Second Chances in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #3)

9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

T he following morning, Angie was eager to return to work. Other than some soreness at the incision site, she felt good. After spending the day with Debbie at her house with her menagerie of pets and watching old black-and-white movies, she’d had a good night’s sleep.

As she approached the rear of the building, her gaze bounced around, searching for the cat. Eventually, she spotted him curled up behind the dumpster. “Hello?” she called softly. At the sound of her voice, the cat lifted his head and looked over his shoulder at her, then emerged from his sleeping spot, stretching his front legs and then his back ones.

“Oh goodness, someone is tired today,” Angie said. “Busy night?”

She went inside, scooped some kibble into his dish, and set it out back. The cat ran toward it. Folding her arms across her chest, she said, “I suppose we’ll have to give you a name.”

Satisfied that he was fed, she slipped back inside and went about the business of running her café. It would have been too easy to let Melissa deal with everything. But she hadn’t been in yesterday, and she couldn’t pass off her duties to other people. Not two days in a row. Deciding she needed a strong cup of coffee, she headed to the kitchen, where Melissa had finished the morning baking and Angie’s two oldest employees, Joel and Iris, were getting ready for opening.

Joel had retired from an administrative job two years ago at the age of sixty-two, only to find out he was bored at home and his wife didn’t want him there. He was efficient and a good worker and had a penchant for plaid shirts and bow ties.

Like Melissa, Iris Hunnicutt had worked at the café since the beginning. She’d taken the job to supplement her social security. Her permed hair was steel gray in color, and she wore thick-framed eyeglasses.

“Good morning, everyone,” Angie said brightly.

They all looked up at her.

“Enjoy your day off, boss?” Joel asked. She wished he wouldn’t call her that. He was old enough to be her father. In the beginning, she’d reminded him several times, but gave up after a while.

“Actually, I did,” she said honestly. She turned to Melissa. “How was everything here yesterday?”

Melissa hesitated. “It was fine.”

“But?” When Melissa didn’t say anything and shot a look at Iris, Angie looked over to Iris and said, “But what?”

“Edna Knickerbocker and Edith Bermingham were in the café at the same time.”

Angie closed her eyes and groaned. That was a recipe for disaster. The two sisters hadn’t spoken in decades. There had been close calls in the past, when one was going into the café and the other was coming out.

“Was it ugly?” she asked.

Melissa winced.

“That bad?”

“All we needed was a boxing ring and a referee,” Joel said, trying to inject some humor into the situation.

“There were some harsh words traded loudly,” Iris explained. “But Melissa came to the rescue and told them if there was any fighting, they’d be banned from the café.”

Angie looked at Melissa, whose cheeks pinkened. “I didn’t want it to escalate,” Melissa said. “And it worked. They settled down.”

“Sounds like a good decision,” Angie said. There couldn’t be fighting in the café. It was unacceptable; she didn’t care that the two women were in their eighties. “We’re all set for today?”

They all nodded.

“Good, I’ll go open the front doors. Sandwich board ready?” she asked.

Iris nodded. She had the best handwriting of all of them, and she liked to do the boards on her shifts using all the different colors of chalk.

Angie headed out to the main part of the café, where she slipped behind the counter and made herself a double-shot Americano. She skipped the sugar and the cream, needing the perk-up. After she took a couple of tentative sips, she set it down on the counter and went to unlock the front door. Already, a couple waited outside for the café to open. They were regulars, a retired couple who walked the beach in the early morning and ended up at Coffee Girl for breakfast.

“Good morning!” she said with a smile.

“Hey, Angie, we missed you yesterday,” said the husband.

“I took the day off.”

The couple exchanged a glance.

“It’s a miracle!” the wife declared, laughing.

“Come on in for your breakfast,” Angie said, holding the door open for them.

Once they were inside, she pulled the sandwich board out front. The air was sharp with damp and the sky began to lighten. Across the street, Java Joe had placed his sandwich board at the curb.

Angie gave it a quick glance and her eyes widened.

Java Joe’s, the #1 café in Lavender Bay.

“We’ll see about that,” Angie said through gritted teeth. She hurried inside, grabbed a piece of chalk, and marched across the street. Quickly, she rewrote part of the sign. She stood back, looked at it, and nodded in satisfaction. Java Joe’s, the #2 café in Lavender Bay . She glanced toward the windows, wondering if anyone had spied her.

Smirking, she returned to the number one café in Lavender Bay.

The following day, she sat down in her office with Melissa as soon as there was a lull in the lunch crowd.

The other woman took the chair across from Angie’s desk. Angie leaned back and said, “Melissa, I’ve given a lot of thought to what we talked about last week.” That was only partially true. She hadn’t thought about it until the previous night, when she couldn’t sleep despite being tired. And she hoped she’d come up with a solution.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Melissa said.

“First, why don’t you tell me some of your ideas regarding baked goods,” Angie prompted. She leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands over her abdomen. Her stomach felt queasy, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the biopsy or the fact that she might be ceding some control of her business.

Melissa appeared to be caught off guard. “I’ve got a ton of them.”

Okay, not too many. Stay in your lane , Angie thought.

For the next forty-five minutes, Melissa laid out her ideas, mentioning items Angie had never thought of and some she’d never even heard of. As she spoke, her pale blue eyes were bright with excitement. Angie couldn’t help but remember how she’d been the same when she first opened the café. It would be cruel not to let Melissa explore her creative side.

Not everything she mentioned had to do with baked goods; she had other ideas for the café as well. Angie began to feel apprehensive, like her business was being taken out from under her. She forced herself to remain open-minded, but it was proving to be difficult. If Melissa implemented every one of her ideas, would it still be Coffee Girl? Would she recognize the place? The uneasiness grew, but she tamped it down.

Her family’s advice came back to her. Maybe they were right. Maybe she tried to micromanage everything too much. Maybe it was time to trust Melissa. She’d certainly been a valued employee. And hadn’t she herself needed encouragement when she’d first started out?

When Melissa finished, she smiled and said, “What do you think?”

“You’ve given me a lot to unpack,” Angie started. “And some of your ideas sound interesting.”

Melissa waited, but her smile faltered.

At that moment, a genius thought occurred to Angie, and even she became excited.

“Your list is certainly exhaustive, and I’m curious about some of these things. I’ve got a couple of ideas myself.”

Melissa leaned forward on her seat, her many earrings lining her ears in a perfect silver crescent.

“First, I’d like you to start baking some of these things,” Angie said, and then clarified, “one at a time. The staff and I will be your tasters. If it passes muster, we’ll use it as a ‘dessert of the day’ and see how the customers like it.”

Melissa nodded excitedly.

“From there, we could rotate them using some sort of roster—except for the bestsellers, like the cinnamon rolls with cream cheese frosting and the pastry hearts. Those sell out every day, so they’re permanent.”

“And what if one of my desserts becomes a bestseller?”

Angie was gracious. “Then that would become part of the permanent collection.”

“Thanks, Angie, you have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

Handing over a piece of her café didn’t feel as awful as Angie had thought it would, and she gave Melissa a genuine smile.

Melissa stood and said, “I’ll make something for you tomorrow.”

“Whenever you can. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow,” Angie said.

“I don’t mind.”

Once she left, Angie closed her eyes and sighed, glad that the conversation was behind her and that Melissa was happy with her suggestions.

By the end of the week, the weather had turned colder, and Lavender Bay experienced the year’s first snowfall: light, gentle flakes that melted as soon as they hit the ground. It was a reminder of the holidays coming up.

Thursday afternoon, Angie was in the kitchen, teaching Erica how to make the dough for the cinnamon rolls. On the other side of the room, Melissa was using a kitchen blowtorch to finish browning the tops of the mini lemon meringue pies she’d made. Angie had tasted one and begrudgingly admitted that they were very good, causing Melissa to beam with pride.

Angie’s cell phone rang, and she pulled it out of her back pocket and saw Dr. Acker’s name on her screen.

She excused herself and stepped out of the noisy kitchen into the back hall, glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot. “Hello?”

“Angie Cook?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I’m calling from Dr. Acker’s office. She’d like you to come in tomorrow morning at nine so she can discuss your biopsy results.”

Angie swallowed hard. “Sure. I’ll be there.” When she ended the call, she stared at the blank phone screen, her hands shaking.

She’d hardly be called into the doctor’s office to be told everything was fine. That kind of information was usually imparted over the phone.

This was not going to be good news.