Page 12 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes

Candace

S weat streaked down Candace in artful patterns.

Sheening, slick, and result of the best release of endorphins she had in months.

It was intense. Passionate, even. The only thing better would have been sex.

Unfortunately, it had been ages since she managed that kind of release.

This activity was the best alternative she could get.

Hot yoga was one of the few places Candace let herself descend into disarray.

She had only started practicing a few years back, having been dragged to a class by Demi during one of her many visits to New York.

But, after forcing herself through some rough initial sweltering forays, she fell in love.

It was glorious. She sweated, huffed, and put on muscle that her uncle complained about being “mannish.” Despite a lifetime of obsessively worrying about what everyone was thinking of her, she only paid attention to what was happening on her own mat.

Today of all days, it was exactly what she needed to recenter herself.

The pep talk Demi gave her afterwards was less helpful.

After showering at the yoga studio, the pair headed out for a late dinner at her family’s restaurant.

A cacophony of clinks and casual conversation filled the bustling Greek diner.

Candace was glad to see the place so busy, as much as it used to be years ago when she would visit Demi while she waited tables.

Just like back then, the woman could not help fussing over her.

Demi leaned over the faux marble laminant tabletop towards Candace, and her bold, arched brows knitted with concern.

“So, you’re really doing this?”

“Eating a whole gyro? After that workout, yeah, I think I can manage.”

Demi blew her drink straw paper at Candace, missing by a mile.

“Don’t play dumb. I’m talking about this scheme of yours. You and Daisy have history. Complicated history. It sounds to me like she doesn’t even want your help.”

“Who said anything about scheming? I’ve been suggesting. Emphatically, because I’m right. Whether she wants my help or not, she’s dead in the water without me.”

Snorting, Demi joked, “There’s that famous Perry humility.

I’m glad to see your ego is back.” The comment and tangential comparison to Peter Perry rankled.

As Candace winced, Demi was perceptive as ever and noticed.

Her hand found Candace’s atop the table.

“Sorry. It’s a good thing, I mean it. I was worried after—”

“Don’t be,” Candace cut her off. She did not want to hear the word ‘fired.’ Being in limbo for her next job was bad enough.

She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms, trying her best not to sound defensive.

“Look. Who helped you write your business plan for the studio? Or put together that elaborate doppelganger story to get your ex off your back?”

“You,” she conceded in a huff .

“Yep, me. As long as you’ve known me, I’ve always had a plan. And this is a golden one.”

“For you, or for her?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The bangles on Demi’s wrists jingled as she held up her hands in defense. “Nothing. I just want to make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons… Not because you feel guilty over what happened between you two.”

Leave it to Demi to cut to the heart of things. She knew Candace better than anyone else, making it difficult to hide from the truth. Thankfully, one of Demi’s young cousins chose that moment to drop a whole tray of fountain soda drinks. The thunderous crash made the entire place fall silent.

Under her breath, Demi mumbled something in Greek and sidled out of the booth. To Candace, she ordered, “Hold that thought.”

Candace could not help smiling as she watched the scene.

While the girl, Tina, cried over her clumsiness and ineffectively dabbed at the mess with her lone towel, her family set to action.

There was a lot of bickering and opinions on the best way to mop.

Demi looked like she wanted to slap her cousin Leo when he suggested using paper towels.

It was like something out of a comedy skit.

Most importantly, though, they rallied around each other when one of them needed help.

South Jersey Greek diners had a distinct vibe. It was pure chaos, a perfect dance of synchronized service. Always family-run, and staffed with every extended relative capable of wiping down a sticky menu. From backline cook to hostess, they knew that they could rely on each other for support.

But who did Bagel Bombs! have? Who would step in to help Daisy? Candace knew what it was like to not have a big family support system.

When Demi came back, she brought their food with her.

Two heaping platters, gyros (pronounced YEE-roh , not JAI-ros, as Demi would firmly correct), one lamb for Candace, the other falafel for Demi, looked like little food mountains atop the table.

The scent of warmed pita, dill, and other spices sent a flood of saliva into Candace’s mouth.

Before she tucked in, Candace ignored Demi’s question and asked one of her own. “What do they say about Daisy? She must have friends and hobbies…. Go places in the off-season. I know you hear things from your yogis.”

“Oh yeah, I hear a lot of things. But I’m no Gabby-gossip.”

Laughing, Demi tossed her petite frame back against the plush, pleather maroon booth backing.

Small and curvy with a deceptive amount of muscle thanks to her yogic pursuits, she had shoulder-length, curly auburn hair that she most often confined in a loose (yet effortlessly artistic) bun.

With big, colorful, beaded earrings and an airy, floral print creamy white dress, she set a particular boho vibe.

In a lineup, she would be the first person you would point out as the owner of a chic, small town yoga studio.

However, her cute, festival girl appearance hid that she was a shrewd businesswoman like her restaurant-owning relatives.

Over the last several years, Demi turned her little shore town yoga studio, Downwood Dog Yoga, into a vacation destination.

Candace gave her a few financial pointers, but really, the woman earned her success.

With special classes on the beach, teacher training, and more, shoobies and locals alike loved her.

She had clientele from all walks of life, young and old, rich and poor… Bagel-eaters…

She had to have heard something of Daisy DeMarco.

“Demi,” Candace urged. “You can’t ask me if I’m sure, then clam up. What’s the deal with her? Her bagels are delicious, she’s good at what she does, but she seems…”

Overwhelmed? Alone? Or, maybe, Candace was just projecting.

Demi gave a belated answer after taking a heaping bite of her gyro. “If you ask me, she’s stuck.”

“‘Stuck?’”

“Well, think about it. Zee has been tethered to that bagel stand since her parents’ accident. Before that, even, with how much she worked when we were kids. Like you said, she’s good at it. But I don’t think her heart has been in it for a long time. And…”

“What?”

Demi bit her lip, looking uncomfortable. “They say she won't leave the island.”

“You mean she’s a homebody?”

“No. I mean, she hasn’t left Wonderwood in over a decade. She keeps to herself.”

Completely to herself, or…? Candace plugged her mouth with a hot, salty steak fry before she could embarrass herself asking about Daisy’s dating history.

Swallowing, she mused, “Maybe she just needs help. With the right push, I think Bagel Bombs! could take off. Then, I could start to put my life back on track.”

“You will. Even if this isn’t your path, you’ll find your way, Can-can. No matter what, I’m here for you.”

Candace grimaced at the nickname. Demi knew she hated it and only whipped it out when she was trying to be particularly annoying or earnest. An uncomfortable tightness pressed Candace’s chest in a physical manifestation of how trapped she felt. This had to work, otherwise…

To cover her unease, Candace navigated taking a bite of her gyro.

The burst of flavor was a welcome distraction.

Earthy herb-spiced lamb, juicy beefsteak tomato, crunchy red onions, lettuce, and feta crumbles were ensconced within warm, pillowy pita in an irresistible combination.

Her shoulders lost some of their tension as she chewed, and she did not rush to wipe the tzatziki sauce dripping down her chin.

Face pinched with worry, Demi cleaned Candace herself. “Honestly. Just because your life is a mess right now doesn’t mean you have to eat like one.”

Candace gave a ditzy shrug. “I might be a mess, but at least I’m cute. Look at you. Just can’t help taking care of me after all these years, can you? ”

“Brat. And you won’t even tip me these days.”

Candace stuck out her tongue, then took another graceless bite. Demi smiled fondly and pulled another wad of napkins from the dispenser. Dependable, loving Demi; Candace knew she would always have her best interests at heart.

They met shortly after Candace came to Wonderwood, during the brief period that Uncle Perry and his friends were trying to court Demi’s aunt for some project they wanted greenlit.

Along with being a long-time restaurateur, the indomitable woman was also a town council member.

She was not amused by their brownnosing and made it known that all they were buying was her delicious food.

Uncle Perry was disappointed and carried on his vendetta to this day. Candace, meanwhile, had gotten a best friend.

“How’s your Aunt Anathea?” Candace watched the woman behind the diner’s wrap-around counter and noted, “She hasn’t changed one bit. You mentioned things have been awkward since the divorce?”

“That’s a word for it,” Demi mumbled. She filled her mouth with gyro, looking sullen.

It was very awkward. Introducing her aunt’s husband to his future affair partner, one of her studio’s other yoga teachers, no less, had been an accident.

Even so, it put a dent in Demi’s once-close relationship with her aunt.

After making eye contact from across the diner, Aunt Anathea stopped by their table for a hello.

To Demi, or Demitria as she greeted formally, there was a distinct coldness.

Candace was a different story. Never one for physical boundaries, the woman bent into the booth and yanked Candace close for a side-hug.

“ Omorfi mou! It’s been too long! You’re so grown up and lovely, but you still have an appetite!”

“Thank you, Ms. Panopoulos. I’ve missed your cooking. New York gyros don’t have anything on yours.”

Pulling back, big, gleaming teeth flashed with the woman’s smile.

The physical resemblance between her and Demi was strong, like looking at future or past versions of the same person.

Especially their eyes; their kind, brown warmth they both possessed was like warm cocoa on a chilly day.

She pinched Candace’s cheek, chiding, “It’s ‘ Theia Thea’ to you. Are you visiting?”

“No, I’m… um…”

“She’s sussing out some new opportunities in the area,” Demi answered for Candace. “In the meantime, she’s a Jersey girl again.”

Theia Thea did not look at Demi, but she nodded with understanding. “Well, Wonderwood is lucky to have you back for however long you’ll be here. This booth has your name on it whenever you want a good, home-cooked meal—as long as you don’t bring that bastard uncle of yours.”

Candace hated that no matter where she went or who she spoke to, that man somehow wormed his way in. Forcing a smile, she assured, “Don’t worry, I’m a one-top. I’m sorry for all the trouble he’s given you.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Theia Thea waved a hand with long, nicely manicured nails in the air as if it cleared the thought. “His type is a dime a dozen. He’s just a big baby who doesn’t like hearing ‘no.’”

“Well, still, I’m sorry.”

A sincere, knowing smile tugged the woman’s full, dark red lips. “Family is more than blood. You might not have picked him, but the Panopoulos’ pick you . Don’t be a stranger.”

With that, Theia Thea went off to take care of any one of the million other things that demanded her attention in the bustling place.

It was odd. A warm, contented feeling filled Candace as her gaze followed the motherly woman set to work.

It was a familiar sight, but one she had not seen in so long.

Was this what other people felt like when they returned home?

For the first time since she came back to Wonderwood, pleasant memories stuck out over the bad.

After finishing what they could of their platters and wrapping the rest to go, Candace begrudgingly let Demi pay their tab.

It was cheap thanks to a family and friends discount, which made her grateful heart grow to bursting.

She waited while Demi hugged her cousins goodbye, fighting back happy tears.

The pair left Zeus' Torch and exited onto the boardwalk.

Despite the slight chill of the May evening, the place was packed with people crammed from storefront to rail.

Candace watched the bustle with awe. In just a few short, weeks schools would let out, and the shoobies would arrive in full force.

More so than ever, she was sure this would be a record-breaking summer.

Down the boardwalk, too far to see, Candace wondered how Rio was doing at the bagel cafe.

Daisy had to be long gone. It was nearly closing time, and they had both been up since well before dawn.

Longer, in Candace’s case, since she had never been able to fall asleep.

She could not believe she had gotten through that whole shift, a yoga class, and was still standing.

After stuffing her face, all she wanted to do was crash.

And yet, her eyes lingered in the direction of Bagel Bombs!.

Beside her, Demi gave Candace a peck on her cheek. “If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that you know how to get what you want. Business-Candace has her time and place. But, if this is really what you’re after, you might need some sweetness to draw them in.”

“You’re probably right.”

Candace cringed. It was time for Candy to come out and play.