The Christmas Crush

Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Lawrence stood at the front counter, switching a mostly empty tray of brownie cookies for a full tray of protein peanut butter cookies, fanned in two rows. Next, he checked the minifridge behind the counter, counted the eight-ounce milk cartons to be sure he had enough. In twenty minutes, chaos would strike when the after-school rush came crashing through the door. Snowy boots, hyper voices. Lines of wiggly children craving sugar, sleepy caregivers desperate for an afternoon coffee to sustain them to dinnertime.

Moms loved that Lawrence took it easy on the sugar for these cookies and added vanilla whey powder for extra protein. Kids thought they were getting a treat, and parents appreciated the healthy adjacent snack. Everyone would be in and out in about fifteen minutes, then Lawrence and Carm would spend another fifteen sweeping crumbs and wiping up milk spatters.

“Batten the hatches, Carm. T minus twenty,” he called into the kitchen. Carm dashed out, clacking her serving tongs in anticipation. Sugar whined, ready for the influx of cuddles and dropped peanut butter cookie chunks.

The jingle bells on the door chimed, and Trey walked in. “You better not buy me out of house and home before the kids get here,” Lawrence warned.

“I’m here to get my cookie before those little fiends come chomping through.”

Carm wrapped a cookie with perfect crisp edges and a soft center in wax paper. The register beeped as Lawrence rang up the cookie with his best-friend discount. Trey opened the lid of his travel mug so Lawrence could refill it with half regular, half decaf. “I didn’t think you were ever coming back from the city,” Trey said, giving Lawrence a significant look.

“Believe me, I didn’t want to. She is something else.” Lawrence leapt at every chance he got to talk about Elena. Every family member from his sister to Nana had listened to an unusually loquacious Lawrence rhapsodizing about the new woman in his life. Even his poor quiet dad—who usually had about a four-word conversation with his son once per week—had to hear Lawrence go on and on.

Talking about Elena was almost as good as being with Elena. Thinking about her rounded out the trifecta. Reading the Sparkle e-newsletter—a publication he should have scorned on principal—was an opportunity to contemplate Elena. No such thing as too much Elena, and he would take her any way he could get her.

“Not this again,” Carm said, shaking her head.

“That bad, huh?” Trey asked, holding his cookie over the wax paper as he took his first bite.

“Don’t worry about crumbs, man. You know what’s about to happen here,” Lawrence said, looking over his shoulder to confirm the push broom was within arm’s reach.

“I had to yell at him to get off his phone this morning, can you believe that, Trey?” Carm said. “Me, the employee. He was too busy texting Elena to rotate the cookies—burnt two pans full. It still smells like charred cookies back there.”

“What are you smiling for, bro?” Trey asked. “Since when do you burn cookies? What happened to our Lawrence?”

“Look at him; he’s turning red.” Carm patted Lawrence on the back. “Oh mijo. I hope she deserves you.”

“It’s me who should worry about being worthy,” Lawrence said.

“Nah, don’t say that. She’s a lucky girl,” Trey said. He balled the wax paper, made a perfect shot to land it in the trash can. Lawrence cheered, but Trey didn’t play along. “Never thought I’d live to see the day you’d be slacking off at work.”

“Hey, I’m only human.” Lawrence gave a casual shrug, or what he hoped was casual. He hadn’t texted Elena in over an hour, although he kept his phone in his pocket, dying for an alert. Under normal circumstances, he never brought his phone into the front of the house. Customer service standards were slipping, and he didn’t care.

“And what’s the deal with her job? You were pretty worried about that. Getting into a public fight and whatnot.”

“We’ve got that all worked out.” Lawrence’s face hurt from smiling.

“Don’t get me started on this one,” Carm said, shaking her head again. She took off her glasses, polished the lens on her shirt. “I already gave you my opinion on this little scheme you two have cooked up.”

“What scheme?” Trey asked.

“Elena convinced—” Carm began.

“No, we decided,” Lawrence interrupted, “since she needs stellar grand-opening sales to keep her job, that I should try to help. Put out the word that people should give Sparkle a try. By the way, do me a favor: take Iris to the grand opening. And your parents. Tell Iris to bring her sister.”

Trey snapped his fingers in front of Lawrence’s face. “Hello? What? Have you lost your whole mind?”

“It’s one day of sales,” Lawrence argued. “And she’s been helping me with a side project.”

“I bet she has.” Trey’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What is going to happen when she needs more support that only you can give, at the expense of this place?” Carm asked, tapping her foot, looking ready to shake a finger at him like he was a naughty child.

“It’s not going to happen. We have an agreement.”

“You trust her that much, huh?” Trey asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“She hasn’t done anything to make me not trust her.”

“Mijo, you don’t know her well enough.” Carm threw up her hands.

“Yeah, dude. She needs to understand this place comes first, at least for now. Until you guys have been together longer.”

“Her grand opening is an urgent situation.” Lawrence couldn’t stomach arguments; they required him to think of fast responses, stand his ground, contradict people he cared for. Nine times out of ten, he chose to avoid conflict, stuff his feelings. Heat flushed over his skin; his teeth clenched. For once, he didn’t want to put the bakery first, not at the expense of Elena; he didn’t want to spend another Christmas alone. Even with his family around him, he felt the lack of a person just for him. It was easy for Trey to be cautious—he had Iris to kiss him on New Year’s Eve. Last year Lawrence had stood in the pub, timing a swig of his beer with midnight to avoid watching all his friends make out.

“This damsel-in-distress thing—”

“That’s not what it is,” Lawrence growled. Trey snapped his mouth shut, his eyes widened.

“Take it easy,” Trey said, palms out toward Lawrence. “I get it. You’re sure about this.”

“I am.” He rocked on his heels, debated storming off to the kitchen.

Trey and Carm shared a look Lawrence pretended not to see. Carm put a hand on his arm. “As long as you’re sure, that’s all we need to know. Okay, boss?”

“Absolutely, dude.” Trey held out his fist for Lawrence to bump. “We cool?”

“Yeah,” Lawrence said, tapping his friend’s knuckles with his own, already regretting snapping at his friend.

“When do I get to meet her?” Trey asked.

Lawrence huffed out a long breath. “She’s coming by tonight.”

“Why don’t you bring her by the pub for a drink after dinner? Iris and I can meet up, get to know her. She sounds very special.”

“She is.” Lawrence nodded, thinking of Elena’s dark eyes, how they looked up at him through her long lashes. Trey told him to text when they were headed over, and he left as a stream of children dragging overstuffed backpacks and parents holding bundled babies began pouring in.

Lawrence did his utmost to concentrate on the chattering children, loud as a flock of geese as they hemmed and hawed over their orders. He and Carm danced around each other, wrapping cookies, taking payments, filling paper cups with coffee. Smiling at the kids, commiserating with the tired parents. Carm asking how much longer until winter break dozens of times, the keyed-up kids hopping around as if it were already the last day of school.

“I swear that school is cloning children,” Carm said, wiping her brow on her apron when the rush ended. Sugar lay on her back, all four legs in the air, too overwhelmed to right herself after the parade of tummy rubs. “There had to be at least thirty more than yesterday. And those middle schoolers can eat! Why don’t you let me take care of this mess, though? I’m sure you have stuff to do in the back.”

Lawrence shouldered through the swinging door with a stack of empty trays in hand, grateful Carm had given him a reason to be alone. He replayed the interaction with Carm and his best friend over and over in his head. Plunging a dishrag into a bucket of sanitizer, he began scrubbing the workbench with all his strength.

When was the last time he and Trey had a disagreement? High school? There had been some beef in junior year after they both got in major trouble for hosting a party in Lawrence’s parents’ home while they were out of town. Neither wanted to take responsibility, and they were mad at each other for several days. Then they forgot about it and hadn’t had an argument since.

The whole world felt off-kilter. Kitchen lights too bright, industrial dishwasher too loud, the accompanying detergent-scented steam unbearably hot. Good thing Trey had backed off, because Lawrence felt he’d been on the verge of a shouting match. Feelings that intense left him frazzled, anxious about the near future. Maybe Trey would still be mad at him later tonight, maybe Lawrence would still be mad at Trey; maybe things would never be right again.

He went into the office, sat, then laid his head on the desk. Outside, Main Street remained busy with after-school traffic. He struggled to slow his breath. Nothing felt right, his body and mind in turmoil, a headache trying to get a foothold in his temples.