greeted her with a hug. “How was she tonight?”

  “Fine, as always,” Connie said softly, her English accent almost entirely erased by her time spent in America. “She went right down at nine.”

  Stella smiled. “She’d a good kid.”

  “Like her mother.” Connie looked at her a moment. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, why?”

  “You have that look about you. Did something happen at work?”

  Stella smiled. She couldn’t hide a thing from Connie. “No. Just tired and looking forward to a day off. I’ll be fine in the m
orning.”

  Connie looked at her granddaughter. She wouldn’t be more proud of her had she been the queen of her native England. She’d been handed a tough lot in life, but she hadn’t become bitter and had dug in to make the best of it. She wished Henry and Thomas, her husband and son, had lived long enough to see Katrina.

  “Okay,” she replied, though she didn’t believe it for a moment. She knew when Stella was ready to talk, she would come to her. “You know if you ever need to talk…”

  “I know, Grammy. Nothing to worry about,” Stella said, giving the older woman a hug. “Let me go get Katrina and I’ll get out of here so you can go to bed.”

  Stella moved quietly into the back of the house to her father’s old room. Katrina was piled sideways against the pillows, as usual, her stuffed bear, Ted, gripped tightly in her little arm. Seeing how Katrina slept never failed to bring a smile to Stella’s face. The girl could be found anywhere in the bed, though rarely with her head on the pillows and her feet at the foot of the bed. Most common was the position she was in now, sideways, pillows on one side, Theodore E. Bear tucked in tight on the other.