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“Your friends are here,” Mrs. Sweet exclaimed. “Penny, your mother was in earlier picking up a cake for your sisters.”
“What’s going on, H?” Penny asked, confusion marring her features.
She had to get her friends on the same page without upsetting Mary Jane.
“It’s Mrs. Sweet, Mrs.MaryJane Sweet, from the Baxter Park Bakery. I’m sure you recognize her. She’s wearing pink, and she needs to get these cookies back to the shop,” she explained, hoping her friends would figure it out.
“Girls, this is your lucky day. You can each have a cookie,” the baker said, handing Libby and Charlotte the decorated rocks. “Harper, you can give one of your cookies to Penny.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Sweet,” the girls replied, accepting the items and, blessedly, playing along.
“Are you taking ballet lessons, Harper Barbara?” Mary Jane Sweet asked, looking her over as they headed toward the care facility.
She’d almost forgotten she was dressed like a hooker ballerina.
“No, ma’am, but I’m still playing the piano.”
Mrs. Sweet perked up. “And writing songs, I hope. I do love yoursweet-so-sweetbakery tune. Mr. Sweet and I can always tell when you and your grandparents are nearby when that little song floats through the air.”
Harper swallowed past the lump in her throat.
“I love walking with them to your shop and singing as we go,” she answered as they approached the building.
Her gaze grew blurry. The Sweets had always been kind, but she’d had no idea they’d taken such an interest in her. She was just a kid—oblivious to the inner workings of the adult world—but it touched her deeply.
“Your grandparents are so proud of you, Harper,” Mrs. Sweet continued. “Your grandmother was telling me you won your school’s talent competition last week. What an accomplishment! You truly are the apple of their eye—or should I say the butterscotch bonbon of their eye?”
She was. Her eyes pricked with tears, and she took a second to bask in the nostalgia with the baker. “Yes, they were quite pleased. It was probably the first week my teacher didn’t have to tell them I’d done something naughty,” she said as a joyful sensation fluttered through her body.
“You’re not naughty, dear. You’re spirited. I told Mr. Sweet that if I had been able to have children, I would have loved to have had a daughter like you.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s terrible what happened to your parents,” Mrs. Sweet continued. “I will always remember when your grandmother called down to the shop. It was late. We hardly ever answer the phone after closing, but Mr. Sweet and I were still in the back icing cupcakes, and something made my husband answer. I’m glad he did. Your grandmother said it was a bonbon emergency. They needed something sweet for their granddaughter who’d just come to live with them and needed to be cheered up. We set them on your doorstep on our way home from the bakery.”
“I remember that night, but I didn’t know you’d made a special trip to drop off the bonbons” she replied, recalling how that little bit of sweetness had lifted her spirits.
They started up the path to the care center’s main entrance when the facility’s sliding doors opened. A pale Mr. Sweet and two men in scrubs hurried toward them.
“Mary Jane, are you all right?” Schuman asked, taking the piping bag and handing it off to one of the nurses as they entered the building.
“Yes, of course, Schuman, I was decorating sugar cookies, and I must have wandered outside.” Mary Jane looked around, and her smile dissolved. “Where are we? This isn’t the bakery. What am I doing here?”
A nurse moved toward the woman. “Mrs. Sweet, let’s get you back to your room.”
She scowled at the man. “Who are you?”
“That’s one of the nurses, Mary Jane,” Mr. Sweet answered with a weary bend to the words as if he’d had this conversation more than once.
“I don’t need a nurse, and these cookies won’t decorate themselves. We have work to do and orders to fill.”
Schuman shook his head. “No, not anymore, Mary Jane.”
Mrs. Sweet’s gaze darted around the room. “I want to go home. Why am I here? Why aren’t we at the shop?”
Harper shared a heartbroken look with her friends.
“Did you know she was here?” Charlotte asked, lowering her voice as Mrs. Sweet grew angrier and more animated.
