Page 7

Alora

Stepping outside, I looked up at the overcast sky. It felt like rain, and I made a mental note to stop at the dollar store to grab an umbrella since the last storm we had turned my old one inside out, or was that outside in? Either way, it had been completely ruined.

“You’re looking more like your old self today,” Rex commented. He saw me have a complete breakdown when I got to the shelter after leaving my mother’s house. I still had no idea what I thought I was going to accomplish. Maybe a tiny part of me still held out hope that she could love me again or at least show me forgiveness. That had been an epic failure.

He took the final draw on the cigarette he was smoking before crushing the butt under his foot.

“I went to a meeting,” I said as an explanation.

He nodded, knowing what I meant. Rex had an issue with painkillers and had been to a few meetings of his own. Although, if you asked me, he needed them. The limp he had was caused by a piece of shrapnel the surgeons hadn’t gotten out of his leg at the time of his injury. Now, the money needed to remove it from where it had been embedded cost as much as a house. Rex had just laughed at the doctor and walked out. That was before my release, and he was still hobbling around with the metal, stabbing him every step.

“What’s up with the new duds.” He waved his finger at the black and tan uniform.

“I had to get another job to supplement the hours that Miss Harper cut. It took me two days, but the bakery where my sister worked hired me. I start in an hour, so I better get going.”

“Hope it goes well,” Rex said, giving me a small smile, but I narrowed my eyes at him.

“What are you not saying that you want to say?”

He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Just wondering when you’re going to start living again?”

I looked away from Rex. “We’ve been over this. I’m going to buy a house, and then I will see what’s next.”

“Bullshit, you’ll buy a house, and then you’ll still be working the same dead-end jobs, barely able to keep up with the bills. Alora, you’re smart, don’t let the past continue to drag you down.”

Before I could argue, he walked into the homeless shelter and left me standing outside alone. He poked at me every so often, and it had the same effect as ripping a scab off a wound. I didn’t deserve to go to school or have a great career, get married, or anything else when my sister didn’t. Rex didn’t understand that, but when I looked forward, all I saw was my past.

A cool breeze lifted the hair on the back of my neck, and I shivered as it slid over my skin like a finger from the dead. My mother was right. I should be in hell.

Hooking my thumbs into the straps of my backpack, I headed off to my new job. I was actually looking forward to working with Mr. Molisano. He’d always been kind to my sister and didn’t judge me like everyone else did from my past. I always liked it when Miss Harper let me help with the baking. In a small way, it helped me feel connected to my sister again. Arriving at the bakery, I looked up at the sign for Molisano’s Artesian. The bakery had been here since before I was born and not only sold local favorites but was known for its pastries and uniquely flavored cupcakes and cakes. A thick book sat on the counter with countless custom orders, and pictures of wedding cakes were proudly hung on the walls.

The little bell over the door jingled as I walked inside, and the sweet scent of baking instantly wrapped me up in warmth. Chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla, and citrus all hung in the air. I would die happy if they just propped me up in the corner and let me stay there forever. The smell was comforting, like a hot drink on a cold day with a fire burning and a book to read.

“You’re early,” Mr. Molisano said as he stepped out of the kitchen.

“Yeah, I didn’t know if the door would be open, but I thought I could get acquainted with my surroundings. I like to know where everything is located.” I stepped up to the glass counter. He leaned on the top, his tall frame slightly more slouched than eight years ago, but he was still a handsome, imposing man with a gentle smile.

“I love the work ethic. Come on back, and I’ll show you where you can put your stuff. Do you know how to use the espresso machine?”

“I know how to use the one at Harper’s Diner, but this one looks a lot fancier,” I said, glancing at the bright red machine that I was positive could transform and fly away.

Mr. Molisano laughed, the sound as large and warm as the rest of his personality. “I’ll give you a crash course, but I have a feeling you’ll catch on quickly. I remember Evie had the same intelligence and tenacity.”

“Yeah, she really did.” I bit my lip to keep from showing how much his mentioning her hurt when I knew he didn’t mean to do that.

“You can put your stuff here if you’d like. Those three lockers are not in use.” He pointed to the wall of lockers and the three standing open.

I pulled the backpack with all of my earthly belongings in it off of my shoulders and hung it up in the last locker before shrugging out of my black sweater. “Mr. Molisano, do you know where to go and what classes I’d need to take to bake professionally?”

“Sure, I can give you some names. Is becoming a chef something you really want to do?”

I smoothed out the front of my uniform shirt and shrugged. “I really enjoy creating and turning a few simple ingredients into something that people love. To be honest, I don’t know if my interest is because it was my sister’s love or if it has become mine.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe it’s a bit of both. People are drawn to the kitchen for many reasons, and most of the time, it’s nostalgia that originally drives us. There is nothing wrong with that. Just remember that each time you make something, and I don’t care if it’s a beignet or a wedding cake, you give it your love and attention. If you do, you will not only be proud of what you made, but people will flock from all around to feel that emotion in your food.” He smiled wide, and a flicker of real hope lit inside of me for the first time in so long that I’d forgotten what it was like to want anything. “Come on, we’ll start with the espresso machine, but I’m happy to teach you as much as I can, and if you find yourself falling in love with baking, then I’ll give you a recommendation and all your hours needed to get into culinary school.”

I quickly wiped away the tear that slipped from my eye before Mr. Molisano saw it.

“Thank you. I really appreciate that.”

It was so dangerous to hope. I still didn’t think I deserved it, but Rex was right about one thing. I needed to have a plan past my next meal, or I would die on the streets. I didn’t want to become another statistic.

You’d think working in a diner for three years would’ve prepared me for the chaos that was Molisano’s, but that was a joke. It was ten times the pace, and so much to learn that I thought my poor brain was going to short-circuit after my feet fell off. Every part of my body was hurting as I put on my sweater. I looked down at my tattered sneakers. It was time to break down and spend some of the money I had saved.

Stepping out into the front where Mr. Molisano was finishing up, I waved. “Bye, Mr. Molisano. Thanks again for giving me a shot.”

“You did great work today. I’m happy to have you. See you tomorrow,” he said and then continued humming along to the song on the radio.

It was dusk when I stepped outside, and the bars were already in full swing. There was a line on the sidewalk for a couple of them, and even though it was a terrible idea, I wandered along, taking in the sights and sounds. Nothing made you feel more unconnected and out of touch with life than when you watched other people partying and having fun. I’d forgotten what it was even like to smile or laugh with abandon.

I squeezed my hand into a fist as the urge to join them rose inside of me. The clink of glasses was loud as I walked by the open doors. Nearing the next bar, I stared at the long line and the massive bouncers who stood outside like two pillars. What made this one so special? Stopping at the large window, I peered inside. The building was set up as two separate places that happened to inhabit the same location. The front half had a relaxed feel with tables and finger foods, while the back by the dance floor was darker with dancers on poles. They weren’t naked or anything, but the crowd watching them dance and enjoying themselves were certainly oozing sex appeal.

I sucked in a gasp as one of the two bartenders turned around with four beers in his hand and sat them down in front of a group of guys. He smiled, and my heart jumped, recognizing him immediately. He shook his hips and pointed at a group of girls. They clapped and laughed, and I couldn’t help but stare. He was way too good-looking for his own good. He was like sweet chocolate and rich bourbon-coated sin. The guy impressively twirled two bottles before pouring shots and then set them down and smiled as he took the money off the bar. There was something about the way he smiled that felt fake. It didn’t seem like anyone else noticed it, but I saw it on the sidewalk the other day, and I could see it now. He was far more dangerous than he tried to let on. The question was, how dangerous was he?

Just then, he looked up, and his smile faded as we locked eyes. It might have only been for a few beats of my heart, but it felt like forever as we stared at one another.

“Shit.” I wheeled out of view, my heart pounding out of control. An incredible compulsion to run surged through me, and clutching my backpack straps, I got my legs in gear and took off down the sidewalk until I couldn’t breathe anymore. My eyes darted around as I neared the cemetery before slipping through the tall, open gates.

Looking over my shoulder, I relaxed when I didn’t see him. It was crazy to think that he followed me. It wasn’t like he was going to run out of his job and chase me all this way because I wouldn’t let him buy me a coffee. But I couldn’t stop checking my surroundings just in case he popped out of a bush or stepped out from behind a tree. Great, this meant he worked a five-minute walk away from my new job. I didn’t like that one bit. Chewing my lip, I contemplated quitting and finding a new one, but the thought of leaving Molisano’s already hurt my heart.

No, I wouldn’t let some unknown guy chase me off of the one thing that had finally sparked joy in my soul. I’d avoided worse people than him.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I allowed the quiet to fill me and calm my mind and nerves. I passed the mausoleum that looked like a miniature church with a skull on the door and then arrived at my sister’s and squatted down. Opening my pack, I pulled out Evie’s favorite puff pastry and laid it down in front of her tomb.

“I brought you this. You won’t believe where I got a job. You were right. Mr. Molisano is amazing to work for. I just wish you’d had more time to train with him. I could see you opening a bakery and giving all of the French Quarter a run for their money. Hell, I might’ve ended up working for you.” My smile faltered, and I closed my eyes, laying my hand on the cold stone as I pictured lying on her shoulder. “I went to see Mom. That was a big mistake. She hates me, Evie, like never forgive me kind of hate. I shouldn’t be surprised, but…it hurts.” Sniffling, I blinked back the emotion that was once more threatening to take over and peered down at the cheap watch on my wrist. “I’ll be back. I need to catch a meeting. Almost slipping the other night scared me. I don’t want that to happen. I’m trying really hard, but some days feel impossible. I love you, and I miss you so much. See you soon.”

Standing, I picked up the chip I’d left last time and rubbed my thumb over it before slipping it into my pocket. “I’m going to bring you the next chip. That’s a promise.”

Kissing my hand and laying it over Evie’s name, I walked away, feeling like I was once more leaving a piece of me behind. One day, it would get easier. It had to.