24. Neesha #2
“A perfect match,” I say slowly, my eyes catching Lucian’s across the room. Maybe in more ways than one.
“You know,” she continues, “there’s something to be said for businesses with roots in a community.
The most memorable places I’ve discovered in my career aren’t necessarily the most famous.
They’re the ones where the owner has a connection to the place, where the business feels like an extension of the community.
I’ve traveled the world for my job as a food critic, and there’s a certain magic in hometown success stories—in watching someone build something that matters where they’re known and loved. ”
I think about all the times I’ve daydreamed about my Seattle bakery—always focusing on the space, the location, the business plan—but never on the life I’d build there or the people who would become my everyday support system.
“Would you still consider featuring me in your article, even if I decide to stay in Maple Falls?” I ask.
“I think a small-town baker with big talent makes for a much more compelling story than yet another Seattle enterprise, don’t you?”
“Thank you so much, Ms. Johns.”
“Call me Vivian,” she says, putting her phone into her bag and pulling out a business card.
“It seems I have a story to write. I’ll be in touch when it’s done.
I’m heading over to the assisted living center to see my mom.
I’ll say hi to Mimi, too—she’s quite the lady.
” She hands me her card before she leaves the store and all I can do is stare at it.
How is this even my life?
The bell jingles again, and this time it’s the mayor, looking frazzled.
“Neesha!” he calls. “Thank goodness you’re here. We have an emergency in the mayor’s office. The dessert caterer for my upcoming gala was canceled. The committee is desperate. We need at least five hundred cupcakes by Saturday. Would you consider it?”
“Five hundred?” I repeat. “My kitchen is too small for an order that size.”
“You can use mine.” We all turn to see Mrs. Nelson raising her hand in the middle of the literary fiction section .
“You’re offering your kitchen?” Her kitchen is twice the size of mine. But she’s never offered it to me before. Never even mentioned it as a possibility.
“If we use both kitchens, you can get double the number of cupcakes baked.”
“And mine too,” Lucian volunteers. “I just bought a new oven. Okay, so I really bought it so you’d come over more. I hope you’re not mad about that.” He gives me a smile so sweet, it nearly splits my heart open.
“How could I ever be mad?” I say with a laugh.
“I can help you bake,” Emmy offers.
“And I can wash dishes,” Mary-Ellen chimes in.
“Which means I’ll be drying,” Mabel volunteers.
“Do you need help packaging the cupcakes into boxes? I’ll do that,” Fiona offers.
Bailey raises her hand. “And I can bring you lots of maple syrup for the special maple-pecan cupcakes.”
The offers of help pour in faster than I can even write them down.
“You’ll need a spreadsheet to make sure the order is correct,” Marcy says. “And I love a good spreadsheet.”
“We can lend a hand too, can’t we, guys?” Cade says, looking around at his teammates who are all nodding.
“I could print special cupcake signs,” Clara volunteers. “And grow your social media presence.”
I look around at these people—my neighbors, my friends, my community—all ready to drop everything to help my little cupcake business succeed.
Something swells inside me, this feeling of not being worthy of their kindness. And I suddenly feel a complete sense of overwhelm because there’s no way I could ever repay them.
It’s all happening so fast. Lucian’s selfless revelation last night, the town’s offer of help, the potential publicity—my life has turned upside down, like I’m on a roller coaster and just got whiplash from the sudden drop .
I glance at Lucian, who’s watching me from the corner like he’s trying to read me.
Suddenly I need space, air, any place so I can just think.
“Problem solved,” Emmy says. “And when the magazine article comes out, you might not need to move to Seattle at all. Especially if you get the grant.”
My stomach pitches when I think of the grant. I never went back to finish the application. When Mimi dropped the news about the food critic, I totally forgot about it. The application is still on my counter unfinished, and the deadline passed thirty minutes ago.
Dread churns in my stomach. How am I going to tell everyone I passed up an unprecedented opportunity?
It’s not that I’m trying to make things harder for myself; I just can’t seem to make them easier either.
“Well, it sounds like you could build your business right here in Maple Falls,” Ashlyn says. “All you need is that grant.”
I look around at everyone’s hopeful faces and suddenly I can’t breathe. This is too much. Too good. Everything I’ve wanted, but told myself I don’t deserve. What if I mess this up? What if I’m not actually good enough and everyone finds out I’ve been faking it this whole time?
“That would be…” I lock eyes with Lucian. “…the icing on the cake.”
I’m moving toward the door before I even realize it, since apparently when life hands me everything I’ve ever wanted, my brain’s response is to run like my life is on fire.
Because in my head, it is.