30When I reached the baker’s office-alcove, May had slipped off her flip flops and climbed up onto one of the bulky chairs.
She’d tucked one leg under her and let the other foot dangle.
The two chairs must’ve come from the big and tall shop. The flat wood seats were at least five inches farther from the floor than I was used to.
I sat gingerly at the edge of the seat so that my sandals touched the ground. My pink toenails livened up the gray vinyl flooring beneath my soles.
I felt dwarfed by the big baker, her massive furniture, and the giant-size appliances.
May’s posture was casual but I saw tightness in her shoulders.
“You must feel very tiny in this kitchen,” I said softly to her.
“Like a little mouse.”
She giggled, adding a rodent-like squeak. Her eyes were wider, her expressi
