Chapter 18
It’s hard to believe that just this morning I had never even heard of Panadería Amado.
Now I’m approaching it for the second time.
So much has happened since I first laid eyes on the neon sign above the door.
I’ve survived a Brooklyn flea market maze, come out of a subway rat attack unscathed, and taken a private ride with some polka-loving drag queens.
All of it, totally new and unexpected, and although I wouldn’t have scripted any of those experiences, Johnna’s right—now I have stories.
I’m not sure yet how they’ll play out with my Statement of Purpose, but I’ve already got about a dozen scripts percolating in my mind.
Maybe even some other documentaries, too.
Thanks to Johnna’s encouragement, and the fact that we’ve already lived through so much in a single day, I’m not as stressed as I was this morning about what to say to Eve if we meet her.
No, when we meet her. I’m going to hold on to my optimism in the face of doubt and adversity, as long as possible!
At least, that’s what I tell myself, until we’re close enough to see the shop’s front door.
Izaac squints at it, and by the way he turns and looks at me, it’s obvious—my shiny, renewed faith is about to be tested.
“Oh, B.” He puts a hand on my shoulder as I get a look. Earlier, we were able to see inside, where there was commotion and light and life. Now, the place is dark and the only thing I can see when I look in the windows is our reflection.
And there, on the door, is another godforsaken sign.
“They closed early for the storm.” Izaac cuts to the chase before I can read it for myself.
And there it goes—my snack cake of a heart, smashed to bits, just a pile of crumbs and smeared frosting now.
This time, Cash doesn’t stomp or shout or declare. Diya and Audra are silent too. They all just stand uneasily, pulling their coats closer around themselves and shielding their eyes from thickening clusters of flakes.
I blink hard against the tears, but what reason do I have to cry? I don’t even know this girl. I curse myself for once again getting attached to an idea, to a vision that was totally in my head. Setting myself up for disappointment, always.
The camera is heavy at the end of my arm. I don’t bother to try to capture anything. I don’t want this part of the adventure immortalized on film—this moment is a strike against Christmas magic.
My friends are all watching me like I might decompensate, so I muster what’s left of my positive energy and stuff down the tears.
“You guys! Brighten up! It’s not like there was some guarantee we’d find her.
Seriously. I mean, yesterday I didn’t even know she existed!
We did our best,” I announce like I’m talking to a team huddle.
“We had an adventure, just like you said.” I pause, trying to gather the strength to believe what I’m about to say.
“Let’s get out of here before things get really bad.
Getting home safe after all this— that is our happy ending. ”
The snow is really starting to come. Audra has laid her head on Izaac’s shoulder with a resigned, sad but true face. Diya sighs. And when Cash, our golden boy with the goldfish memory, doesn’t make a case to stay, I know it’s really over.
“Maybe we’ll still have time to watch some of our movies?” Diya says gently.
Just yesterday, that’s all I wanted to hear. Now, I give Diya a smile, but even though I love my friends and I know we’ll have fun, I’ll have to convince myself it’s not a consolation prize.
“I’ll check train times,” Izaac says finally.
The defeat must be killing him, even if technically it’s my defeat.
We wait for him to pull up the MTA app again and I soak up a last look around at the people carrying on with their days, getting on with their last-second blizzard prep and general preholiday merry making.
“Uhhh,” Izaac says, and here we go… I can sense he’s about to drop yet another explosive device on our day. He closes his eyes and turns and lets his head fall back on his shoulders. “Heyyyy, so is anyone else interested in being the bearer of news?”
“ That bad?” I ask.
He hands the phone to Diya, who reads aloud.
“?‘In advance of the impending blizzard… full service shutdown… significant suspensions… travel only if essential…’?” She pauses. “There’s no way we’re getting back tonight.”
And there it is. Worst-case scenario.
“What? No!” Cash shouts.
Diya closes her eyes, but says nothing.
“Damn, I wish I could offer you guys a place to stay, but the apartment is barely big enough for the two people already trying to live there together,” Audra says with a frown. Izaac puts a grateful hand on her shoulder, but I jump ahead to an even bigger issue.
“Honestly, that’s not even our biggest problem,” I say.
“Not even close to our biggest problem,” Diya adds. For the first time today, I see more of the Diya I know—the one who takes her job very seriously, and the one who will be very upset if we don’t make it back.
“We have to be at Cooper in the morning,” Cash says, gesturing between Diya, himself, and me.
I take a deep breath. I have no reason to believe that everything is going to be fine, but failure is literally not an option. We have to get back.
“Let’s not go there yet,” I say.
I’m no born leader, but if I’m going to make movies someday, I’d better start taking some initiative. This is a chance to try to direct the scene and write a better ending than we are imagining—even though my smashed heart is legit going through a garbage disposal right now.
I try to replay Johnna’s words in my mind.
That holding on to optimism is a strength.
We’ve already seen so many signs today that have pointed to impending disaster.
And so far, we’ve overcome every one. Maybe this is just a plot twist!
The dark night of the soul. The dip in the roller coaster before we climb to the peak.
I have to believe that. I’ve already experienced so much disappointment this season. I’m not ready to let our Christmas Eve go too.
“We’re going to make it. We just have to get up really early,” I say, even though I still don’t have a single suggestion or idea for where to stay the night.
“B, the Bazaar…,” Diya starts.
“The Bazaar starts at noon! We don’t even have to be at Cooper until ten a.m. …”
This is a late shift for me, which only happens because the bakery isn’t open during the Bazaar. We spent the last week stockpiling and packaging pastries so Joany and I can help with other tasks throughout the day.
“Right,” Cash concurs, perking up. “So as long as we’re back in Ripton by, what? Nine-ish? We should be okay.”
“Which means leaving…” I squint.
“No later than six thirty,” Diya calculates, padding the estimation for a stop home to change, et cetera.
“Cash, you can tell Bev you’re staying at my place. Z, you’re probably in the clear, right?”
He nods. Izaac has his own entrance to the Evanses’ house, and his parents likely won’t even check on him.
I turn to Diya.
“If we get home early enough, will your mom notice you were gone?” I ask.
She thinks about it. “Probably not. She won’t be home until late and then I don’t usually see her in the morning before I leave for my shift. Also, I already told her I might stay at your house.”
“Perfect, I’ll tell Naomi I’m staying at yours,” I say to Diya, and that settles one thing.
Except I still haven’t answered my mother. I’m going to have to somehow send her a message that I’m not going to be home tonight, while also avoiding her question. But one thing at a time.
“The forecast is clear for the morning,” Izaac says, looking at his phone.
“Yeah, Seichi said it’s supposed to stop snowing around two a.m.,” Diya says (and I briefly wonder when they’ve been texting).
“Usually they get the trains back up and running pretty quickly, but you should give yourselves some wiggle room for delays,” Audra instructs, and we nod.
“So. Back to where that leaves us tonight…,” Cash reminds the group.
Everyone is quiet. Considering options? Internally melting down? Plotting my murder? This mess is obviously all my fault. If I had just gotten her number, or met a nice girl from Ripton, none of this would be happening. I rub the bridge of my nose and shiver.
“Well, we can’t think on an empty stomach,” Izaac says finally.
If Izaac is the one suggesting food, things must really be getting dire. Usually the dude can operate on adrenaline and ideas. We never did get that pizza before, between the market and Bootgate.
“Agreed,” Audra says, stepping in. “Let’s find somewhere to regroup.” If things weren’t so bleak, I’d point out her little brother said those exact words, in this exact place, literal hours ago.
“We will have food, for real this time?” Cash asks me, when everyone else has started walking.
“Yes, buddy. We will have food.”
“Are you positive ?”
I put my arm through his and, for a moment, squint against the falling snow.
“Well, I’m… hopeful.”
And right now, that feels pretty big.