Brayden, Melissa - How Sweet It Is

Chapter Twenty-nine

The sun was up early and streaming through the window, but Molly let herself sleep until seven.

Louise had opened up shop on what would be Flour Child’s last day. Molly had scheduled herself for eight, knowing she’d have to stay late into the night to finish the last of the packing. She had to hand over the keys to the bank the next day.

“Are you going to be okay?” Jordan asked from the kitchen table where she nursed a cup of coffee in her jeans and T-shirt. She’d gotten up with Molly and seemed to be lingering close for moral support. It was sweet.

Molly attempted a smile, but it was weighted with sadness. “It’ll be a rough day. The roughest. But if I have you waiting for me, I’m going to get through this. I feel like I have a lot to look forward to and I have to concentrate on that.”

“You do.” Jordan held out her hand, and Molly crossed the distance between them and allowed herself to be pulled into Jordan’s lap. “So, there’s a thing.”

“A thing? You should probably elaborate.”

“George is moving to Applewood.” Molly raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “We’ll get to why later. But the point is, he’s now planning to commute to Chicago. To me. So we could work together. But if I were to move to Applewood, that wouldn’t exactly be necessary. I mean we’d still have to go into the city for meetings, and of course on location for shooting. But if our office home base was here—”

She didn’t get to finish because Molly’s lips silenced her in a celebratory kiss. “Yes,” she said to Jordan when they came up for air. “That sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard. Did you hear me say yes? ’Cause I can say it louder. Yes!” she called out loudly to the room as Jordan laughed.

“I can get an apartment or…”

Molly took the leap. “Or you could move in with me.”

A beat. “Really?” Jordan asked in a hopeful voice. She also looked especially adorable.

Molly looked down at her. “Uh-huh.. But if you’re gonna move in, there’ll have to be conditions.”

Jordan grinned. “Conditions?”

“Oh yeah,” Molly said quite seriously. “You’ll need to pull your share of the handiwork around this place.”

“Which would be?”

“Well, all of it. While wearing jeans and a tank top. That’s also a condition by the way, because there will be lots of objectification.”

“I love it when you objectify me.”

“And I’ll need to interview this cat of yours, Frankie, is it?”

“Francis Ford Coppola until you get to know him better.”

“Pretentious.”

“He totally can be, yeah.”

Molly sighed happily. “So it’s settled. You, me, a cat, and a fish in the blue house.”

“How can you beat it?”

“Who would even try?” Molly murmured as she went in for another kiss.

That’s when Jordan’s phone buzzed. She checked the readout and took the call. “Hey, Bobby. I’ll be over in just a bit.”

She stared at Molly questioningly. “Yeah, she’s right here. What’s up?” Molly watched Jordan curiously, finally tilting her head to the side in question. Jordan took her hand in reassurance and smiled. “Okay, we can leave now.”

“What?” Molly asked as she hung up. “Is everything okay?”

“I think so. But Bobby says we need to get over to Flour Child now.”

Molly’s mind raced with a million possible problems. “Is something wrong? What’s going on?”

“Let’s not wonder. Let’s go find out.” Jordan took her hand and they headed out.

*

Molly heard them before she saw them.

As they rounded the corner to Main Street, the sight before them stopped her cold. There were people, throngs of them, hundreds in fact, gathered in front of the bakeshop. Some were carrying signs depicting the Starbucks logo with a line through it. Others wore homemade T-shirts. She didn’t know what to make of it. She looked at Jordan, who shrugged in mystification.

The crowd started to cheer when they saw her. It was all very surreal. She moved among them, shocked at the sight. There was Mr. Mueller, the mailman; Deb from the diner; a whole grouping of her neighbors and former teachers. Hell, she could go on and on. It seemed like everyone was there. And that’s when she saw him.

“Daddy? You’re here too?” she said. “Do you know what’s going on?”

He smiled and put his arm around her. “Turns out these folks don’t want to see you close. In fact, they’re here to show their support and vow to keep you in business.”

“Gonna skip Starbucks from now on, Molly,” Evan Thompson, from the auto body shop called out. “I don’t care if they do have a drive-through. Your cinnamon rolls are fifty times better anyway. I’ll be here from now on each morning. Promise ya.”

“Thanks, Evan. But I don’t think that’s—”

Celia Foster pushed through the crowd. “None of us are going to that big chain store anymore. Flour Child is our bakeshop and we’d like it to stay that way. We’re not willing to give it up.”

“I’ll be in at least twice a week. Three times if I get a raise,” someone behind her called out.

Molly turned toward the voice. “That’s so nice of you to say, Mrs. Abernathy, but I’m afraid there’s not much choice. I have to close down today.”

“Actually, you don’t.” It was Felix from the bank. Molly threw a questioning look to Jordan who squeezed her hand.

“I don’t understand.”

He handed her an envelope. “The mortgage has been paid, along with the secondary loan. You’re free and clear.”

She stared at him. “This doesn’t make sense.”

“A donor came forward. Paid it all off in your name.” Felix looked to his right, and Molly followed his gaze.

There, standing at the edge of the crowd, feigning interest in the shop’s awning and pretty much ignoring everyone was Mr. Jeffries.

He scoffed, catching Molly looking at him. “What?”

“Did you pay off my mortgage, Mr. Jeffries?”

He glared back at her like she was less than bright. “Well, I couldn’t exactly have the shop close down, could I? A man’s entitled to his routine, you know.”

She didn’t know what to say. “Thank you,” was the start she went with. “I’ll pay you back just as soon as I can.” She couldn’t quite process this turn of events.

“You will not,” he grumbled. “You’ll use the cushion to get ahead and the rest of the idiots will keep you afloat. Then everyone will be happy and shut up.”

She scanned the scene, the faces of the people she loved most in the world. She turned around to face the shop. Eden stood in the doorway with her arm around Louise. Damon sat beneath them on the step.

The sight of them brought it all home.

They were wanted. The town was willing to stand up and say so. And that meant the shop was staying put. She’d get up the next morning and come in to work. And every morning after that. She’d hang the photo of herself and her dad back on the wall.

She walked to the corner of the group and threw her arms around Mr. Jeffries, who stood stock-still before softening and allowing her to hug him. “I can’t believe you did this,” she told him. “I won’t let you down.”

“Don’t go getting all mushy on me. You got a business to run, girlie. Look alive.”

She stared down at the envelope in her hands, and then looked to her father, who beamed at her proudly, his arm around Jordan. The Tuscanas stood a few feet away, holding a box of pastries purchased from inside.

They were all there.

She decided she better say something. “Thank you so much, everyone. Um…I guess as it turns out, we’re not closing down after all.” She lifted a shoulder and let it drop.