by Sophie Stern
She stared at the floor in front of her, and I knew well enough when it was time to say goodbye, and so I went. I took the package of muffins and lifted it up. Then I walked through the kitchen and back out the rear exit, and I walked around the building to my car. It wasn’t until I sat down and started the engine that I finally pulled out my phone to see twelve missed calls.
Fuck.
3.
Cordelia
AS THE DAYS PASSED, I started to get a feel for how the bakery should look, and an idea for how it should be run. My aunt had managed Savored all on her own for most of her retirement, but I decided that I wanted someone to help me out. I started interviewing potential candidates, and by the time I’d been back in Ashton for two weeks, I’d found two different employees: a high school senior named Beatrix and recent graduate named Kyle. They both seemed like great assistants, and I was looking forward to helping them learn more about baking while simultaneously getting the help I needed to keep everything running.
I loved my aunt, but her kitchen needed some serious upgrading. I’d saved a ton of money while I was working in the city, so investing in my own business wasn’t a hardship for me. I replaced the ovens, sinks, and counters. I had the flooring in the entire building redone. I even hired someone to remodel the bathroom. The only thing I didn’t mess with were the pictures on the walls in the front room. I repainted everything, but I hung every single picture back where it belonged, with the exception of the picture of Cooper.
That one remained off the wall, and I promised myself I wouldn’t replace it. Besides, the chances of my aunt seeing it and becoming upset with me were minimal. She was in the hospital a lot for her chemo, and even on non-chemo days, she mostly rested at home. The drugs really took it out of her, and I wasn’t about to push her to get up and walk around. She needed rest, and if she wanted to sleep, I was going to let her sleep.
I visited with her and Uncle Ray a lot, and I took over a lot of the chores around the house. I paid Kyle to start mowing their lawn for them. That way, they wouldn’t have to worry about it. Beatrix’s mom was a housecleaner, and I paid for her to start going to my aunt’s house and cleaning it, too. It wasn’t that money could buy everything, but it could buy a lot, and it could definitely buy convenience. I didn’t want my aunt doing a damn thing that she didn’t have to do. So even though she fussed at first, after that first visit from Beatrix’s mom, my aunt changed her tune and decided that having someone else come clean her house wasn’t so bad, after all.
Slowly, but surely, I readied the bakery for its grand re-opening. Within a couple of weeks of me taking over, people knew that Hannah was sick and that her weirdo niece was taking over the bakery. People stopped outside to peer in, but I always ignored them, and I never answered the door. After that first week, I expected that Cooper wouldn’t show up for his breakfast basket, but he did. Every single Monday he showed up, came in the back door, left the money on the counter, gave his regards to Hannah, and left.
He never said anything else, and I didn’t, either. I had no interest in trying to rekindle something that had been broken long ago. Day in and day out, I worked at the bakery. Cooper was my only customer, and I only baked for him because my aunt had made him a promise. It was important to her to uphold that promise. I had the feeling that if I didn’t do the baking for his regular order, she’d somehow get out of bed and do it herself.
I didn’t like the idea of Hannah over-exerting herself, and so I baked.
A week before the re-opening, Beatrix and Kyle were hanging out in the front of the bakery, sipping on some smoothies I’d made. I was trying a couple of new recipes out, and they were my paid testers.
“This one’s good,” Beatrix pointed to the banana smoothie. “That one, not so much,” she said, gesturing in the general direction of the kale smoothie.
“So no veggies, huh?”
“Not a chance,” Kyle agreed. “Nobody comes to a bakery and gets a kale smoothie.”
“Yeah, at least none of the high-schoolers,” Beatrix said. “My friends want something that tastes good after school. Not something healthy.”
“That’s something a mom would drink,” Kyle said.
“Hmm, maybe I’ll leave it on the menu for the moms then. It can be called, I don’t know, the Soccer Mom Smoothie.”
They both laughed, but shook their heads.
“Trust me on this,” Beatrix said. “Ditch it.”
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Maybe.”
One of the hardest things about designing a menu was figuring out how to meet the needs of all of my clients. Savored was located downtown, and it was its own little building. It sat on a street filled with shops and restaurants and was in the bustling heart of Ashton. It was close to the high school, so it was a good place for people to stop by after class and grab a muffin, but it was also close to a fitness center, a dance studio, and a few other local activities that meant people could grab a bite on their way home after a hard workout.
I had to figure out a way to make my menu appeal to everyone, but I figured that my team was right. Kale was definitely out.
“So when is your aunt coming back?” Beatrix asked. “She wants to come in and bake from time to time, right?”
Aunt Hannah had recently started asking if she could come and help out around the shop. I didn’t mind at all, but because the chemo weakened her immune system so much, we were going to have to be careful.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “She wants to, but...”
“My grandma had cancer,” Beatrix confided. “And she wasn’t allowed to be around anyone for what seemed like a million years.”
“Anyone?”
“Anyone. The doctor said that because her immune system was weakened, even a cold could kill her. We kept her on lockdown until she was done with chemo.”
“That sounds extreme,” I said.
“You do what you have to do,” Beatrix shrugged.
“I guess that’s true,” I said. “But I don’t know about Hannah. I know she wants to come bake, but the place is going to be busy. There are going to be lots of people in and out, and I don’t know if I can actually trust anyone not to cough or sneeze when they’re in here.”
“Maybe you should let her come in one day before the opening,” Kyle said. “Like, the day before.”
“Or even the day of,” Beatrix added. “She could help you prepare that morning. It could be good for her. Plus, it might make her happy to feel like she’s part of the grand opening.”
“Not a bad idea,” I said, looking at my employees.
They both just laughed. How did I get so lucky to find two teenagers who seemed so damn smart? They both had good heads on their shoulders. They were both kind-hearted and gentle. I liked them a lot.
“All right,” I said. “You should both get going.”
“We have half an hour left,” Kyle glanced at the clock.
“Don’t worry. I’ll pay you for the time,” I said. “But we’re about done, so you can both take off now.”
They didn’t need to be told twice, so they both grabbed their backpacks and a couple of cookies we’d practiced decorating, and then they took off. I walked around the building one last time, locking up and looking around. How had I gotten so damn lucky to be at a place like this?
It really was wonderful. I was just getting ready to head out the back door when there was a knock at the front of the shop.
I headed back to the lobby and was a little surprised to see Cooper standing there. Why had he come to the shop? For a second, I thought about pretending I hadn’t seen him, but he waved at me, and I realized he could see into the shop better than I could see out of it. Whatever.
“What’s going on?” I asked, opening the door. I didn’t move aside to let him in. He looked tired, and his hair was messy, but it didn’t stop him from looking damn beautiful. I hated how my stomach turned, flip-flopping at the sight of him. He didn’t deserve to make me feel that way. He’d broken m
y heart long ago – him and Larissa both. I didn’t want to spend any more time with him than I needed to.
“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Okay.”
“I have a favor.”
He held up a stack of flyers. They were for a special attraction at the town fair, which was happening that weekend. I knew that Kyle and Beatrix were both going to be at the fair, but I hadn’t really planned on going. It wasn’t that I disliked fun. Not at all. I just...well, I didn’t really have a reason to go to the carnival.
“What do you want me to do with those?” I asked.
“Can I hang one in your window?”
“The shop’s closed,” I said. “Nobody’s even going to come by. We don’t officially open until next Monday.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “It would be advertising for our carnival booth.”
“Like I said, we’re closed.”
“People walk by this shop every day and peek in,” Cooper smiled, and my stomach did that annoying flip-flop thing. Shit. I thought I left those emotions behind when I was 16 and he broke my heart. Nope. Apparently, they were still there and in full swing. When I was dating Jake, I never felt that way. I never had any need to control my impulses. He’d never made me feel anything like what Cooper was making me feel.
Wild.
Young.
Scared.
“Didn’t you know that?” He asked.
“Not really.”
I’d noticed people looking in from time-to-time, but most of the time, when I was in the shop, I was focused. I wasn’t just paying attention to my work: I was forgetting about everything else outside. I played music as loud as I wanted, and I danced around, and I painted or decorated or made listened. I practiced different recipes and worked on designs. I did so many different things that didn’t involve looking outside of the shop.
Did people really look in that often?
“Well, they do,” he grinned. “Not just for you, either, although I’m sure people appreciate that view quite a bit.”
Was he complementing me?
“But people really love Hannah around here,” he continued before I could read into his comment. “Everyone thinks she’s incredible.”
“That’s because she is.”
“I know,” he said.
“And that’s why I think your shop would be a great place for our flyers.”
“What are you advertising, anyway?”
“Our booth,” he said, handing me a flyer.
“Is it a kissing booth?”
“No.”
“Then why would I advertise it?” I winked, feeling suddenly playful. It was the first time in a long time when I didn’t feel like punching Cooper in the face.
I could make jokes.
I could be fun.
I looked down. It was an advertisement for a raffle they were doing. The high school was going to be auctioning off crafts and gift baskets in order to raise money for Hannah.
Wait, was that right?
I looked again, and then I looked up.
“Like I said,” he softened his voice. “We all really love her.”
“I’ll hang up the flyer,” I whispered.
“Thanks.”
“Does she know you’re doing this for her?” I asked.
Cooper shrugged, smiling.
“Hannah doesn’t really pay attention to the way people adore her. She treats everyone like a friend, though. Everyone loves her because she’s basically been a mother to the entire town. Now it’s our turn to help her out.”
“The money is going to help with her medical bills,” I whispered.
“More than that, I hope,” he said. “She deserves to be comfortable. Hopefully it will help with all of her expenses, depending on how much we can raise.”
“Was this your idea?” I wanted to know, suddenly. I couldn’t quite pinpoint why it was so important for me to know who was behind the decision to raise money for my aunt. From the looks of the flyer, they had gotten donations from several major businesses in town, as well as crafts and other baskets from students and parents alike.
“Does it matter whose idea it was?” He asked carefully, looking at me.
“A little.”
“Why?”
Because I wanted to know if Cooper was a good guy.
Because I wanted to know if he was the kind of guy I could trust and count on.
Because I wanted to know if Cooper Clark had a good heart, and I wanted to know if I’d completely fucked up by leaving town all of those years ago. He had hurt me, pained me. I’d lived many years trying not to think about him at all. My senior year had been a nightmare. He’d gone off to college, but he and Larissa had dated long distance, and he’d come back for senior prom with her. I hadn’t been there. I hadn’t wanted to face him, so I’d spent the entire night smoking weed at the lake by myself, reading a book and blaring music.
It had been super lame, but wildly calming.
Had I made a mistake by misjudging him?
Maybe he wasn’t the vicious villain I wanted him to be. Maybe he’d grown and changed. I certainly had. Being with Jake had stomped out so much of my creativity. I was only recently starting to find it again. For years, I’d pushed down the person I wanted to be. Maybe Cooper had done the same thing.
“It just does,” I finally whispered.
“I don’t buy it.”
“It matters to me.”
“You want to know if I’m a dick or if I’m thoughtful.”
He called me out.
He always had.
At least, until the day when I’d been planning to ask him to prom.
After that, we’d never spoken again. He’d tried. He’d called me a few times and he’d even come by my house, but I hadn’t wanted to see Cooper. I hadn’t wanted anything to do with him or Larissa.
Not ever again.
“What if I do?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He sighed and shook his head.
“It was a long time ago, Cordelia.”
“I know,” I said. I didn’t feel like rehashing the past. I didn’t want to talk about old wounds that had hurt so deeply that I’d never come back to Ashton.
“It was my idea,” he said softly.
“I thought so.”
“Hannah is important.”
“I agree.”
We stood there for a minute, awkwardly. I wasn’t really sure what to say to the boy I’d known for so long. Somehow, it didn’t seem like it was time to say goodbye, but I had no idea what else I should say to Cooper.
“So how do you like being back in town?” He asked. He slapped a mosquito off his arm, and I stepped back, gesturing him into the shop.
“Come on,” I said. “You don’t want to get eaten up alive.”
“Wow,” he said. “How thoughtful. Thank you.”
He stepped into the shop and I closed the door behind him, locking it. When I turned back around, I just kind of looked at him for a moment. I didn’t know if this could get any more awkward, and I kind of hated that. He raised an eyebrow.
“Locking me inside?”
“I just don’t want anyone else to wander in,” I said. “It’s bad enough that people come by during the day sometimes and want a muffin or a cookie. We aren’t open yet, though: not officially. You’re our only regular customer right now.”
“People miss Hannah,” he pointed out.
“I know. Hopefully they’ll feel like the place still has the same charm once we open back up.” It was something I’d been worried about. I wanted people to like the place even though Hannah wasn’t going to be running it. It still felt like I was stealing from her, on some level. I didn’t like that feeling. The bakery had been a gift. I needed to accept that.
“With you in charge? It won’t be a problem.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He seemed so certain.
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
“You’re
always in control, Cordelia.”
“You haven’t known me in a long time, Coop.”
Coop.
I shouldn’t have called him that.
If he noticed, he didn’t let me know. It was a tender sort of nickname, and it was one I hadn’t used in what seemed like a million years.
Coop and Cor.
That’s what it should have been.
That’s what we could have had.
“I don’t know,” he said, casually glancing around the room. He gestured at the space. I’d worked hard on it, and I felt like it showed. “Take a look.”
“I’m looking.”
“You’re still a hard worker.”
“I wasn’t a hard worker when you knew me.”
“That’s not true at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were always working hard to keep your grades up and help other people out,” he said. “Always. One hundred percent of the time.” He had noticed me struggling and trying my best? It had been hard getting through middle school without a dad. All of high school had been hard for me. I missed the idea of having a father. Mom had never remarried, so I often felt like I needed to make myself as small as possible at home. I didn’t want to burden her or cause any stress for her. She was doing her best to keep me safe, so I always figured I could do my best, too.
For her sake.
“I think you’re thinking of yourself,” I pointed out. “I remember you volunteering after school to help underprivileged kids.”
“I only did that to impress you,” he said softly, gently.
My heart stopped.
Suddenly, I felt like I was going to throw up again. Why the hell did Cooper make me feel this way? And why did I suddenly feel like I’d missed something really important as a kid? For years, I’d run over the sequence of events that had changed my life, but I’d never been able to actually find any answers.
Maybe this was my chance.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “You hated me.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“In what world, Cordelia?”
“In my world,” I said. “You were always teasing me and laughing at me.”
“What are you talking about?” He looked confused.