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I usually rely on them seeing me switch the sign on the door and start cleaning up for them to get the hint that I’m closing.
Here I am, though, and dishes are done, counters cleaned, trash taken out, dough for tomorrow prepped, and floors swept and mopped. I only have to pack up the leftovers for the day and count out the register, which I refuse to do when I’m alone in the shop with a customer I don’t know.
But as if he can hear my thoughts, he rises, buttons his suit jacket, and tucks in his chair.Aw. Nobody does that. I smile as he leaves the bakery, pushing through the door.
“See you soon,” I say, smiling.
He doesn’t reply, simply turns his head slightly, showing me the side of his face, and nods once.
I lock the door behind him and shut off the light, heading to his table and picking up his cup and saucer. I swipe up his napkin to find a phone sitting underneath it.
I look to the windows, then to the phone, grabbing it as I set the dishes down and run to the door.
I open it and peer out. “Sir?”
I look both directions, but all I see are diners at the outside tables of Rivertown Grill and some cars driving by. He’s gone.
I lock the door again and inspect the phone, finally noticing how old it is. The gritty texture leaves patches of black on it, and I bring it to my nose, noticing the scent of fire. I flip it open, pressing buttons, but it’s dead. No one uses these anymore. What a strange thing to even carry.
I shrug. He’ll come back for it.
Swiping up the dishes again, I walk into the kitchen, set the phone on the counter, and place the dishes in the sink. I turn and move all the remaining pastries from the tray to a box.
But no sooner have I started than Dylan comes bursting through the swinging doors, from the front of the shop.
“No, no,” she cries, running for the chocolate coconut donuts. “I need them!”
Hunter laughs, trailing in behind her, followed by Hawke and Aro.
Dylan barrels into me, and we take turns shoving each other with our hips for supremacy over the remaining baked goods.
I snatch one out of her hand before she takes a bite. “No, you need to take them to the senior center and help me out.”
I’m doing a test run for the summer to see if I can be a bakeryanddo stuff for lunch too. Sandwiches, flatbread pizzas, soups….
I’m staying open way too late, though, and trying to be back here at three-thirty in the morning to bake is making it difficult to find time for exercising, my family, or any kind of sleep.
If I don’t get into a groove soon, this trial will be a fail.
Hunter stands on the other side of the counter, plucking one off the tray and handing it to his girlfriend. “We’ll take them,” he tells me.
“How’d you guys get in?” I look around at them. “I locked the front door.”
Aro won’t meet my eyes, Hunter gives me a tight smile, and Dylan leans her elbows on the counter, shrugging. “No, you didn’t.”
Hawke snorts, pulling a chocolate milk out of the fridge.
Hunter looks to him. “It’s time to tell her, man.”
“We’ll tell her when she’s ready to use it,” Hawke replies.
Aro smiles at Dylan, the latter stuffing her mouth with chocolate donut as she looks up at me with glee.
I point my finger around the room. “You know I’m older than all of you, right?”
They all laugh, and they’ve been hinting about something—I don’t know what—for a while now. I know there’s some urban legend they’re researching, and I know they’re in here during closing hours and off season too. I gave them all keys because I might’ve needed any one of them to have access, in case a pipe burst while I was away at school, or if they were in need of extra space for holiday cooking.
But something is going on, and I don’t press harder about it, because honestly, I don’t want to know. If I know, then I’ll feel like I have to be the responsible one, and I’d rather not ruin their fun.
