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Then I went back to the email and read through it. My stomach turned as I read the last paragraph. Due to issues with packaging and the fact that so many had come in all at once, they were threatening to close my Baking Crate account.
My eyes burnt and the words blurred as I tried to focus and fight off tears at the same time. I knew I should have just shut down and closed the store, or at least let Baking Crate know of the incident so they could close down the online portion for now.
I shut off my phone, completely heartbroken, and lay in the dark. I rolled onto my side and allowed the tears to fall. I prayed that my knee scooter arrived in the morning and that I could fix everything that had been done. I’d immediately start by replacing those orders that had arrived damaged free of charge.
Tristan
It had been one hell of a morning. We’d fallen behind, and weren’t ready to get those orders ready for pickup in time. We’d asked Fred for an extension on our pickup, but he wasn’t able to help us today, so instead I thought I’d drive them over. I now sat outside of the Willow Valley Post Office and cut the engine.
I pulled the door open and stepped inside, waiting my turn. I didn’t have to wait long as Fred spotted me right away and came over.
“Hey, Tristan! I can come and help you out,” he said. “I’ll just grab a cart from the back, and we can get them loaded onto the truck. You’re just on time. Any later and they wouldn’t be going out until tomorrow.”
I turned and made my way out front and opened the trunk just as he appeared from the side of the building pulling a cart. Together we loaded box upon box onto the cart, then I closed the trunk.
“Just wait. There are a couple more on the back seat.”
“No problem. I can’t believe how many packages Brooke is sending out these days. It’s crazy. I remember when this first started. I think her first week she sent out ten packages in total.”
“Wow, really?” I questioned.
“Yeah she has really built something for herself. We are all so proud of her,” Fred said, taking the last couple of packages from me.
“I’m glad things are going well for her,” I muttered. “That’s all of them.” I closed the back door.
“Looks like her hard work has paid off. I’ll be coming in with the wife on Saturday for breakfast. Let Brooke know we’ll also be ordering our usual Christmas Eve tray. She'll know what I’m talking about.”
“Will do,” I said, watching as he took the cart back to the back of the building.
He turned and waved before disappearing. I was about to walk to the other side of the car when two people walking by smiled and said hello. “See you tomorrow morning, Tristan,” they sang.
I’d started helping Melinda at the counter when things got busy, and I’d recognized them from yesterday morning. They’d both come in for a hot chocolate. Was this what it was like to live in a small town? This certainly didn’t happen in the city, no one cared about who you were or what you did. You just went to work, got your groceries, and existed within your own little bubble. Here was different. I could understand why Brooke loved her community so much. These people actually cared about one another. It had shocked me how many people had asked about her over the last few days and wished her well. Hell, when I’d torn my rotator cuff playing ball, only one person in the office had asked how I was doing; the rest were too busy attending to their own problems and their own lives.
“Yep, tomorrow!” I called back and then headed around to the driver’s side and climbed in the car.
I made my way back to the bakery and pulled up to the curb just in time to see Melinda standing on the sidewalk.
“Hey, thanks for letting me borrow your car,” I said, handing her the keys. “Don’t think they would have fit in mine.”
“No problem. I have to run. I have a doctor’s appointment. Cici is just closing up. There are a few more dishes to do, but nothing you can’t handle, right?”
“Nope. I got it. Have a good night.”
Just then the front door opened and Cici appeared, locking the front door. “Good night, guys.” She waved as she headed off down the street.
“Back door is still open. Make sure you set the alarm before you leave,” Cici called out.
I watched as she climbed into the car and took off. I walked back to the back door and pulled it open. I made my way across the kitchen and went to turn lights on when I heard a tiny whimper, followed by another one, then a sniffle.
“Hello?” I called.
“What?” a sobbing voice called back.
I went around the corner and saw Brooke standing at the sink, her knee propped up on a scooter, her back turned away from me.
“Tristan, what are you doing here?” she cried.
I looked around at the small mess that was still left to clean up. “I came in to finish cleaning. However, I think that question should be asked of you.”
