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I frown. "Doing what?"
"I'm not a charity case." Her face has become a little pinched.
"I never said you were."
Now, she frowns. "You didn't have to say it."
I reach out and touch her arm. "Denise, I'm sorry if I did anything to make you feel that way. I was just trying to be nice."
After a couple more bites of her meal, she sighs, her shoulders sagging.
"I'm sorry," she says. "Money has just become a sensitive thing for me, I guess."
"You doing okay?" I ask.
She gives me a sheepish look. "Things have been… difficult since Mom passed. That's why this meeting with Tinsley Simon mattered so much. I… I'm no Sylvia Lawson. But this proves that maybe someday, Icanbe."
I smile along with her. "Of course," I say. "You are a phenomenal baker."
She rolls her eyes at me like a child. "I'm not as good as Mom was. Not by a long shot. But she left all her recipes behind for me, so I'm trying my best. It was a big shock when she gave the bakery to me. I was a stay-at-home mom for most of my life, so I don't have any experience running a business like this."
Before I can stop myself, I ask, "You have kids?"
She nods, chewing her next bite of food. "My daughter Sophia just started her freshman year at Texas A&M."
I smile. "You must be proud. Although I'm guessing you probably miss her too."
Denise nods. "Very much." She swallows and clears her throat. "But I want her to get a good education, you know? I don't want this bakery to hold her back too."
The words hit my ears, and it takes a moment for me to process them.Too?Does Denise think the bakery is holding her back?
The sludgy feeling of guilt shifts inside me again, but I force myself past it. This is the first chance I've seen to even bring this up with her. I have to take it. "Have you ever thought of selling it?"
She looks up at me, puzzled. "The bakery?"
I gulp. "Yeah. Instead of running it." I grip my spoon tighter, feeling my fingers getting sweaty.
Her eyes stray from mine to the large window beside us, looking out over the sea. I wonder for a minute if she's considering it, trying to come up with a reason to not say yes.
Instead, out of nowhere, she starts to laugh.
"What?" I ask, surprised.
"I'm sorry," she says between giggles. "It's just that I honestly thought of doing just that the day I got it. My brother wanted it so badly. He's in real estate, you know."
"But you got it instead? Were you closer to your mother or something?"
Her lips press together pensively. After a moment, she says, "In a way, I guess so. I knew her the longest."
"You're the oldest?"
She nods. "By about five years. And that's just between me and my brother. My sister, Sheila, is four years younger than him."
"Those are some age gaps," I say.
"Everyone thinks so." She giggles to herself again. "But that's just how our family was. My parents, they… they tried for many years to have children, but it was a struggle for them. My mother was a bored housewife at the time, and she was always the kind of person who wanted a project. And a baby would have been that for her. But they couldn't have one of their own. So, they adopted."
"All of their kids?"
