Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
WILLOW
My phone dings with a text message just as I park along Main Street. I fish in my purse until my fingers find it and a smile tugs on the corners of my lips when I see Jace’s name on the screen. I tap on his name and open the message thread.
Jace
Hey. Do you need any help in the shop today?
Willow
Nope. There’s really not much left to do, honestly.
Jace
Can I still see you anyways?
My stomach flutters and my heart skips a beat as I stare down at my phone with a stupid grin that appears every time he messages me now.
Willow
I’d like that.
I’m about to walk into the bakery to see if Miss Maggie has some time to talk.
Jace
Let me know when you’re done with her.
I want you to see you later.
Willow
Okay.
There’s really only one thing he could want to see me for, so I don’t bother questioning him. I’m already running late for my meeting with Miss Maggie after unexpectedly having to drop Noah off at the farm store before his therapy appointment on my way into town.
Climbing out of my car, I throw my purse over my shoulder and drop my keys into my bag. Miss Maggie has owned the bakery in town for as long as I can remember. It’s been passed down, generation to generation, in her family and she’s been running it for years now.
The bell chimes as I enter the store and a rush of warm air surrounds me. It’s a stark contrast to the cold, fall chill in the air outside today. The sweet aroma of sugar and butter infiltrates my senses, and I take a moment to breathe in the scent of happiness in food form.
The glass cases are filled with so many different pastries, although at this time, there’s only one or two of each kind left and some are sold out. Miss Maggie does very well here in town. Her bakery is known for miles, bringing in customers from surrounding cities.
A young woman behind the counter lifts her head and a smile stretches across her lips when she spots me.
Her brown hair is pulled back in a messy braid with some free curls springing free, framing her delicate face.
There’s a dusting of flour across her cheek and up above her eyebrow.
Her green eyes hone in on me, bright and cheerful.
“You must be Willow, right?” She closes one of the doors to the glass case. “Aunt Maggie said you were coming by today.”
I tug my scarf loose, unbuttoning my coat as I walk to the counter. “You’re Miss Maggie’s niece. Natalie, right?”
I knew she looked familiar when I first walked in. She lives in Manhattan, but she’s been here before to visit Maggie.
“Yep,” she nods as she pops the P. “She told me you were coming by this afternoon. She was hoping she’d be able to meet with you, but she’s having a pretty bad flare up.”
Miss Maggie has multiple sclerosis and her flare-ups really take her out sometimes.
“I know she has trouble sometimes, but I didn’t realize it’s been getting worse for her.”
Natalie nods, her lips pulling into a straight line. “The cold weather seems to make it worse for her. I’m in between jobs, so I came to stay with her for a bit. That way she’s not alone and has someone to help her if needed, and I can run the bakery for her if she’s unable to.”
“That’s so kind of you.”
She gives me a small smile and a shrug. “The things we do for family, right?”
“I get it,” I say, giving her a look of understanding. “My brothers decided it wasn’t worth keeping the maple store in town open anymore, but I know how much it meant to our grandmother, so here I am, trying to reopen it myself.”
Natalie’s smile spreads wider. “You do get it then,” she says with a soft laugh. “That’s what brings you in, isn’t it? Aunt Maggie said you wanted to talk to her about collaborating on some baked goods.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lifting my purse onto the counter, I dig out a few small bottles of maple syrup.
“The Harvest Fest isn’t far away and I thought it would be really cool to do things that would benefit multiple stores.
We’re already doing a maple latte with Sweet Grounds and I thought it would be really special to have a cookie or some kind of pastry. ”
Natalie’s eyes glimmer with excitement and something that resembles a new and exciting venture.
“I actually really love that idea,” she says, clapping her hands together.
“Maggie already gave me the authorization to make decisions on her behalf and I honestly can’t imagine her not wanting to do it.
” She holds up her finger. “Give me one minute.”
She’s a flurry of flour and excitement as she spins on her heel and heads into the backroom.
As the door shuts behind her, I walk along the glass cases, bending down to look at the name tags for all the different sweet treats.
If it were Wednesday, I’d grab a loaf of bread.
I wonder if Natalie will continue to do the bread if Maggie isn’t spending much time here anymore.
Natalie comes bouncing back through the door with a notebook in one hand and a pen in the other. “Okay. Let’s brainstorm.” She flips open the book and sets it down on the counter. “Unless you have ideas already?”
“I don’t,” I admit, smiling sheepishly as I move back to the other part of the counter. “I was hoping maybe Maggie, or you, would.”
“No worries, no worries!” She waves her hand dismissively.
She pulls her gaze from mine, her eyes kind of glazing over as she stares off into the distance.
After a few moments of silence stretch between us, her eyes flash back to mine.
“What do you think about a maple butter cookie, so there’s maple in the dough and we could have some with a maple glaze too? ”
“Oh, that sounds delicious.”
Her face lights up at my approval. “Doesn’t it?
” She clicks the end of the pen and starts jotting some things down on the note pad.
“I think I’ll try that and maybe we can do one that’s almost like a salted caramel, but it’s salted maple.
Hmm. I’m not exactly sure, but if you’re okay with it, I’d love to play around with some other ideas. ”
“If Miss Maggie trusts you to run the whole show here, I trust you with whatever you want to do.”
Her smile stretches, revealing two dimples on either side of her cheeks.
“Thank you. That really means a lot to me.” She clicks the top of the pen again and sets it down.
“Obviously, I’m new here and this is my first time ever taking over a business.
When I said I was between jobs, it wasn’t because I was fired.
It was a personal choice… for personal reasons. ”
I stare at her for a moment, not sure if I’m supposed to ask what the personal reasons were. “What did you do before?”
“I worked at a bakery in Manhattan. I actually studied abroad to be a pastry chef and then managed to get my dream job when I came back to the states.”
“That must have been hard,” I say, offering her a sympathetic smile. “To choose to leave your dream job.”
“It’s fine.” She waves her hand dismissively again, a nervous laugh escaping her. “I’m sorry, I have a tendency to overshare sometimes. I’m working on it in therapy.”
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head at her. “It’s okay, Natalie. We all have things we’re working on.”
“You’re right.” She nods as her smile returns. “It’s all of our first times living.”
Her words strike something inside my chest, plucking at a chord deep inside.
It’s the first I’ve ever heard anyone say that before and I’ve never heard anything so profoundly true.
It really is everyone’s first time living.
We’re all just out here doing our best and trying to figure it out without a handbook.
“That is so true.”
“Kind of scary if you think about it, isn’t it?
” She says with a giggle as she tucks her stray hairs behind her ears.
“Anyways, before I end up pulling you down a rabbit hole with me…” She drops her gaze to the three small bottles of different shades of amber liquid.
“Do you want me to make a different cookie with each syrup?”
“I think we could just do one.”
“Okay, perfect,” she says, nodding eagerly. “I’ll test recipes with each and we can do a little tasting and compare notes to see which one we think might be the winner.”
“Love it.” I adjust my purse on my shoulder and pull out my phone. “Are you okay with exchanging numbers? That way we can just text if we need to discuss anything about the cookies?”
“That works for me.” She pulls out her own phone and tells me her number. I call her so she has my number to save in her contacts and save hers in mine. “I’ll probably have the recipes worked out and some samples to taste within the next few days. Like three or four days? Is that fine?”
“That’s great. Just let me know!”
“Okay! We’ll talk soon, Willow,” Natalie says with a bright smile as she reaches for an empty mixing bowl.
“Bye!”
Leaving her to it, I head back out of the bakery and onto the sidewalk with a renewed sense of hopefulness. This was the last piece that I needed and as long as nothing comes up, everything should fall into place perfectly.
Pausing outside of the storefront, I look back in through the bakery window.
A smile tugs on my lips as Natalie measures flour and dumps it into a metal bowl.
Her energy is infectious and she radiates positivity.
I’m really excited about this collaboration and maybe even the possibility of a new friendship.
“You ready to go?”
On my left, Noah steps up beside me, holding two bags in his hands. “Oh hey,” I say after the initial shock subsides. I knew he was going to meet me here, but I was just lost in thought and hadn’t noticed him walking up. “I am if you are.”
“How did it go?”
“Really well,” I say, smiling at my brother.
He’s not looking at me anymore. Instead he’s staring through the bakery window, curiosity written all over his face. “Who’s that?”
I follow his line of sight and find Natalie dancing around the bakery. “That’s Miss Maggie’s niece, Natalie. She’s staying with her and taking over the bakery for the time being.”
“Hm.” Noah’s eyes linger on her floating around the bakery. “I haven’t seen her around.”
“She’s been here before to visit Maggie, but you must not have noticed her.”
Maybe not then, but he certainly is noticing her now.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” he says softly, his eyes still trained on her. Another moment passes and I blow out a breath. His eyes quickly flash to mine and he turns away from the window, clearing his throat. “Shall we?”
I bite back the grin that tugs on my lips. “Yep.”
Noah glances back at the window once more before he turns away and starts to walk in the direction of my car. My footsteps are light as I follow after him, my mind reeling over the way he was watching her. He’s quiet as we both get in the car and I don’t bring her up.
If he wants more information about her, he’ll ask… or he’ll just get it himself.