Page 35 of Traces Of You

“Then I make it for the day. I’m not always set on the same thing. Apple cider donuts are made daily and throughout the day. It’s a staple here.”

“I remember them from when I was a kid,” she said.

She had one after helping Brooke yesterday. A nostalgia moment she needed in her life.

“If you want to learn to bake some recipes, I don’t have a problem teaching you, but for now, I’d just love a hand dealing with the orders and the customers and I can stay back here.”

“Anything you want me to do, just tell me. I can’t thank you enough for opening your doors for me.”

“Think nothing of it. And try not to get too angry with Ford.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because he can be controlling and more so when he feels as if his hands are tied.”

“I’m trying to be as open as I can,” she said. “But it’s been a long week. Yesterday was emotional, but I feel recharged.”

“Ford stayed at Clay’s last night.”

“What?” she asked.

“You didn’t see his vehicle when you drove by this morning?”

“No.” He must have left by then.

“He’s nervous. I shouldn’t say this, but I will. When you two were kids, your move devastated him. I told him not to get too close to you.”

“I told him too.”

It wasn’t a secret that she moved around a lot.

Ford knew. She’d told him she hoped she got to stay for the year. She never talked about anything further with him.

Not the revolving door of drug-using men in her mother’s life that kept her only parent high or drunk. Drugs that mellowed her mother. Alcohol that riled her up to a mean beating machine. Some men liked that and those that did just fed her mother on, having someone give her that attention.

Had she known Ford wanted to ask her to be his girlfriend?

She had. No one wanted her for anything. Just the knowledge of that gave her a tiny nudge of confidence she never had in her life.

When Ford leaned in and kissed her just days before she moved, she clung to him, not wanting to let go. She hadn’t even told him she was leaving though she’d known for days.

That night, she’d cried herself to sleep.

Not because she was in pain from the slap her mother had given her across the face when she begged for them not to move, but for the heartbreak of losing the one person in her life she thought she could count on.

She wanted to feel as if she had that in her life again.

Even if it was only for a few days.

She wasn’t thinking much further in advance no matter how much her mind and heart wanted to push the boundaries.

“You’re back now,” Brooke said. “And we should get some work done.”

She appreciated that Brooke didn’t feel the need to talk for hours, they had too much to do. By the time she left at three, the tables were wiped down, the leftover pastries and cookies were stored for the morning, and Brooke had most of her batters prepped and ready to bake at four.

Though lunch wasn’t served, customers came in and got a treat and sat at a table with a cup of coffee.

She collected tips that went in her pocket and was mopping the floor in the front.