Chapter 37
Savannah
My feet are sore, my hips tight, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“So, we’re out of cupcakes, but we still have some gingerbread left, so that should cover us for the after-school rush.” Melissa walks out to the kitchen, the two of us a little tired after a busy day.
“Great, what about the pastries?” I finish feeding Tommy and fix myself before putting him over my shoulder and tapping his back.
“We have a few left. They’ll go after school too, though. It’s crazy; no matter how much you make, we’re never left with much at closing.” She grins, walking to the coffee maker and putting on a pot.
“I know. It’s great, but so hard to judge what quantities to make.
” I frown, thinking about it. I want to be efficient with my time and my ingredients.
I could look at freezing more things, but I prefer to have my items sold fresh, straight from the oven that morning.
But I already get up at four and I'm here early every day. There’s not too many more hours I could put in to bake things for the shelves.
“I think you could make double and still not have enough. But that’s good. It keeps people wanting more. Gives them the scarcity mindset. That’s why there’s always people here first thing in the morning. They want to be able to grab what they need.”
I stand, placing Tommy down in his bassinet for a moment as I stretch out.
“I guess you’re right.” I ponder over her words. She’s smart, such an asset to me and the business.
“Have you noticed any requests lately? Anything people are asking for that I could add to the daily production?”
Melissa grabs two cups automatically, making me a coffee, not needing to ask.
She knows me well by now. She’s like the friend I never knew I needed.
Her husband works all day, and I can tell this job gives her a new lease on life.
She’s so energetic and genuinely happy to be here in the bakery, which makes my job so much easier.
“Nothing too specific. The older guys always come in wanting a pot pie for dinner on their nights they have to cook.” She huffs a laugh and shakes her head.
I’ve come to know Bob from the hardware store and Tim from the toy store well.
Clearly, their wives are happy to have them produce a pie for dinner every Thursday night. It’s cute.
“Maybe I need to change the filling. Keep them from having the same things each week.” I grin as she passes me the cup, and we both look up at hearing the front door open.
“Oh, I’ll go,” she tells me, then puts down her cup and walks out the front. I do the same. I’ve been back in the kitchen all day. I miss interacting with people, especially the locals who have been so welcoming.
“Ahh, Savannah?” Melissa’s voice sounds unsure, and I step through the door and look up with a smile, ready to greet our customer, but it falls from my face quickly.
“What are you doing here?” I look at my mother, seeing Eden right by her side. She’s come back with reinforcements. It took her a while. I’m surprised she waited that long.
“You know why we’re here.” My mother’s voice sounds cold and detached. No warmth, no love. Melissa looks between us, a frown on her face. I haven’t had the time or the energy to explain to her about my family. She’s unprepared for this.
“I’m afraid I don’t? Did you need some pastries?” I fold my hands over my chest and try to stand tall.
“We’re here for Joseph,” Eden says, and my eyebrows pinch in confusion.
“Joseph? Who’s Joseph?” Are they meant to be meeting someone?
“The baby. Eden has decided to name him Joseph.”
“Decided to name…?” Melissa trails off, understandably bewildered. But my eyes remain on my mother and my sister. Watching their every move.
“My baby isn’t here,” I emphasize while praying that Tommy stays quiet in his bassinet.
My mother huffs. “Of course he is, we saw you walk in with him this morning. Stop with the lying.”
I pull in a breath, my heart beating faster. “You’ve been watching me?” I feel angry and scared. Whispers is quiet in the early hours, Griffin driving me and Tommy every day, staying until Melissa gets here and the bakery opens before leaving us to it.
“We have been keeping an eye on the baby, and I have all the formula at home ready to go. Now give me the baby.” Eden steps forward like she has any right to.
“Should I call Griffin?” Melissa looks at me, unsure. She tentatively takes small steps toward the kitchen, and I thank God she’s here, so at least we’re equal numbers against them.
“There’s no need. He’s not family. He’s not required, and this has nothing to do with him,” my sister says, and my anger rises.
“He is family,” I state clearly.
“Faith, you’re being ridiculous.” My mother takes a purposeful stride toward me, toward the kitchen, and I step forward to meet her. Her use of my real name has me on edge. I feel so far removed from that girl now. She halts, apparently surprised that I would stop her.
“Get out,” I grit out, on the verge of tears.
“You’re clearly unstable. Look at you standing in front of Mom like that.” Eden tries to slide past me, and I see what they’re trying to do. Trying to manipulate me with words, which is what usually would work on me. But not anymore. Simultaneously trying to move past me to get to Tommy.
“If you don’t leave, I’ll call the sheriff and have you removed and charged with trespassing.”
They both stop and look at me in disbelief. “Oh, now I know you’re mentally incapable. That baby needs to come with us. You’re not suitable to be a mother,” my own mother says as she pushes past me. I reach out to grab her arm, to pull her back, but as I do, Eden runs past me and into the kitchen.
“No!” I yell, letting go of Mom and rushing after my sister.
I see Eden looking wide-eyed at Melissa, who holds Tommy close to her chest and is backstepping slowly, away from her and toward the back door.
“I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here, but this is not your baby,” Melissa says forcefully, and I couldn’t be more grateful that she’s here.
“Give me my baby! If I need Douglas to come back here, I will!” Eden’s shrieks fill the bakery, and I’m relieved it’s the afternoon slump and no customers are here. This would ruin my reputation, for sure.
I push past them and stand in front of Melissa. Tommy’s looking at her in wonder, having no idea of the storm brewing around him.
“You both need to leave. If not, I’ll call the sheriff,” I threaten again.
I don’t want to. What daughter would ever want to call the police on their own mother?
I’ve moved out of that community. I’ve started my own business, not needing their support or their money.
I’ve built my own group of friends and have a new community here that I love.
And I have Griffin. The man who stands by me every day when he could be anywhere doing anything else but. Why can’t they leave me alone?
“I pray for your soul…” My mother’s loose warning lingers before she snatches Eden's wrist and pulls her out of my kitchen. I follow them, ensuring they walk out of the bakery and that the door closes firmly behind them. I stand at the door, looking out the window, watching them get into a truck I don’t recognize, and I don’t move until the truck is gone.
“Are you alright?” Melissa asks, and I whip around, seeing her still holding my son. I rush over, needing him in my arms.
“I’m sorry. It’s extremely unprofessional… They were my family…” I swallow down the hard lump that’s formed. My hands are shaking, my heart pounding in my ears.
Melissa’s visibly worried and upset. “I think we need to speak to the sheriff…” she says. I probably should. It’s all getting frightening and well out of hand.
“Why do we need the sheriff?” Griffin's voice comes from the back, and I see him step through the kitchen to the front of the bakery, looking at Melissa’s concerned face. His eyes take in Tommy’s content grin next, and then he looks at me, and his frown deepens.
“What happened?” He steps toward me, his arms circling my waist, pulling me and Tommy to him tightly.
“My sister came back with my mom…” I whisper, feeling helpless.
“They tried to take the baby. They called her Faith,” Melissa informs him before looking at me questioningly.
“Faith is my first name. I go by Savannah now, which is my middle name,” I explain quickly.
“I’m calling the sheriff. This stops now.” He pulls out his cell and makes a call. And I don’t stop him. Maybe that makes me a bad daughter. A horrible sister. But I hope that means I’m a good mom.
Because Tommy needs to be protected. Damn the consequences.