Page 24 of Pining for You

I examine it. “Just a logo, I think?” It’s a rubber stamp in the shape of a concha. “But it says ‘Established 1989.’ ”

“Like Tay!” Cash says.

Before he can get those two syllables out, Izaac is typing furiously into his phone once more.

“Okay, Mexican bakery, Brooklyn, 1989…”

While Izaac does more digital recon, Diya inspects the cookie, sniffing and turning it over in her hands like a scientist, and Cash sits munching away happily on his.

“Let’s see,” Izaac says, turning the screen toward me. “Maybe we’ll find a sign here. Say when, if you recognize anything…”

He scrolls through Instagram posts of bakeries using the hashtag #mexicanbakerybrooklyn. Speed racks of colorful conchas, people mugging for selfies with pastries, and pan de muerto populate the feed from different geotags. But nothing familiar.

“This is insane, Z,” I say. “There’s no way—”

But then one shot catches my eye.

“Wait—stop!” I grab the phone.

I jab a finger toward the center of the screen. It’s a pastry I’ve never seen before. But the hand holding it up for display is one I’m sure I’ll never forget.

“Holy shit, Z. You did it.”

“It’s her?” Cash asks.

“How do you know?” Diya asks.

“This birthmark,” I say, my eyes fixed on the screen. “I saw it yesterday. It looks like a fleck of chocolate…”

Cash is grinning at me with powdered sugar in his mustache (a recent addition to his face that Izaac cannot stand), and my eyes have probably gone hazy, remembering the way she smelled of cinnamon and spices, and those sparkles in my stomach…

“Panadería Amado,” Izaac says, noting the geotag and snapping me out of it. “Case closed.” He drains his orange juice, then slams the empty glass on the table like it’s a shot of whiskey.

I lean back. “Wow. You’re kind of terrifying.”

“Right?” Cash beams and rubs his boyfriend’s back proudly.

“So, now what?” I ask, eyeing the cookie in front of me. The way the sugar glitters in the diner’s fluorescent light, it looks a little like the surface of snow on a sunny morning. I’m reminded again of the sparkles when I first laid eyes on Eve.

“I don’t know; you’re the filmmaker. What would happen if this were a Christmas movie?” Izaac asks.

Diya beats me to the punch.

“Well, obviously she’d show up to the bakery, fresh strudel in hand,” Diya says.

“Like a Christmas cookie Cinderella,” Izaac says.

“Yessss! And Eve would see the cookies, recognize Bennie, and realize it was true love.” Cash clasps his hands over his heart and closes his eyes.

“And our Bennie would finally have her first kiss,” Diya says, throwing an arm around my shoulder.

“Must we?” I ask. The reminder that I’m so far behind in my romantic life is still painful sometimes. Even Diya had some summer fling when she visited her uncle in India sophomore year. I’ve been holding out for perfection.

“But that’s endgame,” Diya interjects. “There would be obstacles first, of course.”

“Big ones,” I say, deflated. “Like the fact that she lives in New York, and I live here.”

“Come on, B,” Cash says. “That’s child’s play and you know it. Plenty of movies have the bird/fish scenario and end with an HEA.”