Chapter 9 Nostalgia Moment
NOSTALGIA MOMENT
“Morning, Reenie.”
“Morning, Brooke,” she said. Brooke told her to show up at six, said there was no reason for her to come in at four. Not on her first day.
She wanted to argue but was glad she hadn’t.
Ford left at eight last night. She couldn’t wrap her mind around all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.
She should have been waking up in a hotel in Canada, not driving to a small bakery to work in the one town she’d ever felt like she belonged.
“Did you sleep okay last night?”
“I slept better than I have in a long time.”
Surprisingly.
There was no man beside her she had to worry about waking. No one to lecture her for shifting in bed, no fights over needing sleep or her rolling over and tugging the covers away.
Some nights she slipped into the spare room to get a few hours of sleep, then snuck back into bed with Oliver before he woke.
She loved the nights Oliver took his sleeping pills because then she could relax.
Last night, there were no sounds other than a piece of wood falling in the wood stove.
She’d never lived anywhere that was so quiet.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Brooke said. “I’m thrilled you’re here and love the help.”
“You tell me what you need me to do.”
“I’ve got a big order that has to be put together for a work event. Pastries and muffins. Most are done or I’m finishing them up. I make five kinds of cookies a day. Once they are gone, that’s it. I don’t make any more until the next day. I make four dozen of each.”
“They are big cookies.” She saw them cooling on a tray. “Do you sell out daily?”
“Usually. If I don’t, I’ll put them out the next day to be sold first, but only two days. I try to rotate things so that if someone wants a certain cookie, they might miss it and buy something else, then come back another day and hope it’s here.”
“That’s great. Does it work?”
“I like to think so,” Brooke said. “It’d be wasteful to bake the same things daily.”
“What about if someone orders an item you hadn’t planned on making?”
“Then I make it for the day. I’m not always set on the same thing. Apple cider donuts are made daily and throughout the day. It’s a staple here.”
“I remember them from when I was a kid,” she said.
She had one after helping Brooke yesterday. A nostalgia moment she needed in her life.
“If you want to learn to bake some recipes, I don’t have a problem teaching you, but for now, I’d just love a hand dealing with the orders and the customers and I can stay back here.”
“Anything you want me to do, just tell me. I can’t thank you enough for opening your doors for me.”
“Think nothing of it. And try not to get too angry with Ford.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because he can be controlling and more so when he feels as if his hands are tied.”
“I’m trying to be as open as I can,” she said. “But it’s been a long week. Yesterday was emotional, but I feel recharged.”
“Ford stayed at Clay’s last night.”
“What?” she asked.
“You didn’t see his vehicle when you drove by this morning?”
“No.” He must have left by then.
“He’s nervous. I shouldn’t say this, but I will. When you two were kids, your move devastated him. I told him not to get too close to you.”
“I told him too.”
It wasn’t a secret that she moved around a lot.
Ford knew. She’d told him she hoped she got to stay for the year. She never talked about anything further with him.
Not the revolving door of drug-using men in her mother’s life that kept her only parent high or drunk. Drugs that mellowed her mother. Alcohol that riled her up to a mean beating machine. Some men liked that and those that did just fed her mother on, having someone give her that attention.
Had she known Ford wanted to ask her to be his girlfriend?
She had. No one wanted her for anything. Just the knowledge of that gave her a tiny nudge of confidence she never had in her life.
When Ford leaned in and kissed her just days before she moved, she clung to him, not wanting to let go. She hadn’t even told him she was leaving though she’d known for days.
That night, she’d cried herself to sleep.
Not because she was in pain from the slap her mother had given her across the face when she begged for them not to move, but for the heartbreak of losing the one person in her life she thought she could count on.
She wanted to feel as if she had that in her life again.
Even if it was only for a few days.
She wasn’t thinking much further in advance no matter how much her mind and heart wanted to push the boundaries.
“You’re back now,” Brooke said. “And we should get some work done.”
She appreciated that Brooke didn’t feel the need to talk for hours, they had too much to do. By the time she left at three, the tables were wiped down, the leftover pastries and cookies were stored for the morning, and Brooke had most of her batters prepped and ready to bake at four.
Though lunch wasn’t served, customers came in and got a treat and sat at a table with a cup of coffee.
She collected tips that went in her pocket and was mopping the floor in the front.
“That went great,” Brooke said. “I can’t believe how much I got done not having to stop and come out here to wait on people.”
“I’m glad,” Reenie said.
“Was six too early for you?”
“No,” she said. “I’m used to getting up and starting my day.”
“Why don’t we do it again tomorrow? I’ve got help here Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, so you can have those days off.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Brooke said. “People are seeing you in here and talking, but it’s not as busy. To them, you’re just someone helping me out.”
“Thanks for letting me say my name was Maureen.”
“Honey, you can call yourself Santa for all I care.”
She laughed with Brooke. “I wouldn’t lie. My name is Maureen.”
She’d gone by Reenie her entire childhood. When she moved out on her own, she went by Maureen.
She could have corrected Ford but didn’t.
“I know things have been rough for you,” Brooke said. “They will get better.”
“I hope you’re right,” she said. She stretched her arms over her head. Her shirt sleeve came down and a bandage popped out.
“Blaze saw you last night?”
“I thought you knew,” she said, putting her arms down. She hated anyone to ever see the marks on her body.
Blaze questioned her about her broken arm. The scars were fresh there too. She’d been honest and said it ached now and again, but not horribly.
It’s not as if she was going to the doctor where any of her medical files might pop up.
There was no way she was letting any part of her past be brought into her present. Not right yet.
As much as she wanted this to be a new beginning, she wasn’t holding onto it. It was a start and for her that was good enough.
She’d had a lot of starts in her life that never got finished. Maybe for once this one would.
“I suspected it when he showed up for dinner, but he wouldn’t talk to me about those things.”
“If there isn’t anything else you need, I’ll go home. I need to order a bunch of things. I’ll let you know when they will be delivered.”
“Have a good night, Reenie.”
She left the bakery and got in her car. If it was bright at six this morning, she would have walked down, but she wasn’t dumb enough to do that nor did she want a lecture either.
Ford had already texted her three times today to check on her.
Clay popped his head in twice too, to make sure she was still there.
Someone was watching her at all times and she didn’t know if it was to make sure she stayed or was safe.
No one was going to find her here. And the number of Ridgway eyes on her might be intrusive, but she signed up for it.
Maybe it was nice to have someone care about her. Or worry.
Yeah, it was worry, not care.
She drove to her little cabin and parked in the back.
When she opened the back door, she felt the chill inside and immediately went to the wood stove to get it lit.
Ford had shown her how to manage the temperature as best as she could and it’d stayed nice all night and wasn’t freezing when she woke up this morning.
Sure, the wood floors were cold and she’d definitely be ordering herself a pair of slippers, but not too much stuff. It’s not as if her car had a lot of space to pack it in when it was time to leave.
She clenched her fist over her chest at that thought.
She didn’t want to leave.
Didn’t want to twenty years ago, and after one day back here, the thought of it again had water filling her eyes and her nose running. She sniffled and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
“Why are you crying?”
She spun around and saw Clay standing in the doorway behind her.
“I’m not,” she said, wiping her eyes more.
He stared at her. “Lock the damn door.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking. I just walked in.”
Clay stood there staring at her with a box in his hand. How did anyone get close to this guy?
“Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding her head.
“Ford will be here by five thirty unless he gets held up.”
Clay walked in and dropped the box on the table. The guy made no noise when he walked, but dropped shit all the time.
“What’s in there?” She moved over and saw what looked to be clothing.
“Some of Ford’s old sweatshirts. My mother stopped me and asked me to bring them to you. She figured you had little warmer weather clothing.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“Don’t thank me, thank her,” Clay said.
“Why do you hate me?” The courage she only felt here pushed its way through her body to confront a man she’d normally be terrified of.
He frowned. “I don’t.”
“You have a crappy way of showing that.”
Clay’s bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth. The same move Ford had done.
“I don’t want to see my brother messed up again.”
“What?” she asked. “What does that mean?”
“Never mind,” Clay said. “Have a good night.”
Clay was gone just as quickly and quietly as he arrived.
The only way she was going to get answers was to ask Ford herself.
Which meant it’d be today, when he came over with groceries for her.
They’d fought when she’d handed him money and her list, but he gave in.
No, they didn’t fight.
The Ford she remembered never argued, though he was showing signs of wanting to last night.
He was stubborn and ground his teeth, but she held her stance and he took the cash in the end.
They were going to have to come to terms because she wouldn’t stay locked on this property as a prisoner constantly checked and watched.
That wasn’t much different from having to look over her shoulder the rest of her life.