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“You’re right! Ugh, get out of here,” Jasmine said playfully as I grabbed my purse. I waved as I walked away.
As my pregnancy progressed and the reality of my marriage solidified, I found myself enjoying my alone time more and more. I was incredibly excited to marry Sebastian, but I knew the days when it would be me and a podcast during my commute were dwindling.
I pulled into the parking lot behind The Cookie Cove and made a beeline for the kitchen. My summer employees were now officially able to watch the shops by themselves, which gave me a couple of hours a day to work on larger projects.
This week, we were about to launch our ice cream cookie sandwich collaboration with Frosty Shack, a community favorite for ice cream during the blazing summer months. I needed to mix some chocolate chip cookie dough to bring to them for their cookie dough flavor, as well as get started on chocolate and chocolate chip cookies for the ice cream sandwiches.
I decided to start with the cookie dough first. Since I didn’t need to roll it out, all I would need to do was package it and throw it in the refrigerator until tomorrow morning when I dropped it off. I turned the radio up in the kitchen and got to work, letting the stress of my week fall away.
“Hey, Becca?” a small voice asked. It was Kayla; she was one of my summer employees. She was supremely shy and only in high school. This was the first time she addressed me directly.
“Hey, Kayla! What’s up? Do you need anything?” I asked as I wiped my flour-covered hands across my apron.
“Um, I’m about to go on my break. Could you, uh, watch the counter for a bit?”
“Of course! Go ahead; I’ll see you at three.” I washed my hands quickly and walked out into the shop, slipping behind the counter.
Granted, it was less of a slip and more of a bumbling slide. The days when I could easily slip through spaces were over. Even though I’d been working more behind the scenes lately, I easily slipped back into customer-service mode.
I chatted with my regulars and handed out free cookies to the kids who were going to Olivia’s shop to turn in their completed summer reading program forms. I always loved the shop during the summer. It was when The Cookie Cove felt most alive.
I spotted a small gaggle of the ladies of the Dover Chamber of Commerce through the window. They wore visors and sundresses. Gladys, who was always cold, wore a thick woolen cardigan even though it was eighty degrees out. I hadn’t seen any of them since the Tulip Festival. I waved through the window. Eugenia waved back.
The bell dinged as Eugenia opened the door and held it for the rest of the ladies as they shuffled in.
“Hello, Becca! It’s wonderful to see you!” she called.
“Same to you! How’s your summer going? Do you want coffee or tea?” I asked.
“Do you have iced decaf coffee?” she asked.
“We sure do. What size would you like?”
“A small please, and a S’mores cookie. I had one of them at the party for trailblazers last week, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. That’s why I dragged the rest of the girls over here on our lunch break,” she explained.
“Aw, thank you! That’s so kind of you,” I said as I rang her up.
“It’s three twenty-six for the cookie, and don’t worry about the coffee,” I said with a grin.
“Rebecca, you’re a doll. Ophelia would be so proud,” Eugenia said. I felt myself tearing up.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I turned to grab her coffee so she wouldn’t see me crying.
I handed her the coffee. “Cream and sugar are to your left,” I said, trying to remain professional. I didn’t have time to let my emotions get the best of me because the rest of the Chamber had formed a line behind Eugenia.
“Now come on, Regina, stop being so sour. You’ll love this place,” Irma croaked.
Irma was the sort of old woman who confirmed that people shrunk as they got older. She had to have been 4’10 at the most. She was precious and whip smart. I adored her, but something about the name Regina irked me.
My palms started to sweat. I tried to reassure myself that the ladies at the Chamber knew to keep my connection to The Cookie Cove a secret from my mother. They loved schemes, right? And my mother hadn’t said anything about going to Dover. Granted, I hadn’t talked to her in over a week. But she hated Dover! She called it a podunk town! She’d never set foot in there unless her mother’s best friends asked her to. My heart plummeted down to my kneecaps. I felt sweat beading across my forehead. There were plenty of old ladies named Regina, right?
“Irma, I told you for the last time, I don’t like sweets.” My mother’s voice was unmistakable. I contemplated ducking below the counter, but there was nowhere to hide. I was the only person in the shop. I forced my visor down over my forehead and contemplated trying to deepen my voice. Luckily, the industrial baking apron I wore was made of thick material, and the counter plus the I-pad we used as a register hid my belly. Still, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this was about to be very, very bad.
”Tryone! Come on. My favorite is the iced lemon; we can split one,” Irma cooed. Her eyes lit up when she saw me.
“Oh, Rebecca, dear! I forgot that you worked here!” she crowed.
“Worked here?” My mother hissed. I watched as she took in the sight of me standing behind the counter, wearing an apron with a pink rag sticking out of the pocket. I decided to take a page out of my teenage years and ignore the disdain radiating off her in waves of silent fury. She was too stunned to speak. Either that, or she was torn between her need to rip me a new one and her need to look like a kind, devoted daughter in front of her mother’s friends.
