Page 117 of When We Were Young

“Yeah, she’s not bad,” he says teasingly.

We spend a few more minutes eating, and then another alarm goes off. I head to the kitchen and pull out the warm treats that are waiting for me to place them in the display case.

As I come back out into the shop and head toward the display case, I glance up to see Harrison, Delaney, Henry, Tillie, Layla, Hayden, and Lena walking into the building. Lydia follows and slips behind the counter.

“Ready for my first day, boss,” she says. That she’s willing to work a few hours a week for me is a godsend.

I pause and really take it all in. My heart races. I have my first customers.

Harrison is first in line and is only about three feet from the cash register when Holden slips in front of him.

“Oh no, you don’t. I’ve been waiting here an hour so I can be the first customer.”

“You’re cutting in line,” Harrison says.

“No, I’m not. I’ve been in line for an hour.”

“I didn’t see you in line. You might’ve been here for an hour, but you weren’t in line.”

“Okay, boys,” Lydia says. “How about we not argue on Lizzie’s big day?”

“Nobody’s arguing,” Harrison says. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s a line-cutting heathen.”

Holden grins.

“I prefer ‘enthusiastic supporter’.”

“Line-cutting heathen,” Harrison repeats.

I laugh.

Holden orders two dozen sugar cookies, and I give him the side eye.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll take six.”

And just like that, I’m officially in business.

Chapter Forty

Holden

“My father died last night.”

I’ve never seen this look on Lizette’s face before. She’s staring at her phone, and there are no tears, but she’s blinking rapidly, and her mouth is slightly ajar.

I grab one of her free hands and hold it. She lets me, but she doesn’t react otherwise. After a solid minute, something in her flips like a switch. Her face immediately goes into get-things-done Lizzie mode and she pulls her hand away.

“Okay. Shut down the bakery for a few days. Cancel the bachelorette event...” Her face falls. “That’s going to cost me both money and reputation. Pack Simon’s things. Pack my clothes...”

She’s not talking to me. No, she’s making a to-do list in her phone and pacing. After a minute or two, I’m able to guide her to a chair, and she sits, but keeps adding items to her list.

I kneel before her and carefully remove her phone from her hand, then take both of her hands in mine.

“Lizette, look at me.”

She doesn’t. She continues to stare down as if she’s still looking at her phone.

Her hair is a beautiful mess. Some of it is getting in her eyes, and I know that makes her crazy, but she’s ignoring it. So, I take my hand and brush as many of the stray strands behind her ears as I’m able to. Then, I hold her hand again.