Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
A t the end of the week, I couldn’t stand my four walls for another second, but I also didn’t want to see another living person. I couldn’t bear to explain my failure or giving up, whichever the case may be. So, I waited for midnight.
TheBakingChick: I’m sneaking out.
PotatoBake888: Jailbreak!
TheBakingChick: Yep. I’m going for a walk.
PotatoBake888: We still on for a movie later?
TheBakingChick: If you are still up.
PotatoBake888: I’ll wait for you.
I pulled open my closet and put on black leggings and a black t-shir t. I wanted to blend in with the night. I stood at my door, ready to go, my cats circling my legs, wondering what we were doing. They were clingy even when I worked full-time, but over the last week, they hadn’t left my side.
“It’s okay. No one will see me,” I promised as I pulled open the door, using my leg to keep them from darting into the hall with me.
I did it.
I was out of my apartment. The lights in the hall felt a little too bright for my liking, so I hurried down the communal stairs and out the front door. I hadn’t planned what I would do once I got outside, but the fresh air felt good moving through my lungs. As reclusive and introverted as I could be, I wasn’t cut out for life indoors. The ocean air called to me.
Loud voices echoed off the houses, so I turned in the opposite direction, which meant I walked toward the bakery.
“I’m not going to the bakery,” I whispered to myself. “I’ll just do a quick stop at the boardwalk so I can get to the ocean.”
When my feet hit the wooden planks, reflecting the white moonlight, I didn’t cross over to the beach. “Liar,” I whispered to myself as I started toward the bakery. “I’ll just peek.”
The stretch of boardwalk stood empty in each direction. Despite residual worry about running into someone, each breath of fresh salty air brought a little peace. Maybe I would be okay.
When I reached the bakery, that sentiment vanished. I blinked back tears. It was the same bakery that I had passed by since I was old enough to walk, but it was entirely different too. Jared’s contractor had installed a new awning that hung over French-cafe-style metal tables and chairs.
“Don’t do it, Jenna,” I told myself even as I approached and cupped my hands around my eyes, pressing my face against the glass. There was just enough light inside to shatter my heart that barely clung to life as it was. It was perfect. It was the exact vision of the perfect beach bakery that had been bouncing around in my mind since I was ten years old. Bright colored stools in pink and teal, comfy mismatched chairs and coffee tables. Cat prints hung on the wall interspersed with local artists paintings. Bookshelves filled with board games and used paperbacks. Edison lightbulbs hanging over the counter. Well-lit pastry cases.
Tears blurred my vision before falling down my cheeks as I tried to blink them away.
“You hate it that much?” Jared’s voice startled me.
I stepped away from the window quickly, almost falling over as I frantically whipped at my face. I wanted the familiar anger at Jared to flood me, but it couldn’t possibly compete with the anger I felt at myself. Instead, I was left with a depression that threatened to pull me under and never let me up for air.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Walking,” he said. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“You have no right to worry about me.”
He shrugged. “That hasn’t stopped me.”
“Of course not,” I said. “Nothing ever stops you. You don’t ever worry about anyone else. ”
“Come inside. Let me make you something to eat.”
I shook my head furiously. “No, I can’t.”
“Sure, you can.”
“No, I can’t,” I said.
But Jared ignored me and unlocked the door anyway, ushering me inside. The protest died as he turned on the lights. Edison bulbs over the armchairs, old-fashioned, 1970s stained glass chandeliers over the counter.
“How did you know?” I asked.
“What?”
“How did you know my vision for the bakery?”
“Was this your vision?” he asked.
“I can see right through you, you know,” I said. “Cut out the innocent bullshit.”
“How would I have known?”
“That’s the question. Maybe you are stalking me,” I said.
“Maybe,” he said with his grin.
“I need to go,” I said.
“Not until you eat something. If I know you, you haven’t been eating enough,” he said.
“You don’t know shit,” I said.
“I think we established that I know you better than you know yourself.”
“We haven’t established shit.” I realized that I was just being argumentative, but I didn’t plan on agreeing with anything Jared said. We walked through the front-end to the kitchen, where he pulled out a few ingredients, turned on the stove, and got to work. I watched him move through the kitchen in silence. My traitorous hormones turned on by his movements that man aged to be both expert and effortless at the same time. The smell was fantastic, and my stomach grumbled, realizing he was right. I really hadn’t been eating enough.
“Eat,” he said, putting a plate of southwest-style eggs in front of me.
I glared at him, debating throwing it away just to piss him off, but then my stomach growled again, and I begrudgingly took a bite.
“It’s awful,” I lied.
He laughed. Then his face grew serious. “I wish you would come back to the bakery.”
“There’s no point,” I said.
“Of course there is,” he said.
“You had to cheat in order for me to have a chance at winning. You told your bother that you needed me for good will with the locals. You also said that your brother only took me to dinner because he wanted to get to you. I am a goddamn joke to you. And I may be just the local girl from the seafood joint, but I’m not fodder for your games. I have enough self-respect to know when to quit. I wish I had recognized not to ever start, but here we are.”
“Jenna, I know what this all looks like. But you have to trust me when I tell you that I do believe in you,” he said.
I scoffed. “You are so full of shit. I have no idea what the hell your angle is, but I shouldn’t have come here at all.”
“Are you going back to The Lobster Tail?”
“I don’t know what I am doing. And isn’t any of your business. Maybe I will travel the world like your brother suggested. He does n’t think you can be a fully-fledged person unless you’ve country-hopped a few times.”
“My brother is full of shit,” he said.
“I’m surprised you two don’t get along since you are both arrogant assholes who think you know everything.”
He shook his head and had the decency to look ashamed. “Jenna, this whole thing got out of hand.”
“You think?” I asked standing up and putting my plate aside. “You give me this bullshit sob story about your strict dad and the stress of the limelight, then you tell your brother you are using me, then you rig the sale. But worst of all, you gave me goddamn hope. Hope I never had even in my wildest fantasies of owning my own bakery. It was always just that a goddamn fantasy. You were right. It’s my fault that you even had the chance to swoop in under me. And it’s also my fault for ever believing you.” Tears were streaming down my cheeks again. I felt emotional and stupid, so I turned toward the door.
“Jenna, can you please just let me talk? I feel like I can’t get a word in,” he said.
“You don’t deserve a word! You’ve had enough words,” I shouted and stalked out.
“Jenna, I’m sorry,” he called after me.
What was supposed to be a peaceful walk was ruined. Admittedly, I shouldn’t have risked walking near the bakery. That was a mistake in a long line of mistakes. I took a deep breath of the warm night air, but it didn’t do much to calm me. It felt like I would never find peace again living in this damn town with that damn man .
“Ugh!” I shouted at the sky. I was tempted to end my lease and pack up my cats and leave town. There had to be other nice beach towns, right? I could start over, be a new person. Maybe I could use my savings to travel, like Joel suggested, although that would really seal the deal on the bakery dream. Perhaps it was a small, stupid dream after all. But even as the thought occurred, it didn’t feel right. My dream may have been peanuts to people like Jared and Joel, but they didn’t have the final say in what would make me happy. They didn’t have any say at all, as a matter of fact. Did they know anything about happiness? Jared may have been quick to smile, but was he happy? Maybe he was only happy because he commandeered my dream. That must be how they got their kicks.
I got to the end of the boardwalk. I could turn toward home or toward the beach. I decided I needed the sand in my toes. I pulled off my sneakers and stepped onto the sand that still held some of the warmth from the sun that had long since sunk beneath the horizon. I walked to the water’s edge, letting the thunderous sound of crashing waves vibrate through my body, cleansing me of my angst, at least temporarily.
Standing there, at the edge of the world, the moon a fluid silver streak across the waves, I knew I wouldn’t leave my town. I wouldn’t adopt Joel’s vision of a life well-lived. I just had to find a new way to realize my own. I didn’t know what that was yet, but I would find it.
With my new affirmation in my head, I left the beach. For the first time, I thought that maybe Jared showing up here might have been a good thing if it meant that I would finally be moving on with my life. I couldn’t possibly go back to the Lobster Tail after all this. There had to be other choices. Something in between. I could work for Jared. The idea shocked me when it filtered through my mind. No, I could never work for Jared. I was too angry with him. He had lied and cheated.
But as I walked home the tightness in my chest eased just a little, PotatoBake888''s words came back to me. Maybe he was just being nice. Why would he want you to win otherwise? Why did Jared rig it for me to win? My doubtful, suspicious brain thought it was because he thought I couldn’t do it on my own, but even if that was the case, why not just mop the floor with me and be done with it? Nothing made sense.