Chapter 23
MONDAY
TAYLOR STILL HAD plenty of time before his date with Chelsey. He didn’t want to sit at home twiddling his thumbs, so he decided to sweeten his plan with a slice of homemade comfort.
Annie glanced up from the table she was cleaning when Taylor opened the door to Bake Me Happy.
“I was hoping to see you before you left town.” She pulled him into a hug. “Let me grab some sugar for the two of us. I’ll be right back.” She hurried off to the back.
Taylor studied the interior of the bakery a little more closely.
Annie had updated the place into a 1950s soda jerk type of vibe, with tall barstools, vinyl booths and even an old jukebox in the corner.
When Taylor got closer, he found the machine held a CD player.
A Neil Diamond song with an upbeat rhythm came on.
“‘Sweet Caroline’ is a favorite with the high school crowd.” Annie nodded to a nearby booth. She held two plates with a sweet roll on each and set them on the table; the rolls were big enough to fill the plates. “Let me grab a couple of glasses of milk.”
Taylor sat down, his mouth already watering.
He breathed in the yeasty aroma of freshly baked bread and rolls.
With all his extensive travels in Asia and Europe and all the various delicatessens he’d eaten, nothing compared to Annie’s raspberry sweet rolls.
Was it because of loyalty that he felt that way? Or maybe nostalgia?
“Nice, cold glass of milk for one of my favorite patrons.” Annie set the drink near Taylor’s elbow, handed him a straw and sat across from him. “What brings you out my way? You aren’t leaving right now, are you?”
Taylor swiped some frosting off the side of the sweet roll and ate it. “I might stay put for a few more weeks.”
Annie crossed her arms. “Might?”
Taylor cut into his roll with his fork and shoved a big piece in his mouth without answering.
“Taylor Compton.” Annie rapped him lightly on the knuckles with the handle of her fork. You tried that trick with me all through high school and did it ever stop me from getting you to talk?”
Taylor shook his head and wiped his mouth off with a napkin.
“So why do you think it’s going to work now?” Annie leaned her elbows on the table and waited.
She was right. Somehow, Annie could always drag the truth out of him. He took a long drink of milk and wiped his mouth with a napkin again. Where to start? How much to tell?
“Have you and Chelsey had a chance to chat about the past?”
Guess he was starting right there; Annie didn’t mess around.
“I—”
“You owe that girl an explanation.”
“I know—”
“And you owe her an apology.”
Taylor pushed his plate away. “It’s just that—”
She settled back. “Let me tell you a story.”
Taylor might as well settle in. Annie was a good listener and didn’t dispense cheap advice. If she had something to say it was important and he needed to hear it.
“Did you see that little bench on the side of my building in the shade of the aspens?”
He took his time to think over her words. He wasn’t sure he liked the direction this conversation headed, but he needed to hear it if he had any hope of getting forgiveness from Chelsey.
“After you left the first time, Chelsey wandered around town completely lost, her head bowed most days. A couple of times I found her leaning against my store.”
Taylor couldn’t eat any of his roll much less look at it now.
“I put that bench out there for her. I tried to feed her, put a few pounds back on her. Sometimes she ate, sometimes drank a soda, but most times she stared at nothing.” Annie sat forward. “Then one day Chelsey said, ‘Annie, give me the biggest cinnamon roll you got.’”
Taylor hated the thought of Chelsey losing weight—and her spirit. What he hated most was that he was the direct cause of her pain. He wasn’t able to fix the past but maybe he could help heal the wounds he didn’t see.
“She ate that sweet roll in under two minutes. She ate two more before she got sick. Do you know why this is important?” Annie’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think she’d made a decision about her future yet. Do you know what she chose? Neither. She blazed her own trail between the two paths.”
The silence that followed Annie’s “story” wove around Taylor and squeezed the air out of his lungs.
“Taylor, you’re a good man. You’ll know what to do to fix things.” The plated sweet roll slid into his view. “I’ll leave you alone with your thoughts and sugar.”
Minutes passed before Taylor reached for his fork.
His mind took the well-worn path he went down too many times to admit, starting with the day he left for Asia to build and live his dream.
This time he looked at his memories from a different angle.
Taylor knew his parents had protected him from any angst in the valley; he asked them not to pass on any news about Chelsey.
He didn’t think he could handle hearing news of Chelsey getting married and starting a family.
Now he wondered if it would’ve been better to know how Chelsey was doing.