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Ingrid nodded, her eyes twinkling with agreement. "Indeed, my dear. It is these moments that keep our spirits alive and our hearts full."
The evening continued in a symphony of shared labor and heartfelt conversation, each moment a testament to the bonds that held them together through the years.
“Let’s talk about you.” The scent of bread baking permeated the air and wrapped around them like a cloak. “I still cannot believe you’re married, much more to a man like that.”
“I made hot chocolate earlier.”
“I would never say no to hot chocolate.” Ingrid jumped into the familiar rhythm of things and started to box up the tarts andstrawberry shortcake. “All done.” She accepted the cup gratefully and sat around the counter. “Sit, please.” She ordered the younger woman. “You’re making me dizzy as usual.”
‘I feel like I have to keep moving.” Sherrian, sat across from her and wrapped her hands around the cup, trying to absorb the warmth. She was definitely coming down with something. Dammit!
Ingrid studied Sherrian's face with a discerning eye. "You look a bit pale, dear. “Are you feeling alright?" She asked, concern evident in her voice.
Sherrian forced a smile, hoping to convince Ingrid - and perhaps herself - that she was fine. "I'm probably just tired. It has been a hectic week."
Ingrid reached across the counter, her hand a comforting presence on Sherrian's. "Sometimes we need to take a moment for ourselves. The world can wait."
The younger woman sighed, feeling the truth of Ingrid's words settle deep within her. The warmth of the hot chocolate seeped through the ceramic mug, offering a small measure of comfort. "You always know what to say," she murmured, grateful for the older woman's unwavering support.
“Tell me about your young man,” Ingrid urged and she almost automatically denied that he was before she realized what she was about to say.
“He’s…” She sipped hot chocolate and contemplated. “He’s different.”
Ingrid tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "Different how?"
Sherrian stared into her cup, as if the swirling chocolate held the answers she sought. "He's..., he's kind and thoughtful in ways I never expected. He listens, truly listens, and he makes me feel seen, like I matter."
A gentle smile spread across Ingrid's face. "That sounds wonderful, dear. Everyone deserves to feel that way."
Sherrian nodded, her eyes lifting to meet Ingrid's. "It is. But it is also terrifying. I am not used to this kind of attention, this level of care. It is almost as if I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."
Ingrid's expression softened further, the lines of her face etched with understanding and compassion. "Love, real love, can be frightening because it asks us to be vulnerable, to trust. But it also has the power to heal, to bring out the best in us. Give it time, Sherrian. Allow yourself to be happy."
She considered that for a moment. “I spent a lot of time blaming myself for what happened with Greg.’ She flicked a glance at Ingrid. “You know how obsessed I become especially when I am creating something new.”
“Oh yes!” Ingrid laughed softly and then sobered. “He fooled you into thinking he understood and was behind you all the way.”
Sherrian nodded. “I do not want to make that mistake again. I become focused so much on work and it is going to get even more intense. I am doing all this renovations and expansions, and I have all these grandiose ideas. What if I am taking on too much?”
Ingrid reached across to squeeze her hand lightly. “I have always admired your zest and the way you have about you that makes any tasks seem possible.
From the very first day you walked through those doors, I knew you were someone special and that I would have to watch myself or you would be booting me out.” She laughed at the wry look on Sherrian’s face. “And I was right. You have visions my dear and I do not want you to ever apologize for it.”
“I just feel drained,” she admitted.
“You have just gotten back from spending a week in Europe and for the past two weeks you have been thrown into the fray.” Her eyes twinkled. “And I don’t suppose it’s easy to deal with that dour looking man I passed on the way in.”
“You mean, Daniel.” She muttered wryly. “He and I have a hate-hate relationship. If he wasn’t so fricking brilliant, I would be giving him his walking papers. But he is the best and I just have to put up with him for a few more weeks. He promised that the place would be finished before Christmas.”
“It’s already beginning to take shape.”
They both looked up when an employee came into the kitchen.
“I’m afraid the crowd is a little more than we can handle out front.”
“You stay where you are,” Ingrid ordered as Sherrian jumped to her feet, “I will go and handle the cash register.”
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