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“Time to open!” she called out this time.
I glanced at the clock and it wasn’t yet five thirty, but there was no need to argue with her. If she wanted to open up now, then so be it. I almost told her the rolls weren’t out here yet but figured she knew that since she was making them.
Grabbing the keys, I went to unlock the front door of the store, then hit the OPEN sign power switch. It was still dark outside, but headlights from those going to work were already on the street. We’d have someone in here within moments for coffee and a cinnamon roll.
“We are open,” I called out toward the kitchen while I made my way back to check on the coffee.
“Come get the cinnamon rolls,” Momma replied.
This would be the first batch. She’d make a few more. It was a Monday, after all.
I grabbed a disposable face mask from under the counter and slipped it on before tucking it under my chin until someone came inside. If I didn’t do it now, I’d forget. Then Momma would see me and have a fit.
She looked up from mixing the icing and frowned. “Put the mask on,” she scolded. “You are near food.”
So was she, I wanted to point out, but didn’t. I was too tired to argue. I slipped it over my nose and mouth, then picked up the first two dozen rolls. These would go quickly. The bell on the door chimed and I was back to the front. Mondays sucked.
Three hours later… all the cinnamon rolls were gone. I’d made six pots of coffee and was about ready to make the seventh pot when the door chimed again. Turning around—ready to answer the question “Are there any cinnamon rolls left?”—I paused when my eyes met Brady Higgens.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Morning,” he replied, then continued to stand there a moment before walking toward the counter. “I’m Brady Higgens,” he supplied as if he needed an introduction.
I nodded. “I know.” I wished I hadn’t said that after it came out. Glad my mask covered most of the embarrassment on my face, I didn’t say anything more.
“You’re Ezmita, correct?” he asked then, surprising the heck out of me.
I nodded in shock. How did Brady Higgens know my name?
“Asa Griffith is a friend of mine, and he told me y’all had become friends.” My mouth fell open this time. Thank you, mask mandate! At least I wasn’t standing there with my mouth gaping open for him to see.
He cleared his throat, then continued. “My girlfriend mentioned that you might want to come to a get-together we are having tomorrow night. It’s at Nash Lee’s place, where Asa is staying. We could come by and get you if you wanted to go. If you’re going to be hanging out with Asa, then we all would like to get to know you.”
Words. I needed to speak words. I wasn’t sure what words or if I could still say words. However, standing here gaping at him without saying anything made me appear as awkward as I was. Had Asa really said we were friends? Did he think of me as a friend? And when would we be hanging out? We had never hung out.
“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I was filling up outside and saw you in here. Thought I’d invite you if Asa hasn’t already.”
This was all so shockingly weird. I had given Brady Higgens bags of cinnamon rolls over the years. Never once had he said more than two words to me. Somehow amongst this strange other-world reality that was happening, I managed to nod my head. I thought it was in acceptance, but I wasn’t sure.
He flashed a bright smile. “Great. We will be by to pick you up at seven. Riley can’t wait to meet you.”
I think I nodded again, but those words weren’t coming.
He chuckled and although his smile was hidden behind a navy blue mask, his eyes crinkled with amusement. “Any chance you’ve got any cinnamon rolls left?” he asked then.
Thankfully, I managed to speak again. This was a question I was used to. Nothing surprising here. “We sold out. I’m sorry,” I said, and my voice sounded foreign to me.
He sighed. “Figured but thought I’d ask. I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he said, then turned and left the store. He seemed pleased with the fact he’d invited the weird girl who could barely speak to meet his friends. Had Asa asked him to invite me?
Had he really said we were friends?
“What are you standing there for? Wipe down the counters and door. Disinfect the place when it is slow!” Momma’s demanding tone suddenly snapped me out of my haze.
“Yes, Momma,” I replied.
I was in a trance as I wiped down the counter and door. Brady Higgens had invited me to a party with him and his girlfriend. I’d said yes.
