Chapter 15
“This half is cheese, and this half is meat,” Teuta said.
Augie sat at a communal table by Hyla’s front window. It was a few minutes before open, and she’d brought her laptop to job
search while her mom helped Teuta. Zami was visiting his brother in Iowa, and Augie’s mom liked to support Teuta whenever
she could. Augie usually did, too, but after their conversations about Augie’s job search on the drive to the Crawleys’ cabin,
Teuta insisted she just come hang out and work on her applications.
Augie was glad that now that she was messaging Chat, she had a better idea of his schedule; she knew he was too busy to be
at Hyla today. She wasn’t ready to see him yet, let alone around her mom.
She was enjoying talking to him on LinkedIn, though. It didn’t feel as intimate or all-encompassing as texting—and the reward
of conversation helped her get things done throughout the day. She’d tell herself she could not check her inbox until she
completed X or Y or Z. This additionally helped space out her messages to him. She liked to keep him waiting, to imagine him
checking his phone again and again, growing more eager to hear from her. In a twisted way, each message felt like a dig against
Mrs. Crawley.
Messaging Chat directly also made Augie feel like she was taking control of the situation.
Especially after deciding not to bug Leah about him anymore.
Augie had felt so awful about missing Lyle’s birthday dinner.
While she had apologized profusely, and Leah had said it wasn’t a big deal, that she didn’t expect her to remember, Augie still felt distressed.
She promised to make it up to her—though Leah reminded her she’d be busy up until the Hotel Harrison’s restaurant opening.
But at least they were back to texting as normal.
Even now, Augie took a photo of the fresh platter of mantia Teuta had set in front of her and sent it to Leah. Mantia was
their favorite. Augie breathed in the fried, egg roll–like squares.
“Watch out, they’re hot,” her mom called from behind the counter as Augie lifted one to her mouth. Her mom wore a purple Hyla
apron with the logo Augie had designed years ago.
Teuta adjusted a few chairs as she made her way toward the kitchen. The whole bakery was a mash-up of colorful furniture and
art, sunflower paintings alongside framed cartoons, one lime green wall, one blue, an L-shaped bookshelf in the corner that
served as a Little Free Library.
“You sure you’re good?” Augie said as her mom and Teuta shuffled in the kitchen.
“We’re good, girl. You keep up those applications.” Teuta returned carrying creamer and sugar for the coffee stand. “We’ve
gotta get you out of that Club. I don’t know how you can stand it anymore. The Fourth of July about did me in.”
Augie pulled apart the mantia, watching the steam rise.
“At least we got to hang out with the cute manny, right?” Teuta lowered her voice so Augie’s mom couldn’t hear, knowing it
would embarrass Augie.
Augie forced a laugh, looked at her computer. Even on the ride back from the cabin, Teuta had been after Augie to ask him out, citing how cute and nice he was. How often he came into Hyla, raving about all the food, asking about Kosovo and those early days in Minnesota.
Augie felt bad about lying to Teuta. Maybe, if she told her everything, it would bring them closer, but it felt too difficult
now. There was no way to honestly explain the situation without admitting how much she’d withheld at the Fourth of July, how
scarred she was from New York, and how weird everything was with Mrs. Crawley. It all seemed too messy, and she didn’t want
to lose Teuta’s respect.
“Do you guys have any more parties coming up?” Augie asked, changing the subject.
“Let’s hope not.” Teuta swirled a stack of napkins with her fist. “I keep telling Dad to cool it on the catering, we’re so
busy, but you know how he is. He can never say no. Especially to our regular clients. That’s how we ended up doing the Crawley
party so last minute. He can’t say no to dear old Danika.”
Augie twisted her mouth, unsure whether she’d meant this endearingly or condescendingly. “Do they have parties often?”
“No, not really. They are some of our oldest clients—she doesn’t cook—but they don’t usually host. I was shocked they even
had people to the cabin. Especially Joshua Mike.” She shook her head, her dark braid swinging. “It’s no wonder it turned into
such a disaster.” She sighed and glanced out the window, frowning.
“Why do you think they don’t have parties?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I get the feeling Danika is kinda a homebody. I like that about her.”
Augie clenched her jaw, suddenly curious how well Teuta knew her. Maybe she, of all people, had a sense of their money troubles.
“Those private parties are expensive, right? I mean, you guys are definitely worth it. I’m only saying, maybe that’s why they don’t have them often?”
“Yeah. I suppose. I don’t think that’s really a factor. You saw that cabin. Maybe I’m too old and tired for any party now. Maybe you should help me apply for new jobs.” She laughed as she turned and began cleaning the windows.
“What do you mean Danika is kinda a homebody? I feel like she’s always at the Club.”
Teuta wrung her rag between her hands as if searching for the right words. “It feels like she’s always playing along, if that
makes sense. She acts different—nicer—when it’s only you and her, one-on-one. She’s smart, too. She was one of few people
who knew where Kosovo was right off the bat. She used to live in Europe.”
Augie felt frustrated to hear more good things about Mrs. Crawley. Mrs. Crawley had definitely not been nicer to her when
it had been only the two of them, one-on-one, lighting those candles on the porch.
“I’m sure everyone acts a certain way at the Club, though. Extra extra. I applaud you for sticking with it, I really do.” Teuta sat next to Augie and patted her arm, reading yet misplacing
her distress. “I know it’s not the job you want, but don’t sell yourself short. There are two types of people in this world:
People who have worked in the service industry, and those who have not. Never be embarrassed about it. Put that shit on your
résumé.” She tapped her computer.
Augie scanned her résumé, where she had definitely not listed her job at the Club. It didn’t fit with all her college clubs
and competitions and DECA work. Augie suddenly wondered if Teuta viewed her as spoiled.
“Yeah. I should. The Club’s not that bad, though. At least it’s not the The Manor. Thanks to you.” Augie wanted Teuta to know she admired her—wanted to feel close to her again.
“Thank god for that.” Another shadow moved over Teuta’s face.
This was true. If not for her, Augie likely would have applied to The Manor. It was the default summer job for most high school kids—especially girls who wanted to show off in
the jean shorts and tank top uniform—but Teuta had forbidden it.
“Try to keep your spirits up, Aug. You never know what good thing is just around the corner.”
Augie sucked one side of her cheek, pausing. “I don’t know if there will be some good thing around the corner. I kind of feel
like I’m being punished.”
“What makes you say that? You’re the best of the best.”
Augie looked out to the bakery, instinctively studying the bulletin board on the far wall—the pinned-up scratch card Teuta
had won all those years ago. That money had come at the exact right time, Teuta had explained. She’d been twenty-one and struggling
at The Manor. She and Zami could barely make ends meet, but then, boom, and $50,000 later, they had enough to open the bakery. Look at them now. It was a fairy tale, really, Augie had always thought,
even if it made her uneasy. What if they hadn’t won? Where would they be? To Augie, it was anxiety-inducing to believe fate was stronger than self-determination. She hated
any lack of control.
Augie had often thought of Teuta when she was working on the lottery campaign at the ad agency. It was amazing Teuta had even
thought to play. Maybe she had felt it inside her—that she was lucky. Maybe on some level, she knew the universe would reward
her for being a good person. Maybe fate and karma were most powerful. If that was true, there was no good thing coming Augie’s way.
Augie leaned back and tightened her ponytail, batted her hand in the air. “It’s okay. It’s nothing. I’m too in my head right now. I’ve taken too many personality tests.” She adjusted her wrists on her laptop. “It’s all good. Really. No worries.”
Whether she believed her or not, Teuta stood up, kissed Augie’s head, and flipped the door’s sign to “Open.”
On the eighteenth, Augie had to work a baby shower at the Club, and things were already off to a bad start. The host, Mrs.
Harrison, arrived late to set up. She explained she’d had to go to three party stores to find gold and pink napkins. Augie
tried to hide her annoyance as they unpacked bags of ribbon and sequins and taffeta. Augie found it infuriating when people
were particular yet disorganized. This shower also seemed to be held to higher standards because it was for Miriam Silver,
a news anchor on KARE 11—a local celebrity.
To make matters worse, one of the newbies called in sick, so it was only Augie, Aida, and another new girl working. They were
all overwhelmed as they sorted the decor, the mess of pink.
“So do we think it’s a girl or a boy?” Augie said, irritated.
Aida stifled a laugh.
Now, ten minutes to start, Augie was worried for different reasons. She had a feeling Robin would be there. She had forgotten
to ask Leah outright, but she knew Robin and Miriam were friends. It would be the first time she’d seen Robin since New York.
She was also stressed about seeing Mrs. Crawley, though she was trying to feel more apathetic than afraid.