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My mom notices. “And that’s exactly what I’m talking about! When she was here, you two were joking, laughing, and baking together. You were so happy. And now, you’re angry and sullen. Not to mention falling behind on your work.”
“So what do you suggest I do?” I ask. I genuinely want to know.
“Go apologize.”
I shake my head. “She won’t listen. I went too far with my tests.”
“That’s true, you did.” She pauses and rubs her hand on my arm. “But maybe this is the final test. If you can gain her forgiveness, there could be something really special for the two of you.”
I don’t have to ask if she means for me personally or for the business, because I know.
She means both.
Madeleine is perfect for me in every way. She challenges me, makes me a better baker, and a better person.
And I ruined it, just like I ruined these cookies.
“I’ll take over the front for the rest of the day,” my mom says. “But please take this time to consider what I’m saying. And if you can figure out a way to apologize that will show her you care…even better.”
She turns and leaves through the swinging door without waiting for my acknowledgment, because she knows she’s right. She usually is, even though I’d never tell her that.
I scan the kitchen, grateful I can focus on baking, but overwhelmed at the mess I’ve left for myself. I start taking the empty trays to the sink, and something pink and sparkly in the corner of the room catches my eye.
Madeleine’s notebook.
Did she leave it here this whole time? I’m sure she misses it, although she said she wouldn’t be able to bake much in her parents’ tiny apartment. Still, I should bring it back to her.
I flip through the pages, smiling at the notes she left for herself throughout. Too much salt. Not enough leavening. Needs more chocolate chips!!!!
At the end of the notebook, I find a list.
Ideas to help Mason with his bakery
- Change the name
- Add decorations
- Figure out his gluten-free cookies (peas?)
- Secure orders and help him bake them
Last week, this list would have made me upset, the same way I worried that she was trying to take over. But I realize what she titled the list: “Ways to help Mason with his bakery.”
I’m such an idiot.
I let my issues with Natalie overshadow the fact that she was trying to be the perfect complement. She wasn’t trying to take over; she was trying to be my partner.
And that’s what I truly need.
I look over the list, and my eyes catch on a different word this time: peas. My brain starts formulating a way to show her that I’m sorry. I just have to pray she’ll understand.
Chapter Seven
Madeleine
Jim Croce really knows how to hit the heartstrings.
Seriously, “Time in a Bottle” is a masterpiece. I guess I wasn’t really listening to the words when I was busy baking with Mason, but now that I have all the time in the world to sit and wallow over my lost job…and losing my chance with Mason…I’ve listened to this song about five hundred times.
