Chapter 2 #2
Out in the storefront, the bell jingled––music to her ears. The soothing sound of her mother talking to customers restored Sarah’s sanity. After she added the vanilla and a touch of salt, the dough was ready. Now came the work. The point that would separate the bakers from the bad boys.
“It’s time to separate the eggs, Ryan.”
He looked at her. “What’s that?”
“We roll the dough in the beaten egg whites so the nuts you chopped will stick to the cookies.”
“O––kay.” But Ryan didn’t get it.
“Look, I’ll show you.” After all, he was in training.
She neatly cracked open an egg. Letting the yolk slide from one shell to the other, Sarah watched the clear egg white drip into the bowl.
“Now, you have to be careful. If you get one speck of yolk into the whites, they won’t whip up nice and firm.
” Finished, she dropped the yolk into the second bowl and set the shells aside. “Your turn.”
Looking as if he were diffusing a bomb, Ryan picked up an egg. Sarah stepped back. Hovering might make him nervous. Forehead furrowed, he tapped the egg lightly on the edge of the bowl. Nothing happened.
“Harder.” She reached for the egg.
One look from Ryan and she froze. “I’ve got this, Sarah.”
She fell back. When he cracked the egg, she cheered. Maybe she overdid it.
“Is that really necessary?” Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“You’re doing great.” She zipped her lips. He was still staring at her. “What? What are you looking at?”
Reaching out, he brushed her forehead softly. She felt that touch clear to her toes. “You’ve got flour in your hair.”
“Okay. Thank you.” She gave her head a soft shake. The radio played. Ryan cracked eggs. And Sarah wondered what was happening to her.
Just as they were finishing up, her mother popped her head in. “Everything fine back here?” Looking from Sarah to Ryan, Lila gave a perky smile.
“Yep,” Sarah said over her shoulder. “Ryan’s doing great.”
“Oh, goody. The chocolate chip cookies were just snapped up by Cole Campbell. He’s taking them over to the PR office for Mercedes and Kate.”
“I wonder if Kate brings that baby to work with her.” Her friend Kate had given birth to a little boy at the end of August.
“I guess so,” her mother said. “Isn’t she nursing?”
With that, Ryan wandered back to the ovens.
“Yes, I think she mentioned that. She has a La Leche woman helping her, although I told her to call me any time, especially if she, you know, leaks.” Sarah directed her attention to Ryan. “Come back here, you. We have work to do.”
Hands on hips, he looked exasperated. “Are you two finished talking about, you know, babies and stuff?”
“Time for me to leave.” With a girlish giggle, her mother swirled back to the front.
Sarah turned back to Ryan. They whipped the egg whites. Then, scooping out a spoonful of dough, she rolled it into a ball. “Want to try?”
But she held back a laugh, watching him grab a bit of dough the size of a dime. “Bigger, Ryan. They should all be the same size.”
He scooped up a larger lump. “Better, Mom?”
“Fine.” Their pace picked up. After rolling all the balls in egg whites and then the pecans, they arranged them on the baking sheets lined with parchment paper. Ryan had preset the temperature and he slid the cookies into the oven.
“So did I pass?” Easing out a breath, he looked relieved––like he’d deactivated that bomb and saved the city.
“We’ll know when we taste them. They’re buttery and melt-in-your-mouth delicious. I love orange marmalade in the middle but... well, some people prefer strawberry.” Her voice trailed off and her eyes fluttered open.
“Jamie.” Her brother-in-law’s face emptied. “He always spread strawberry jam on his toast.”
“He did like strawberry.” She bit her bottom lip and, darn it, her eyes filled.
Before she knew it, Ryan was hugging her. “It’s okay, Sarah. I miss him too.”
“I know you do.” She let her head fall upon his chest. For a second she lost herself in the comfort of a shared loss. Beneath her cheek, his heart beat, steady and strong.
But what was she doing? Pushing away, she straightened her apron. Arms falling to his sides, Ryan looked a little stunned himself. “Time to clean up.”
“Right.” He ran his hands down his apron.
She whisked the bowl to the sink while Ryan sponged off the counter.
Sarah didn’t know her brother-in-law that well until Jamie went overseas.
Two years behind them in school, Ryan had been the boy who tagged along.
Unlike Jamie, he never did that well with his studies.
Instead, he drove their parents crazy with his stunts.
The motorcycle accident wasn’t a surprise.
Jamie had warned him plenty of times about driving over the speed limit without a helmet.
Although their mother came from Chicago during Ryan’s hospitalization, she was in a new marriage and didn’t seem to know what to do. When Ryan was out of danger and on the mend, she left. Sarah had no idea if they’d talked since then.
After Jamie left for Afghanistan, Ryan would show up at The Full Cup or give her a casual call, saying he had something for the boys. The motorcycle accident left him on crutches for a while. She’d invite him for dinner or drop off food at his apartment. But he’d become moody and withdrawn.
“So, gone on any interesting dates lately?” she asked when he was carrying the last pan to the ovens. Stumbling, Ryan caught himself in time to save the thimbles.
“Dates?” Disbelief lifted his voice. Opening the oven, he slid the pan in and then slammed the door shut.
“You know. You pick up the girl and take her to a movie or out for a meal.”
The set of his lips told her she was pushing things. “What about you? I don't see you dating.”
Sarah didn’t expect that. Her heart squeezed tight while the radio played “Jingle Bells.” “I just couldn't,” she whispered.
Ryan’s handsome features folded. “I’m sorry, Sarah. That was a stupid thing to say.”
“That’s okay, really. I had no right to pry into your private life.” Since when had she become his dating service?
“Okay if I leave now?” Already stripping off his apron, Ryan glanced up at the clock.
He wanted to escape. Who could blame him? “Sure. No problem.” She felt relieved when the door closed behind him.
Alone in the workroom, Sarah cleaned the bowls and the beaters.
When the last batch of thimbles was turning golden, she took them out and dabbed them with preserves––first orange, then strawberry.
She’d show Ryan how to do this too. Her mother stuck her head through the swinging door. “Okay if I take a long lunch hour?”
“Sure. No problem.” Looked like everyone was cutting out on her. Usually they ate back here together. She enjoyed those cozy, quiet times.
Her mother glanced around. “Ryan gone already?”
“Yes. He left. Didn’t even stay to taste a thimble.” If her mother took a long lunch hour, Sarah would have to work the front. Maybe the break would be good for her.
Mom left. Sarah took the last pan of cookies from the oven.
Going to the front window of the shop, she watched the snow sift over the street.
Only a few cars were parked diagonally in front of the shops.
After all, it was December, always a slow time.
After a hectic summer that had brought love to Lindsay, who had become a close friend, and a beautiful baby boy for Kate Campbell, Sarah should feel happier.
But she didn’t expect to feel happy ever again.
The list of Christmas chores played in her head as she stared out at Whittaker Street.
She felt so far behind. The boys wanted a train set for Christmas––at least, she thought they did.
Maybe she shouldn’t have taken them to Tom’s Train Store that Saturday after Thanksgiving.
But the blinking lights in the window had been hard to ignore.
The trains were set up in a separate room, chugging through tunnels, stopping at train stations and tooting at toy people along the way.
Miniature trees and houses completed the display. What boy wouldn’t want this?
Nathan and Justin had pressed their faces to the glass, transfixed by the magical miniature train whirring around the track.
But the train was expensive, from the tiny train station to the coal chute that loaded the car.
They must have stayed there at least an hour.
What was the harm in dreaming? She had so little to offer this Christmas.
Somehow she had to make their Christmas dreams come true.
She was arranging the cheese crowns, brownies and pecan rolls when Mercedes Wheeler passed the front window.
Head bent into the wind, she struggled to hold down her blonde hair whipping about the collar of a stylish black cape.
No doubt those gloves were real leather.
Her years in New York had made Mercedes a fashion plate, although she’d been like that in high school.
The bell above the door jingled as Mercedes swirled inside, bringing a cold blast of air with her. “Wow. It’s freezing out there. And this snow!” With a stamp of her high-heeled boots, she shook off the snow before stepping onto the tile floor.
“Think of it as holiday cheer. We're just beginning the season.”
“Don't remind me.” Studying the case, Mercedes pointed. “Cheese crown, please. I need my sugar fix.”
Grabbing one of her white bakery bags, Sarah slid out the tray and chose a plump pastry loaded with almond frosting. “So how does it feel to be an aunt?”
“Oh, I just love that little guy. Quinn is perfect. I think my sister comes in just to show him off.” Mercedes handed Sarah her gold credit card.
“Did Kate enjoy the chocolate chip cookies Cole picked up earlier?”
“Trust me, we devoured them.”
“Wait. You can be my taste tester.” Only took a minute to dash back and pop three thimbles into a bag. Returning, she handed the bag to Mercedes. “Ryan made these.”
“Oh, he did, did he?”
Her friend’s sly look made Sarah’s face flush. “He’s helping us this year.”
Mercedes propped an elbow on the high counter. “That boy is seriously hot.”
Sarah’s cheeks felt as if she were standing in front of an open oven. “Please. He’s Jamie’s little brother.”
With a glint in her eye, her friend said, “Well, I got news, missy. He’s all grown up.”
Sarah waved her away. “Take your cookies and go.”
“Does this mean another two hundred calories?” Mercedes moaned, marching to the door.
“Better you than me.” They both laughed.
After Mercedes had scurried back out into the snow, Sarah decided to bring her lunch out front.
Sitting at one of the glass topped tables at the window, she opened her ham and cheese sandwich.
The snow was picking up. She would have to shovel their little patch of sidewalk.
No one would be coming in now and her spirits plummeted.
But maybe she was wrong. A car that looked like her mother's blue Chevy pulled up into one of the spots out front. A blonde stepped out. The wind caught her red paisley headscarf, but she wasn’t giving it up.
Time for some fresh coffee and Sarah went back to fill the pot with water.
Grabbing a warm thimble, she returned and set the pot to perking.
She’d just bitten through the nutty layer of the soft, warm cookie when the door opened.
There stood the blonde. Realization turned the thimble to a lump in her throat. Sarah had a hard time swallowing.
“Mom. What have you done to your hair?”