Second-Chance Sweet Shop

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“Are you sure you’re up to it, Mama?”

Charlotte smiled. “Of course I’m sure. I don’t need you working yourself down to the bone where you won’t have enough strength to bake or even run a business. You’ve just begun putting on weight and I don’t want folks saying that my baby girl looks like a scarecrow.”

Sasha rolled her eyes upward. “Thanks, Mama.” Pushing back her chair, she stood up. “I think I’m going to take a shower, because once I get into the tub, I won’t be able to get out.”

“Do you want me to come up and check on you?”

“Nah. I’m good.” Rounding the table, she leaned down and kissed Charlotte’s cheek. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”

“I’m going to put some away for tomorrow’s lunch.”

Turning on her heel, Sasha walked out of the kitchen, through the dining room and up the staircase to the second story. Charlotte had become a lifesaver and her lifeline. She had become her unofficial sous chef; she brought her lunch so she wouldn’t have to leave the shop for a meal; and she’d been there for her to greet town officials and the walk-ins.

Sasha didn’t know what she would’ve done if she hadn’t had her mother. She entered her bedroom, stripped off her clothes and walked naked into the bathroom across the hall. She managed to brush her teeth and shower in under fifteen minutes. Within seconds of her head touching the pillow, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Chapter Three (#u3cd05829-6e89-5cc2-8519-4b3ea37ccf47)

Sasha woke early and was in the shop before five. She’d put up enough dough for marble rye, multigrain and several loaves of pain de campagne—a French country-style bread with a sourdough starter. She had also sent an email to the local church’s outreach director that she had planned to donate any leftover baked goods for their soup-kitchen lunch program. There were several families in towns that had fallen on hard times and had to depend on the generosity of others to keep from going hungry.

Charlotte arrived twenty minutes before seven and checked the contents of the refrigerator showcase. She walked to the entrance of the kitchen. “Is the day’s special ready for me to put in the showcase?”

Sasha’s head popped up. “They’re cooling now.” She knew the red velvet cheesecake brownies would become a customer favorite because of the popularity of red velvet cake and brownies. And she hoped pairing them with cheesecake would take anyone that ate it by complete surprise.

She glanced up at the wall clock and realized she had less than forty minutes to make a dozen blueberry and oatmeal raisin muffins. It took muffins about fifteen to twenty minutes to bake and about five to cool. Sasha wanted to wait until she was certain she would have steady customers before she advertised for an assistant to help her in the kitchen. Creating specialty cakes required only one person, but it was not the same when she wanted to bake breads, pies and tortes. Sasha carefully placed slices of the cheesecake into a box and set it on a shelf in the refrigerator for Kiera, before putting the rest on a large baking sheet covered with paper doilies. She had cut small pieces as samples before she slid the sheet into the showcase.

Charlotte clasped her hands together. “That looks delicious.”

Reaching for a toothpick, Sasha speared a sample and handed it to her mother. “Tell me what you think.”

Shaking her head, while chewing and rolling her eyes upward, Charlotte moaned in satisfaction. “That’s incredible. The raspberry drizzle really offsets the sourness of the cream cheese. This is a real winner. And I’m willing to bet folks will ask for it again and again.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

“It’s almost seven, so do you want me to raise the shades?” Charlotte asked.

“Yes. I’m going to bring out the muffins.” While her mother manned the front, Sasha planned to bake small batches of Madeleine cookies, snickerdoodles, ginger, chocolate chip, sugar and cinnamon hazelnut biscotti. If or when they sold out, then she would know whether to increase the quantity or eliminate them from her list.

The morning passed quickly, and the chiming of the bell indicated a steady stream of customers. A few times Sasha had to come from the kitchen to assist Charlotte. She wore disposable clear plastic gloves when selecting the baked goods, and then removed them when handling money or credit cards. The transfer was rote for Charlotte, who’d spent thirty years working in food service. They both wore bouffant caps to prevent hair falling into the food.

Kiera arrived fifteen minutes early. Punctuality was a good sign for Sasha that she could depend on Kiera. “Come with me in the back and I’ll show you where you can put your things.” Kiera followed her to the kitchen, where she hung up her jacket. Sasha pointed to the teenage girl’s three-inch booties. “Do you think you’ll be able to stand comfortably in those, because you’re going to be on your feet the whole time.”

Kiera looked down at her shoes. “I can walk around in these all day.”

Sasha wanted to tell her there were times during her school day when she was seated but decided to hold her tongue. And it was apparent Kiera was very confident with the heels that put her close to the five-ten mark. Sasha was five-nine in bare feet, and whenever she wore a pair of four-inch stilettos she towered over her ex—which was a bone of contention between them when she refused to attend a formal affair in ballet-type flats.

Sasha pointed to one of the three sinks she’d had the contractor install. “You can wash your hands over there. I’m going to give you something to cover your hair because we don’t want our customers complaining of finding hair in their food. After that my mother will show you what to do.”

She discovered Kiera was a quick study. Charlotte had stayed an extra hour to show the teenager how to man the front of the shop, and by the five o’clock hour Sasha had joined her taking and ringing up orders.

Kiera’s dark eyes sparkled with excitement. “I can’t believe you almost sold out everything.”

“It was a good day,” Sasha said in agreement. And that meant she had to come in even earlier the following morning.

“What do you plan to make tomorrow?”

“Cupcakes and mini pies.”

“What about bread?” Kiera asked. “Because there’s none left.”

“I plan to always have fresh bread.” And she knew she had to increase the quantity because she wanted to donate it to the church’s soup kitchen. “It’s time for you to leave. How are you getting home?”

“Daddy’s going to pick me up. He doesn’t see patients on Wednesdays.”

Sasha nodded and remembered Dwight talked about Wednesday being golf day for doctors. “Why don’t you go into the back and get your things? And don’t forget to take the box with your name on it from the fridge.”

The words were barely off her tongue when Dwight walked in. Her heart rate kicked into a higher gear as she stared at him. Today he was casually dressed in a pair of jeans, a gray sweatshirt stamped with the US Army insignia and Dr. Martens. He’d covered his head with a well-worn black baseball cap.

There was something intangible about the single dad that pulled her in and refused to let her go when it hadn’t been that way with other men, and that included Grant. Her ex had worked overtime to get her to go out with him, and at the time it fed her ego to have a man chase her. Dwight wasn’t chasing her, didn’t even appear to be interested in her, so she couldn’t understand her reaction to him.

“How was her first day?” Dwight asked.

Resting her arms on the top of the showcase, Sasha smiled. “She’s a pro.”

“So, you’re going to keep her?” he teased.

“I’ll fight anyone trying to lure her away.”

Throwing back his head, Dwight laughed. “That’s serious.”

“She’s in the back getting her things.” Sasha sobered. “You’re very lucky, Dwight. Your daughter is a natural when it comes to interacting with the public.”

“I must admit she had some experience last summer when she filled in for my receptionist.”

“Do you expect her to work for you this summer?” Sasha was hard-pressed to keep the panic out of her voice.

Dwight shook his head. “No. If anything unforeseen comes up and my mother isn’t busy, then she’ll fill in.”

Sasha rested a hand on her chest over her tunic. “Thank you.”

Dwight gave Sasha a lingering stare, wondering what was different about her other than the hair bonnet. Suddenly it dawned on him that she wasn’t wearing any makeup, unlike the day before, which had artfully concealed a sprinkling of freckles over her nose and cheeks. Her fresh-scrubbed face made her appear natural and wholesome.

Kiera emerged from the back of the shop, smiling and holding a red-and-white-striped box stamped with the shop’s logo. “Daddy, I’m glad Miss Sasha saved some red velvet cheesecake brownies for us, because they were all sold out.”

Dwight inclined his head. “I thank you, Miss Sasha, for you being generous and thoughtful.”

Sasha, blushing, waved a hand. “There’s no need to thank me. I should be the one thanking you for allowing Kiera to work here.”

He noticed Kiera lowering her eyes, and it was apparent Sasha had embarrassed her. Even though he hadn’t spent as much time with his daughter as he’d wanted, Dwight had come to recognize a certain shyness in her. He’d noticed boys her age staring at her while she pretended not to notice them. Maybe he was biased but there was no doubt she would become a beautiful woman like her mother. And it had been Adrienne’s beauty and outgoing personality he hadn’t been able to resist. They’d begun dating in high school and married within days of their respective college graduations.

“Daddy, I need to get home and do homework,” Kiera said softly. Her head popped up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Sasha. And thank you for the brownies.”

“Tomorrow it is.”

Dwight winked at Sasha and dropped his arm over Kiera’s shoulders. He’d picked her up from school after her last class and drove her downtown. His mother had prepared a lunch for her granddaughter to eat before she began working. Victoria Adams had declared there was no way she was going to permit her grandbaby girl to miss a meal because of a job. She’d promised to pick her up from school on the days Dwight couldn’t.

He knew his mother was overjoyed having her granddaughter close to her every day instead of a month during the summer, and occasionally when she’d accompanied him during his trips to New York. Dwight was more than aware that his mother had never approved of his marrying Adrienne, and although her daughter-in-law had made her a grandmother, even today Victoria’s impression of Kiera’s mother hadn’t changed.

Dwight pressed the remote device to the Jeep and opened the passenger-side door for Kiera. He rounded the vehicle and slipped behind the wheel. “How was your first day?”

Kiera ran a hand over her braided hair. “It was good except my feet hurt from standing up so much.”

He glanced down at her shoes. He could not understand why his daughter insisted on wearing high heels, and when he’d questioned her, she claimed she liked standing out from among the shorter girls who’d treated her as if she was carrying a communicable disease.

That was the first time Dwight realized his daughter was regarded as an outsider in a school system where most of the kids had grown up together. Not only had Kiera acquired the sophistication of someone who’d grown up in a cosmopolitan city like New York City, but she’d also favored the ubiquitous black worn by many New Yorkers. She must have confided this to her grandmother when Dwight overheard his mother telling Kiera, “Don’t concern yourself about those jealous little snits, because they know you’re better born and better raised.”

He had his mother to thank for telling Kiera what was so obvious, because it would not have come out like that if he’d had to say it. There were a few occasions when he’d waited to pick Kiera up from school and he’d noticed several boys staring at her. This had obviously annoyed some of the girls with them, and when he’d mentioned this to Kiera, she stated the girls did not have to worry about her coming on to their boyfriends because all of them were stupid. Dwight agreed that some teenage boys were stupid, but there would come a time when they became mature young men. However, his daughter was having none of his talk about boys and so he dropped the subject.

“Maybe you should bring a pair of tennis shoes with you that you can change into before you start working.”

Kiera nodded. “I’m definitely going to do that.”

Dwight drove out of the parking lot and came to a complete stop at the railroad crossing as the gates came down. The sound of ringing bells and flashing red lights indicated an oncoming train. “How was school today?”

Kiera shifted on her seat. “Daddy, remember you asked me that when you picked me up?”

He smiled. “My bad. I forgot about that. Your old man must be getting senile.”

“You’re not old and you’re a long way from being senile. Maybe you need to take up a hobby.”

“I have a hobby.”

“What’s that?”

“You, baby girl, and fishing.” He’d become quite an adept at fly-fishing.

Kiera laughed. “I can’t be your hobby.” She sobered. “Have you thought about getting a girlfriend? Mom’s married, so what’s stopping you from marrying again?”

A frown found its way over Dwight’s features. “I don’t have time for a girlfriend. Maybe after you go off to college I’ll consider dating again.”

“But that’s not for more than a year, and you’ll be too old to hit the clubs looking for a girlfriend.”

His frown grew deeper. “What do you know about trolling clubs looking for dates?”

“I heard Mom say that you look for women in clubs.”

Dwight felt a surge of rage he found hard to control and counted slowly until he once again felt in control. Adrienne had a tongue that was lethal as cyanide and sharp as a samurai sword. He had dated a few women since his divorce, and fortunately, he hadn’t had to resort to going to clubs to pick them up.

He chose his words carefully, because the last thing Dwight wanted was to belittle Kiera’s mother. It was enough that she didn’t get along with her stepfather. “Your mother is wrong.”

“Then why would she say that, Daddy?”

He forced a smile. “I don’t know.”

Kiera met his eyes. “Don’t you want a girlfriend?”

Kiera was asking him questions he’d asked himself over and over since his divorce, and he knew if he hadn’t a daughter he would’ve considered marrying again. There was one woman who lived in the state’s capital that he’d dated off and on for nearly a year. She’d accused him of talking incessantly about his daughter and decided to end their liaison because she wasn’t able to compete with her for his attention. One thing Dwight had promised himself was that he wasn’t going to hide the fact that he was a single father and his daughter came first in his life.

“It’s not that I don’t want a girlfriend. It’s just that I haven’t met someone I want to spend time with.”

“Does she have to be pretty?”

Dwight shook his head. “No, Kiera, looks are nice, but they’re not everything. I’d like her to be well-rounded so we could have intelligent conversations. And it would help if we both like the same things.”

“Are you saying she would have to be a dentist, too?”

“Oh, no,” he drawled. “That definitely would be a deal breaker. I don’t want someone where we’d spend all of our time talking about deciduous, cementum and molars.” The last car on the train passed and the gates lifted, and Dwight drove over the tracks.

“What made you fall in love with Mom and marry her?”

Frowning through the windshield, he held the wheel in a death-like grip. “What’s with the twenty questions, Kiera? Have you been talking to your mother and she’s been interrogating you about me?”

Kiera stared straight ahead. She was so still she could’ve been carved out of stone. “The last time I spoke to her she did ask me if you had a girlfriend.”

A muscle twitched in Dwight’s jaw as he clenched his teeth. “The next time you talk to your mother and she asks about me, I want you to say, ‘No comment.’”

“You know how Mom is. Grammie says she’s like a dog with a bone.”

“Well, this big dog isn’t having it. I meant what I said about feeding her information about me.”

He wanted to tell Kiera that if her mother was so interested in his love life, then she should’ve never divorced him. After all, she had moved on with a new husband in a new city and loved her work, and from what he could see, she was having the time of her life.

“I know she’s going to get mad at me if I say that to her.”

“Let me handle your mother, Kiera. We’re both adults and I can say things to her you can’t or shouldn’t. Your mother legally handed over custody of you to me, so that means I’m totally responsible for you until you’re twenty-one.”

Kiera rested her left hand over his right on the steering wheel. “I’m glad I’m living with you. Thank you, Daddy.”

He smiled. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

He would never forget the sound of his daughter’s sobbing when she called to tell him her mother had made plans to send her to a Connecticut boarding school because Kiera had talked back to her stepfather. The tables were reversed because Adrienne’s husband had issued his own ultimatum: him or his stepdaughter.