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After a minute of reining myself in, I grab the container of soup and head to the front porch. After I knock, I hear footsteps, and the door opens. Braxton makes eye contact with me, and I give him a small smile. Before I can say a word, he shakes his head with a scowl and slams the door in my face. I hear the deadbolt lock.
“Seriously?” I wait a minute outside, but he doesn’t come back, and I honestly can’t blame him. “Guess I deserve that,” I shout, hoping he hears me before I go to my car and drive away.
Saturday comes early, and I have a handful of pickups right before lunch, so it’s essential I start baking before the sun rises. Considering it’s fall, half the town wants pumpkin this and maple that. I’ve been selling out as fast as I can make them, which is a good problem to have, but I might need to hire help sooner rather than later.
As I turn onto Murchison Ave, I spot my building and see something spread over the grass. Since it’s still dark outside and a layer of fog coats the ground, I halfway think I’m imagining things until I park and see large piles of something. Confused, I get out of my car, and that’s when the stench hits me. My jaw drops as I notice shit on my meticulously landscaped lawn. I’m perplexed. Shocked. But inside, I’m losing it because customers will be arriving soon, and the last thing they want to do is smell cow shit next to a bakery.
My body shakes with anger, knowing exactly who’s behind this. I try to take a deep breath as I walk down the sidewalk, holding back my anger that’s threatening to spill over. Once I make it to the front of the building, I notice a note taped to the door. Yanking it off, I read it.
Don’t worry. It’s 100% organic and gluten-free!
I crumple the note in my fist and release a loud groan. Braxton. The bastard. I’m absolutely enraged to the point that it takes me a few times to get the door unlocked. I’m a wreck because I have to get rid of this shit before people start showing up, but I won’t be able to remove it all myself. Hell, I don’t even have the equipment for it, plus I need to start baking immediately. I live and die by my schedule on Saturdays, and if one thing throws me off, it will fuck up my entire day. While my anger level rises, my patience wanes, but I try to calm down and think of a solution to my problem as I turn on the ovens and begin prepping the cookies and muffins. If I cancel my orders, rumors will fly, and people will talk negatively about my business. Nevertheless, if cow shit greets them on their way inside, I’ll have the same result.
As I plop the dough on the baking sheets, the only thing I can think to do is special deliver every single order. I’ll have to call my parents to help me, which irks the hell outta me, but I can’t do this alone while keeping my customers satisfied. So I’ll have to suck up my pride to make this work.
After I spread more dough on the cookie sheets, I call my parents and put the phone on speaker. Thankfully, Dad answers.
“Hey, kiddo,” he says way too cheerfully for this early in the morning.
“Dad, I need your help.” I’m close to tears.
“Everything okay?” He sounds alarmed.
I smile, hoping he can hear it in my voice, though I’m still at a level ten pissed. “Yes, for the most part. So…I got pranked by someone, and there’s a whole load of cow shit on the lawn of the bakery. Is there any way you can get someone to come shovel it up? Please? Plus, free fertilizer.” I throw in a laugh for good measure, though I’m not happy.
“Who’d do such a thing?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I lie. “Someone cruel.”
A few moments pass, and he exhales. “Sure. I’ll make some calls. But it’s Saturday, Kat. Might take a while.”
“Thanks, Dad. I really, really appreciate it.”
“Love you, honey. You need to come to see us soon,” Dad reminds me.
“I know, Dad. I will, I promise. Tell Mom I said hi. Love y’all.”
“Proud of you, Kat. We love you too.”
The call ends, and I feel some relief when I figure out how to solve this. I call Mrs. Broussard, my first customer of the day, and tell her I’ll deliver her order. After her positive reaction, I call every other person on my list and let them know I’ll drive their orders to them as well, which thrills them all. Though I’ll be busy until dark, at least everything will work out. As long as nothing else horrible happens.
