Second-Chance Sweet Shop

“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.