Page 5 of Beaches, Bagels & Babes
“I know what those nightmare-fuel sea spiders are,” Candace shot back. “I just hadn’t heard anything about an exhibit. Also, isn’t this cafe located on that attention-grabbing boardwalk?”
Almost, very nearly almost, Daisy swiped the cup Candice was drawing to her smugly upturned, peony pink lips. Rather, she found herself watching the subtle shifts as they met cups’ top, imagining what they would look like pressed against…
Daisy was rescued from her daydreams as Norman continued.
“It’s a hoot! Those little critters are an important part of the ecosystem and medical science, so the wildlife center decided to do a little publicity campaign.
” He rifled through the local newspaper propped on his lap and handed over a page that detailed the whole affair to Candace. To her credit, she feigned interest.
“How cute! It looks like the wildlife center went all out. I appreciate you letting me know. I’m not exactly here as a tourist, but if I have time, I’ll take a look.”
They chatted a bit longer about the upcoming summer, how the farmer’s almanac said it was going to be a stormy end of the season, and other simple things.
Daisy listened with begrudging gratefulness.
Although Candace would never know it, she probably made Norman’s week since he loved nothing more than chatting up fellow counter-sitters.
Nowadays, though, people were too glued to their phones for idle conversation.
Could Candace have changed? Daisy wondered. Or is this all some weird rich-girl ploy?
Not too long later, Norman finished his coffee. He neatly folded his paper with a crisp $20 tucked inside (overpaying as always) and went off with a tip of his suede fedora.
Daisy waved, saying, “Thanks, Norm. See ya tomorrow.”
There were few things she could count on, but the old man perched on that stool was one of them. Daisy cleared his cup and the paper wrappings from his breakfast, keenly aware that Candace watched her all the while.
The silence was deafening. Not even the sounds of bustling vacationers, the roaring fun pier, or the ambient crashing of waves could cover Daisy’s internal scream of SAY SOMETHING!!! Candace was the one to give in, and her tone was stilted as a first-time line-read.
“You must enjoy this. Running the cafe, I mean. ”
Enjoy it?
Daisy almost laughed. The metaphorical (sometimes literal) blood and sweat she put into keeping Bagel Bombs! alive was immeasurable. Scrimping, saving, spending all her waking hours doing whatever she could to keep the place in business…
‘Enjoy’ was the last word Daisy would use to describe her circumstances. But, she wasn’t about to complain to Candace Perry.
“It’s a job. Pays the bills, mostly.”
“Ah, I see. I wasn’t sure if you would have sold it after…”
Candace trailed off, but Daisy guessed what she was about to say.
It was delicate; a tragedy that the whole island, even semi-locals like Candace, knew.
One rainy day accident sparked a whole public safety campaign with shiny new signs to indicate the town bridge’s status.
They even made up a mascot, Slippery Sally, to make learning about car hydroplaning fun for kids. For Daisy, it changed her whole life.
“You mean,” Daisy finished, “after my parents took a swan dive into the bay?”
Candace choked on her coffee. She came close to staining her romper but managed to catch the liquid in her free hand. She shook her fingers to the side to dry them.
“I was going to say after high school. I’m so sorry. I only meant I was surprised to see you here. You were always drawing in that, what was it…? A field journal? I thought you would've become a marine biologist or write a nature comic book.”
This time, Daisy was the one to falter. Her thumbs hooked into the loop of her apron tie, tugging anxiously at the knot.
“You remember that? Well, plans change. Some bridges go up in flames, others get icy when wet. After the accident, the cafe fell on me, so things just kind of worked out this way.”
Pity filled Candace’s eyes. It made Daisy uncomfortable, reminding her that she was pitiable.
In a rush, she added, “Plus, my parents put their hearts and souls into this place. I could never forgive myself if I shut it down. Might not be my choice sooner rather than later, but I’ll keep the lights on as long as I can. ”
“Oh? Have things been difficult in the bagel business?” Stumbling, Candace backtracked. “I’m sorry. If you’d rather not say—”
Daisy let loose a snort. She panned a hand around the dingy cafe space, saying, “I think this speaks for itself. Once the fun pier opened up its own breakfast options, offering discounts with ride purchases and points for season ticket holders, my numbers never recovered. Every year I manage to stay open is a surprise.”
Candace gasped.
“That’s criminal! The food on the fun pier is gross, processed, over-portioned crap bursting with grease and high fructose corn syrup. Your bagel bombs are better by miles!”
“Hm? I don’t remember you ever buying my bombs.”
Again, Candace’s face shifted to that adorable ‘you’ve caught me’ look. She fished for an excuse and mumbled something about friends ordering. “I enjoyed them in passing, once or twice. But it’s been a long time.”
Biting her tongue was the only way Daisy did not break out into a full grin. She always knew that Candace Perry was a secret customer. The confirmation was beyond satisfaction, closer to catharsis.
With a forced air of cool, Daisy crossed her arms. “You’re damn right. My bagels are fucking delicious, so I’m not giving up without a fight. Where else could someone get their fix of pimento, creme brulee, Nashville hot chicken, or—”
“Or peanut butter and jelly?”
Candace pointed to the neat placard inside the refrigerated display as she spoke.
Her face was impassive, like she was asking about the weather.
Even so, there was something in her eyes, a glimmer, that spoke of summers’ past. There was something else, too; unmistakable against her bright clothes, a crimson flush flooded her winter-washed skin.
Was she flirting with Daisy? Over bagels ?
Impossible.
Did Candace even admit that she was attracted to women these days?
For her part, Daisy had no intention of flirting with the woman before her.
Regardless of how nice (or attractive) Candace was at present, she hurt Daisy.
Maybe that was why Daisy wanted to tease her now.
She braced herself against the countertop and arched over Candace’s seat so the woman would be forced to meet her eye.
“Yeah,” she answered in a low rumble. “I’ve got that. Want a sample?”
Candace squirmed under Daisy’s shadow. She swallowed hard, and her mouth bobbed with an inaudible response.
“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.”
The flush crept further up Candace’s neck, all the way to her ears.
“I—”
RIIIING
“I—”
RING RIIIIIING
Eyebrow cocked, Daisy asked, “You gonna get that?”
“Oh, um…” Fumbling, Candace withdrew her blaring phone from the expensive clutch looped over one shoulder. Disappointment mixed with dread morphed her features once she read the caller ID. Finally, resignation.
Daisy guessed, “Uncle Moneybags?”
Tight-lipped, Candace nodded. “I need to take this. Can I… I mean, would it be alright, if—”
“Here.” Daisy tossed Candace a baggie with one peanut butter and jelly bagel bomb. “You’ll have to eat it cold. Let me know if it’s as good as you remember.”
“… I will.”
For one last lingering moment, Candace kept her eyes trained on Daisy. Then, with a vicious thumb-swipe, she answered her phone and spun on her heel. As she power-walked away, her voice, which raised to an impossibly sweet tilt, carried with her .
“Uncle Per-per! Thank you for—. Yes, I understand. Of course. Be there soon.”
Daisy watched until the woman was swallowed up by the bustling throng.
Candace Perry, who looked like a picture-perfect businesswoman but was, in fact, jobless and down on her luck.
She probably deserved it, Daisy thought.
She’d done something or pissed off someone, and that was why the woman was forced to this “awful” place.
Still, it was a difficult position to be stuck in. Wonderwood was a paradise for most people, but for Candace, it was a punishment. While everyone else was having the time of their lives, she couldn’t wait to leave.
Daisy understood the feeling.