Chapter Ten
1330 Words
Chapter Ten
“You could stay with me,” Jenny offered, “if you don’t mind the live-in boyfriend and sleeping on the couch.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Adalia said, unlocking the front door of the bakery. It was early in the morning, so early that the birds hadn’t even started chirping yet. That was how it went in the trade, bake early, sell fresh.
“Come on, it wouldn’t be a big deal.”
“You and I both know that wouldn’t work, Jen. I appreciate it, but it just wouldn’t pan out.” They filed in, the first to arrive and she closed the door behind them and flicked on the lights in the shop area.
It was decorated in candy blues, pinks and pearly whites. There were cute cupcake signs and places for people to sit. Hell, there was even a coffee bar. Trent had an eye for what worked, and this definitely worked.
“Why not?” Jenny dumped her bag on the counter and popped a hip. She whipped out her chef’s whites and pulled them on over her tank top, then proceeded to button them up.
“Because I’d get on your nerves and end up staying longer than I should somehow. Actually, no,” Adalia said, then followed Jenny’s example, “it’s not that I don’t have a plan. Look, I’m going to get paid something at the end of this month, it’s inevitable, but it’s the lead up that worries me.”
“Your dad’s in that much trouble?”
Adalia’s voice cracked slightly. “I’m afraid another month might break him. It’s getting urgent now. I had no idea that things were that bad for him financially. Seeing the bills was an eye opener.”
“Then come stay with me,” Jenny urged, bustling over to her. She squeezed Adalia’s arm and peered into her eyes. “It will be fine, I promise. A friend in need and all that.”
“I’m not anyone’s burden. I refuse to be. Besides, he wouldn’t let me go if he knew it’s in with a friend and not to my own place. He’s weird like that.”
“He just wants what’s best for you,” Jenny replied then turned her arm squeeze into a pat.
“Yeah, well we’d better get to baking before the sun rises.” Adalia turned toward the kitchen and they walked in together.
The silence of the kitchen lulled her. She loved this feeling.
Deathly quiet followed by the slow hum of the machines, the focus of working on dough with hands. They never spoke during this time. From the minute they entered the kitchen until the sun rose, the only sounds in the kitchen were the bangs and clangs of trays, and the soft poof or squelch of dough being teased into shape.
It was the pure time. Hours of total peace without interruption. This was how life was meant to be and how the day was meant to start. No yoga or exercise, instead, the peace of the craft.
Slam!
The front door of the bakery opened and shut, and they met each other’s gazes. What was that about? The other employees were never this noisy when they came in.
Adalia was loathe to break the silence, and Jenny kept her mouth shut, too. Their hands were covered in flour, and Adalia’s fingers were sticky with dough in between.
“’Lo? Dalie?”
Jenny’s frown was punctuated by a raised eyebrow. It probably sounded like a foreign language, but Adalia was too familiar with it by now.
“What do you want, DeShawn?” She marched to the sink and washed her hands, then scrubbed them on a paper towel. Their date had hardly been worth mentioning.
DeShawn stumbled into the kitchen then braced himself against the doorjamb. “Where you at, woman?”
“Have you gone blind? Or has the alcohol rendered you dumb?” Adalia turned and waved at him, then rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this now, DeShawn. I’ve got work to do.”
“You said you gonna call and you never did.”
“Just because I said it, doesn’t make it true.” She gritted her teeth. She hadn’t meant to lie to him. She’d purely forgotten the minute he’d dropped her off at home. That night she’d gone over the contents of the dossier and sent her brother a text to organize an appointment.
“How drunk are you right now?” She examined him from afar with her fists on her hips. “Because this barging into places seems to be a trend with you.”
The front door of the bakery opened and closed again. The other workers entered the kitchen, filing past with the rising sun, chattering but giving DeShawn a wide berth. The scent of alcohol wafted through the room and a few of them rubbed at their noses.
“Jenny, organize them please. I’ve got a personal matter to attend to,” she said, pointing to the others in the room. Then she walked up to DeShawn and grabbed him by the wrist.
“Baby, I had to –”
“Don’t speak until I get you out into the front of the shop.”
She frog marched him through, and he miraculously obeyed the command. Adalia positioned him in one of the chairs and paced up and down in front of him.
“I hesitated about giving you another chance at a date with me because of this kind of behavior, DeShawn.”
“I’m not that drunk,” he said, then gave a low burp and didn’t bother stifling it behind his hand.
“And I’m not that stupid.” Adalia breathed deep to calm herself. She couldn’t believe she still had a smidgen of remorse for this guy. Hell, she still had feelings for him, even after their past.
“I don’t got that much dough, don’t got no fancy car, but, girl, I’ll look after you if you let me.”
“I don’t need you to look after me. I need a partner who’s strong, who cares, who respects me for who I am.”
“I need you in my life, baby, you are a rock to me.”
“So we’ve gone from you protecting me to me supporting you. That’s exactly right, though. All I ever was to you was a means of support. Someone to lean on in tough times.”
“That ain’t true.”
Adalia sighed and looked around the bakery. She’d arrived where she’d wanted to, kind of, and she couldn’t go back into the past. It wasn’t right. It wouldn’t solve any of her problems.
“How’s your old man?” DeShawn slurred and she flinched. He’d picked up on that? No, it wasn’t possible, he’d come in after they’d finished talking about it.
“He’s fine.” She folded her arms.
“Word is he struggling.”
Adalia’s heart beat faster. “Where did you hear that?”
“People talk.” DeShawn rubbed his eyes then rested his hand on his chin, but his elbow slipped off the table and he jerked upright.
“Well, people are wrong a lot of the time.” She dropped her hands to her sides and clenched her fists instead.
“Whatever, baby. If you needs a place to stay, I got your back.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” she replied. “DeShawn, you’d better leave.”
“What?! Ah, c’mon, girl, I come all the way out here to see you,” he grunted, and struggled to his feet. “At least lemme take you on another date.”
“No, DeShawn, you were late for the last one and you’re drunk right now. I don’t want to date you. I don’t want this kind of drama in my life.”
“I’ll quit drinking,” he announced, then stumbled to one side and regained his balance.
“Yeah, and the sun will stop shining tomorrow.” Adalia shook her head. No matter how she felt about him, she couldn’t let it overcome her common sense.
“Okay, just give me one last chance to prove myself.”
“No, you’ve had plenty of chances.”
“Don’t be such a b***h,” he snapped.
She gestured to the door. She didn’t have time to respond to idiocy. She would call him once he’d sobered up, and they could discuss his behavior.
“I’ll call you, DeShawn. We can talk about this because it’s obvious you’re not going to stop this madness.”
“Madness? I ain’t mad.” DeShawn’s drunken rage grew and he straightened his spine, glaring at her.
“Get out now,” she said, and the door of the bakery opened.
Trent stood there, early for once, glaring at DeShawn. “What do we have here?”
- Writer
