Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
W hen I looked back into the room, both my parents looked at me with utter bewilderment.
“What was that?” Mom asked.
“I could ask you two the same thing! I thought you were the most anti-big businesspeople in all of Cape Shore. But all it took was a pretty face and some empty promises for the two of you to cave? Did you hear him? I want to coordinate with the locals? The locals? Like we are some strange subspecies in need of studying by Mr. Fancy Pants?”
“Jenna, it isn’t like that,” Mom said. “We don’t have any say over who buys that bakery, and we are better off working with him than against him.”
“We will have to agree to disagree. I distinctly remember you two gathering the pitchfork mob to drive out the Wendy’s that wanted to open on the highway outside of town. I’m pretty sure if you wanted him gone, he would be. I guess it’s going to be up to me to make that happen,” I said.
“Jenna,” Dad said with a worried tone while my mom wrung her hands in concern. “This isn’t like you.”
“Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I have been too non-confrontational and complacent in my own life for far too long,” I said.
I left the office without another word so I wouldn't get into a fight with my parents. I spent my entire life keeping the peace wherever I went. Now I wanted to burn all of that peace to the ground. I couldn’t help but wonder how they would respond if I told them I had wanted to buy that space or dreamed of opening a bakery for over a decade. I worried they would laugh and think I was childish.
Mom sighed, hurrying after me. “Jenna, I think you should look at this as an opportunity. Maybe you could work for Jared on your days off. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to diversify your experience. I am sure he could teach you a lot about the business that you couldn’t learn here.”
I wasn’t so stubborn to think that I had nothing to learn in the ways of owning, operating, or managing a business. Still, there was something so condescending about the way my mom talked about it. Despite being their full-time kitchen manager for years, having a degree ,and being raised in the kitchen, they still saw me as a kid. Maybe that contributed to me not being open about my dreams with them. Another part of me worried that if I talked about it, reality would creep in and taint the perfect image in my head, making it harder to hold onto the fantasy of it all .
Although, that had just happened with or without me sharing my thoughts.
“Okay, Mom, thanks,” I said. I turned away.
I couldn’t stand there and justify my frustration or explain why I would never ever work for the killer of dreams himself.
That night, after my shift, I lay in bed, replaying the day. Despite being new, angry, self-confident Jenna who only cared about her own goals, an uncomfortable feeling settled over me, and it wasn’t just because I kept thinking about myself in the third person. I worried that I had hurt Jared’s feelings, but I also was enraged that he didn’t seem to give a shit that I thought so little of his venture. I just had to make him regret he ever met me. My one and only purpose in life hung in the balance. I couldn’t do nothing.
Tomorrow, I would make a plan. I would channel Cat and all of the badass women who came before me to fight for what should have been mine.
I debated unloading on PotatoBake888 I didn’t want to come off as unhinged. We met through a bakery management course, so it made sense that we both had similar goals. Few people without ambitions of opening a bakery would take a class like that, so maybe he would understand. But even I recognized that my passion may have been over the top at least after my reaction to the bakery being bought.
I crossed the room to my computer. As I opened it, the glaringly bright light became momentarily blinding. Then my message app dinged. A message had come in a few hours ago.
PotatoBake888: Everything back to normal?
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. If he only knew. But once again, I was left with the decision of how much to tell him. How did I even begin to explain why I cared so much both about a big name coming to our small town and about my future plans being forever altered?
TheBakingChick: Not any time soon.
I finally wrote back. It didn’t really matter how long I took, since he had sent the message a while ago, but I didn’t like overthinking my answers.
To my surprise, he wrote back quickly.
PotatoBake888: Is it possible it's change for the better?
TheBakingChick: That’s unusually optimistic of you.
PotatoBake888: We can’t both be pessimistic at the same time. So, it’s my turn.
TheBakingChick: Is that how it works?
PotatoBake888: All about balance.
That’s how our conversations worked. Lighthearted banter passed back and forth sprinkled with light glimpses into ourselv es. Selves we couldn’t share anywhere but through a screen. And even though PotatoBake888 was tight-lipped, I still felt like I knew him. Maybe that was naive, but it didn’t much matter, did it? He would stay my mystery man behind the screen.
TheBakingChick: Well, as the pessimistic one for the evening, no, I don’t think it is a change for the better. The Wallaces have decided to stay and infect my town. What’s worse is that he is opening a bakery.
PotatoBake888: The horror. How will you survive?
I snorted a laugh at his obnoxiousness. Of course, he didn’t know why that would be the worst part of all. After a moment, I decided to go out on a limb.
TheBakingChick: Do you ever feel stuck?
PotatoBake888: All the time.
It was a rare insight into his elusive feelings. I didn’t know why he felt stuck because we had avoided sharing those kinds of personal details, but it was nice to know I wasn’t so alone.
PotatoBake888: You getting sick of your perfect beach life?
TheBakingChick: No. I will never get sick of my beach life. Don’t say such things. I just feel like I should have done more with my life by now. But I’ve been so busy living for everyone else. I don’t have the goddamn time for the things I want. Having this asshole comes in only highlights that for me.
I watched the screen feeling uncomfortable. Like I had just overshared. When a new message finally popped up, I breathed a sigh of relief.
PotatoBake888: Maybe focusing on this guy is just another avoidance technique. Unless, of course, you like him ??
TheBakingChick: Are you my therapist now?
PoatoBake888: Depends. How much are you paying?
TheBakingChick: I’ll pay you in chocolate chips scones.
PoatoBake888: Throw in a coffee cake, and you have a deal.
TheBakingChick: Thats a bit pricy for my taste.
PoatoBake888: Fine. Here’s some free advice. You are an absolute badass. When you decide to start living for yourself, you will be unstoppable .
His profuse praise made my cheeks burn and my heart melt. Not for the first time, I wished desperately that we could meet in real life. But I also didn’t want my heart broken by the harsh letdown of reality. I really was playing the role of pessimist tonight.
TheBakingChick: I guess you don’t know me all that well.
PoatoBake888: Trust me. I know you. Jfkdamkewaui
TheBakingChick: What was that?
PoatoBake888: Sorry, my dog decided he wanted in our conversation.
TheBakingChick: A dog? Oh no. Here I thought you were a cat person.
PoatoBake888: Why would you think that?
TheBakingChick: I just assumed everyone worthwhile was.
PoatoBake888: Oh no … are you a cat person?
TheBakingChick: Of course.
PoatoBake888: I guess we can’t be friends anymore.
TheBakingChick: I guess not.
PoatoBake888: Talk to you tomorrow?
TheBakingChick: Sure
I went to bed with a smile on my face until I remembered the real problem waiting for me in the morning. Why couldn’t PotatoBake888 been the one to show up unexpectedly in my town instead of my worst nightmare made real.