Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
KENNEDY
With my belly full (I’m still not sure how this is going to go once human digestion kicks into gear), I walk down Main Street with a new jaunt in my step. Claudia’s place should be open for business, and I’m delighted to see a line already forming at her door when I turn the corner.
I can’t describe how happy it makes me to see my sister doing something that brings her such joy.
Through the glass of the front window display, I can see the bright smile she gives each customer as they check out at the register.
Another young girl is helping select pastries from the case and pack up each order with care so Claudia can focus solely on the customers.
It’s clear how much Claudia enjoys this part of the job.
She’s always been more of a people person than me.
The connections she made growing up felt so genuine, all the while I tried covering up my shy nature by turning up the volume and adding a little sarcastic wit.
Hands in my pockets, I squeeze between the door and a few patient patrons.
I thought the bakery smelled amazing yesterday, but today, with the hint of fresh baked goodies lingering in the air, it smells like pure heaven.
If I get to experience this every day, this is the best possible afterlife I could have imagined for myself.
Claudia hands off a paper bag filled with half a dozen donuts and spots me out of the corner of her eye.
“Kennedy! You’re back!” Her eyes sparkle with a shimmering gold eyeshadow as she rushes out from behind the counter to hug me.
“I’m so glad you came back,” she murmurs against my cheek.
When she pulls back, she points to a swinging door.
“Can you hang out for a second while I finish up the morning rush? There’s a TV in the back.
You can watch one of those morning talk shows you used to love so much. ”
I can’t believe she remembers that. But it wasn’t so much that I enjoyed watching those shows, it was more about the fact that I was left alone at home while our mother drove Claudia to dance practice.
Those talk shows were what kept me connected to the things going on outside our home.
I especially liked the recurring segments that featured local small businesses.
There were so many I wanted to visit in Nashville, but never did.
She guides me by the shoulder, splitting the line with a “pardon me” so we can pass through and shows me to the back room.
We enter straight into a large stainless steel kitchen filled with appliances in various states of use.
An electric mixer is caked in something sticky.
In a little corner sits a filing cabinet, a sofa, and a desk.
Atop the desk is a black monitor that she turns on with the tap of a button.
“I have streaming,” she says. “Feel free to watch whatever you like.” She wrings her hands nervously, then grabs a pillow from the sofa and fluffs it back to size.
“Anyway…” she drawls, “I’ll be out there if you need me.
” Then she hurries back to the front of the bakery, her apron ties flying loosely behind her.
I have no interest in watching TV at the moment, though whatever show is playing does seem interesting. There’s a lively woman traipsing about Paris in a fabulous outfit, but something else snags my attention.
A tray of undecorated sugar cookies sits on a giant prep table, along with all the necessary ingredients needed to dress them. I don’t want to mess with any system Claudia has in place, but I also don’t think she’ll be mad if I customize just one. Besides, I’m eager to try something she’s made.
Even in death, there’s always room for dessert.
Grabbing a small glass bowl, I fill it with white icing from a prefilled piping bag.
I search for food coloring and find purple.
I drop the tiniest drop into the icing and mix, creating a light lavender.
Then I take a silicone spatula and coat one of the cookies with a generous amount of icing.
There’s a small container of sugar pearls on a shelf, so I take those and form the letter K on top of the icing.
It’s cute, but there’s something missing. It needs some shimmer. My last step is to sprinkle it with a dusting of edible glitter labeled MOONSTONE.
I take a moment to honor my masterpiece, but just as I’m ready to take a bite, the door swings open, and Claudia’s assistant comes in carrying a load of empty trays.
She eyes the cookie I was two seconds from shoving into my mouth and fights a grin. “We usually have extras at the end of the day,” she says as she dumps the trays into the sink. “I’m sure Claudia would let you have some.”
Cringing with embarrassment, I place the cookie back on the table and brush away the sparkly glitter that stuck to my sleeve. “I was just messing around.”
The woman just smiles warmly and goes back to the front. A few seconds later, Claudia returns.
“You’re decorating?” she asks. She takes a look at the cookie I claimed and lets out a satisfied hum. “You know,” she starts, crossing her arms over her chest, “I could use some extra help around here. Any chance you’re looking for a job?”
There’s flour caked under her fingernails as she taps them against her elbow, and I notice there’s a clump of icing stuck to her apron.
I hadn’t thought about needing a job, but I do.
Sure, I can survive without eating (as if I’d want to!) and live out the rest of my afterlife in Theo’s haunted house, but what sort of second chance would that be?
If I want to eventually get a place of my own, I’ll need money, and a job would be the best place to start.
Plus, I can’t keep mooching off others for free food.
“What would I do?” I ask, flicking the icing from her apron.
She chuckles and reaches for my cookie. “You could do more of this. I don’t enjoy the decorating part as much as baking. And I’m not very good at it. I wanted to hire someone for that, but I never got around to it.”
“I’m not a professional dessert decorator. I was just messing around. And I wanted the cookie.”
Claudia chuckles. “You don’t have to be. I don’t sell fancy cakes and confectionaries. It’s just your basic bakery staples, and most of that involves just a single layer of icing.” She shrugs. “Maybe a sprinkle or two.”
I shake my head as I sway on the spot. “I don’t know,” I draw out slowly.
“Come on,” she insists, nudging me playfully. “What else have you got to do all day?”
I narrow my eyes with feigned hurt. “Ouch.”
“You know what I mean. I don’t want you stuck in that old, drafty house all day. As a matter of fact, why don’t you just come stay with me. I have a spare bedroom. It’ll be just like it used to.”
It’s a pretty picture my sister is painting, but no matter how much time or proximity we spend with one another, things will never be the same as it was. Not as long as I’m a ghost.
“I’ll think about it,” I say. “I promise.”
“Great! You can think about it when you come over for dinner this weekend!”
Claudia’s smile lights up the room, her excitement nearly tangible.
I cling to it as I try to imagine the second chance with my sister I always wanted.
At the same time, didn’t I just agree to give Theo a chance?
What will happen if I leave? Will he continue to come out of his shell, or will he crawl in even deeper than ever before?
I thought I wouldn’t have any options in the afterlife, but now, I’ve somehow gotten myself into a situation where I’ll have to choose.