Page 12 of Defensive Indifference

“You attacked me the second I tried!”

“Attacked you? No, this is attacking you.” I hurl the bakery items in rapid-fire until the tray is empty, then use the tray as a shield to block his return throws. At no point does it occur to me that this is the most childlike way to resolve a conflict between adults. Also, at no point does it occur to me that other people might get embroiled in our war until Annie rushes from the back.

“What on earth is—”

Smack!

A jelly-filled donut hits her right on the cheek, sticks for a second, and slides down her face until it plops on her shoulder, rolls down her apron front, and splats on the floor. She blinks a few times, adjusts her glasses, and shifts her eyes between the two of us.

“I’m so very sorry,” Koa says. “I absolutely didn’t mean to hit you in the face with food.” He rushes forward with a wad of napkins, but Annie’s glare holds him off. She does accept the napkins, but from a distance. I’m not sure Koa could stretch his arm any farther to offer them well out of her swatting range.

Annie wipes the jelly from her face and pulls off her apron. “I think you should go.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Koa steps back, slides around a little on frosting, and finally catches his footing. He doesn’t even look over his shoulder at the mess he helped create, which naturally makes me want to throw another wad of donut at him. It lands between his shoulder blades, freezing him in place. After a few breaths, he pushes through the door and shirks the donut onto the sidewalk before stomping to his vehicle.

“Very mature, Lina. Do I want to know what happened here, or should we just get back to work cleaning up again?”

Her motherly tone can’t be mistaken. I was foolish, I let my frustration and anger get the best of me, and I made a clown of myself. My cheeks burn again. Pressing my hands to them, I note that I’m covered with frosting.

“I threw donuts at a grown man,” I whine.

“I noticed. Any thoughts on why you did?”

I mean to lean back on the counter, but I don’t stop there. Sliding all the way down to the floor seems like the only option, the only way to disappear from reality. When my butt flops, I squish in frosting. Annie kneels beside me, back against the wall.

“He came to apologize, gave me a crummy one, and I don’t even know what happened from there. Annie, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“There’s more to this than that. You were tenser this morning than yesterday, and don’t tell me it’s because a couple teenagers quit.”

A long sigh prequels an even longer explanation of the rent increase along with what I assume is a letter of tuition increase from Dustin’s school that I haven’t had a chance to open yet. Annie nods along, never interrupting or interjecting until she’s sure I’ve told every last bit of my story. She takes a moment to analyze, to ponder, and come up with…

“You should have accepted his apology.”

“What? Are you kidding me?” My nostrils flare and Annie chuckles.

“I heard the apology from the back, Lina. It wasn’t great, but he came all the way down here to do it, which has to count for something. Did it occur to you at any point in your argument that you two might have the same pride issue?”

“I don’t have a pride issue.”

“Says everyone with a pride issue. You didn’t give that man an ounce of grace after getting angry with him for not giving you grace. You were mad he assumed the worst of you, so you went and assumed the worst of his apology. Now that you’re even, can I make a request?”

With pursed lips, I motion for her to make her request.

“If you want to have another go with him, can you let me know the day so I can call in sick? I’m sort of tired of scrubbing donut from the grout.”

Tears burst forth in a loud sob and I drop my head in my hands. Annie rests her arm around my shoulders and shakes me. “Come on now, none of that. Let’s get this cleaned up, turn that frown upside down, and act like somebody today, hmm?”

She manages to get me on my feet and looks me up and down.

“First, you need to go change or you’ll attract ants.”

With a swat, I pass Annie and head to my office where I keep a change of clothes. You never know what sorts of messes you’ll make running a bakery. Certainly, I’d never anticipated having a donut war with a grown man, but such is life. And if life has shown me anything in the last few days, it’s that things can always get worse.

Chapter Seven

Koa

I was so very wrong about Eleanor Dawson. From the moment the woman walked into the conference room, I felt like a little boy in big, big trouble. She sat across from me, face stern as a schoolteacher’s, and opened a folder.