Bryony lowered her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re being so understanding about this. I was horrible to him.”
“You’ve been great for Todd, and he appreciates you. He wants to know if he still has a job.”
“Yes!” Her head flew up, and she locked eyes. “He wants to come back?”
“I told him to drive a hard bargain, to make you work hard for forgiveness. A raise might be in order.” None of that was true. He was trying to make her laugh.
Tears filled her eyes, and she looked down. “I’m sure we can arrange something.”
“Now.” Cal gave her hand a little squeeze. “Can we talk about us for a minute?
“Us?” Bryony looked up again.
“Bryony,” Cal began. “Todd didn’t steal anything, but you have.”
“I have?”
“You’ve stolen my heart, Bryony. I know you said you needed time to focus on yourself, but do you think you could let me do that with you?” He took his hand away from hers to search his pocket and pulled out the object that had been digging into his thigh for the past hour. He had found it in a dresser drawer at his father’s house last weekend. He held it out now, his high school class ring. “Will you go steady with me?”
She looked surprised, then perplexed. “What about Rachel?” she asked.
“I’m not in love with Rachel.” He could see she knew what he was saying.
Bryony took the ring and examined it. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she didn’t wipe them away. “It’s a little worn down,” she said.
“Like the man before you. Worn with history, worthy of a future, hoping you’ll let me wear on you a little longer.”
She slipped it on a finger many sizes too small. “I’ll have to get a chain for my neck.”
Cal smiled. “I’m so happy to know I’ll have a date for the prom.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Can we really go to the prom together?”
He hadn’t expected that. For a moment he saw the seventeen-year-old in her, and regret washed over him. What might have happened if they had met decades ago?
He embraced both of her hands and leaned forward. “We’ll make it the experience of a lifetime.”
SIX MONTHS LATER
Three scents would forever stay fixed in Bryony’s mind. The first, rain on warm cement. It swirled up from the sidewalk as she left her house at five-thirty a.m. on the third Saturday in June.
The second, buttery crust filled with cinnamon-spiced apples. The minute she stepped through the door of A L’il Coffee & Pie with Bry, the scent of tarts engulfed her. Todd met her at the door, his arms filled with roses.
“Aww,” Bryony said. “You didn’t have to bring flowers.”
“Sure I did,” Todd said. “Mom said roses are mandatory for every significant event.”
“Then split those up and put them into three vases because today is significant for you, too, young man. You’re a manager now!”
“The tarts come out in five!” Todd called over his shoulder as he carried the flowers to a table.
Lillian arrived five minutes later, and the three of them put the finishing touches on the expanded business. Family and a few others were invited to arrive an hour before the official grand opening. Bryony wanted everything to be perfect.
The contractors had done a tremendous job opening the common wall between the former BeanHereNow and the adjoining building. The order counter remained in its original location, and the combined business shared one expanded seating area that covered the fronts of both buildings. A commercial kitchen graced the area in back of the newer half.
Todd trimmed the roses and placed them in three vases. Lillian arranged and rearranged the Spring/Summer collection of gift mugs and coffee-making paraphernalia. Bryony put on her new apron, made from black lightweight canvas, embroidered with shades of green ivy. She pulled the tarts out of the oven, made coffee, heated tea water, and checked three times on the trays laden with mini pies and cut pieces of quiche.
Six friends had baked all day yesterday while she supervised. Leftovers would go to the residents at RestHaven. She had made sure there would be leftovers.
Lillian’s family arrived first. As soon as they settled in, the fixtures arrived.
Mr. Parker hugged Bryony around the shoulders before seating himself at his usual table and pulling out his newspaper.
Abby Dunaway carried two bags through the door, one large and one small. After depositing her jacket and her larger work-in-progress bag at her usual table, she extracted a small crocheted animal from the smaller bag and held it out for Bryony’s inspection. “I made these for the children who show up,” she said. “There’s a variety of different animals.”
Bryony turned over the three-inch-tall stuffed bear in her hands. “I love these, Abby! Would you like to sell them here?”
“I might.” Abby smiled. “Keep that one.”
Bryony hugged Abby before slipping the animal into her apron pocket.
A new pair of flowered leather boots carried in the woman who had held Bryony’s hand throughout the initial marketing campaign, and at many other steps along the way. “Are you ready to knock the socks off the world of the pie-loving public?” Etta Corning asked.
“We are,” Bryony said, and gave Etta a big hug. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Etta brushed off the appreciation and the hug, but smiled as she said, “I’m here for the free food.” She placed her backpack on one chair and sat on another.
