The Right Thing
Fiona
Hope works the kitchen like a pro, but it’s not just that she’s comfortable reading a recipe or kneading dough. She’s good with people. Spectacular.
A woman born to be a boss. Which makes sense with who her father is.
Max…I try to hold in the physical sigh I feel. There are way too many eyes in this kitchen, and they never seem to miss a thing.
How could I have screamed like that?
Because you scrubbed every inch of your skin raw except your butt and part of your back—at least you had a small amount of sense in there—and when he touched you, it felt like a combination of daggers and acid burning your flesh.
Pain used to be something that made me realize that I was still alive, even when I didn’t always want to be. Another part of life that you dealt with to survive.
And he startled you. Fear and pain mixed together…that hasn’t happened in years, not since...
Don’t think about them. You don’t have any skin left to scrub off.
Think about anything else.
A beautiful meadow.
A vibrant sunset.
Max…
Why is it that Max always sees me at my worst? He’s probably going to be afraid to get within ten feet of me ever again. I should go out and see if he needs anything. The kids will give him a wide berth because he’s a stranger.
Most of these kids didn’t have to be taught stranger danger. The few we have to keep reminding of that fact have way too many psychological issues to expect to leave The Street anytime soon. I love that they’ll have a place here for the rest of their lives if they need it.
As I walk through the main part of the kitchen, I keep one eye on the new smiling girl. One day, she’d be the perfect person to replace me. But that job will go to someone else. Someone who understands what a gift this responsibility will be for the rest of their life.
Owning this place isn’t a job. It’s a calling. A life. A privilege. A gift that brings infinite joy.
The front of house is just as busy as the back.
My team runs it with precision and fun. The last one is the most important. These kids need to find all the good in life that they can.
“Fiona?” Cammie rushes over to me. “That guy has been hanging around a long time, and no security has shown up. Should I make a call?”
What you should have done was ask me when security didn’t show up a while ago. “No. That’s Hope’s dad. He’s been cleared. But next time, if you see someone you don’t know, reach out to one of the other leads or me. Don’t wait for security to show up.”
“Hope has a dad?”
For kids around here, that’s an oddity. “Yeah, she does.”
“Does she have a family who loves her?”
“Yes.” That’s hard even for me to comprehend, and we’ve built a family of sorts here.
“Do you think I’ll ever have one?”
Like that? Possibly. “You already have a family.”
Cammie stares off into space for a moment.
We can’t just tell them to feel safe and loved.
“I want one like that, too.”
Don’t we all? But promises not within your power to keep should never be made to a kid here…or anywhere. “I want that for you, too.”
“Do you have a family?”
“Other than all of you?”
A smile sneaks up on her. “Yeah.”
“I have Daria. That’s enough for me.” The family I’ve made will always be enough. Why would I even dream about anything else?
Cammie nods as if I uttered words of wisdom. Then walks away.
Kids do that all the time here. You say something, and they wander off to process it like their minds just went into overload.
Time to face Max. Though hiding away for the rest of the day sounds like a much better idea.
And I would have done it if I wasn’t sure he’s going to show up tomorrow too. It’s going to be a long while until he trusts us with his daughter…if he ever does.
Patience, I have plenty of.
Courage, on the other hand, I seem to be completely lacking. All you need to do is walk up and ask him if he’d like a drink or something to eat. You’ve done it thousands of times for strangers and friends.
Max is neither of those. Screaming in his face twice hardly makes us friends, but it also got rid of the strangers option.
Should I apologize? That’s something I tell my kids to do all the time. But what do I apologize for? Being scared? Shouting in his ear because he caused me severe pain? Almost getting him shot?
That one sounds like a winner.
Or I could totally pretend nothing happened.
That’s a brilliantly bad idea.
I yearn to embrace the bad. My life is all about showing these kids that your life can get better when you make the right choices, even if they’re hard.
Ugh.
Fine. Do the right thing.
If only that could be running away right about now. Couldn’t Maddox suddenly have an urgent problem for me to take care of?
Maybe a new kid who showed up…
Fruitlessly searching the bakery for any minute problem would just be prolonging the torment.
GAH!
Put on your big girl panties and get it done.
Does the fact that I’m not wearing any exempt me?
Now you’re just grasping at clouds.
Coward!
Isn’t there a saying about cowards living to fight again? I don’t want to die of embarrassment.
You would have already died if that was possible. Just get it done.
Cookies make any apology easier to swallow. But what kind?
Picking a cookie feels like deciding who he is. Chocolate chip means he’s a traditionalist. Sugar cookie means he’s boring. Coconut pistachio means he’s a little hippie—which, with those long curls of his, it’s a definite possibility.
You’re stalling!
I slip a cookie out of the tree nut case.
If Max hates it, I can grab him another one.
With poise and confidence I don’t feel, I walk over to his table.
Those warm blond curls have fallen into his face as he types on his laptop faster than I’d have thought humanly possible.
But a man like him breaks all the rules of nature.
It isn’t fair to all the rest of the men in the world who have to accept that they won’t ever meet a woman’s expectations like Max.
And now I’m waxing poetic.
Before I can say a word, his head raises slowly until our eyes meet again.
Don’t fall down.
Instead, I should be reminding myself not to get lost in his eyes. It should be impossible anyway. Simply rhetoric or something they say in books. But his baby blues have me completely caught, like whirlpools spinning around with dozens of emotions I’ve only seen swirling between people in love.
My mind is playing foolish games that I don’t wish to play.
Next thing I know, I’ll be tumbling to the ground again if I don’t pull my gaze from his.
Would that be such a bad thing?
Idiot, do you really want security showing up a second time with guns drawn? That’s enough for me to break free. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about almost getting you shot.”
He blinks twice and then starts to glance down, freezing when his eyes hit the floor.
Why isn’t he responding?
Is something wrong?
Is he mad at me?
Max didn’t seem upset earlier. Maybe that was because his daughter was there. People have more control around children.
Wonderful. Just wonderful. “Well, anyway, I’m um, really sorry. Thank you for saving me. I thought you might enjoy a little snack while you wait.”
He sits silently, staring at the floor.
What do I do?
“This cookie is one of the kids’ favorites.
They dubbed this one ‘Leftovers’ and it stuck—basically because it’s true.
Sometimes we’d have odds and ends remaining from the cookie mix-ins, and I didn’t want to add them into the new containers, so the ‘Leftovers’ was born.
It’s one of our top-selling cookies by far.
” Slowly, I place the little dish down by his computer, not wanting to startle him. “Hope is doing fantastic.”
His hand shakes and starts moving towards mine, stopping a millimeter away. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“You didn’t.” The words slip out of my mouth before I can edit them.
Max’s head jerks up until he’s looking me in the face. “Don’t lie to me. Not about this. And not ever.”
He didn’t…He really did, and that felt far more intimate than it should have. My mind is so messed up. This is going to be one more weird thing I’m going to have to try to explain to my therapist. At this rate, I should book the whole evening with her.
But what I can’t do is let Max think that any of this was his fault. “You didn’t scare me. Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
“Anytime.”
What does that even mean? Don’t even try to understand mercurial men. “Well, I’ll be back later to check on you and give you some updates so you don’t worry.” Before he can say anything else, I rush off.