Two

A beeping sound in the distance woke me up the next morning. After a quick stretch, I sat up and grunted as I got on my feet. The smell of dirty old socks and moss greeted me, and I snorted in disgust. It took me a moment to get my senses settled on where I was.

A few days ago, I was sleeping on my expensive bed with blue satin sheets. How easily my life changed because of one thing.

After I finished moping over my loss, I headed toward the bathroom and cleaned up. Once done, I quickly changed into fresh new clothes and paced to the kitchen with breakfast in mind. It took me a second to recall I had nothing on my fridge. I was too wrapped up with moving and settling yesterday that I forgot to buy groceries. With a disgruntled sigh, I grabbed the key to my old Ford truck and decided to head out.

I drove toward Central Avenue without a destination in mind. Satisfying my hunger was the only goal I needed to accomplish at the moment. And then, as if my prayers were answered, my eyes landed on the bakeshop I stopped by yesterday just as I had no energy left to drive further to get something to eat.

After parking by the front door, I saw a group of women, who looked to be in their sixties, march toward the entrance wearing vintage flower-patterned dresses and knitted cardigans. I hopped out of the driver's seat and walked slowly to allow the group to go ahead of me. One lady who trailed behind glanced in my direction, giving me a warm smile in greeting. I smiled back before walking toward the door.

Entering the store, the women settled themselves by the booth near the glass window. I waited a moment, allowing them to order first. As I waited, I studied the interior of the shop. There was nothing extravagant in their decoration, and it wasn’t far from what we had back home. Yet the place had a different feel to it.

The high ceiling with steel lights dangling above the wooden floor and white-bricked walls made the place look commercial. But the velvet couches and mix-matched wooden chairs turned the vibe from urban to vintage.

“Hey, there. Good morning. How may I help you?” I turned my attention back toward the register and noticed that the group had just finished giving their orders.

Once my eyes trailed toward the person behind the counter, I stopped. To describe her as the plain was unfitting. Her petite frame and calm expression could easily mistake her for being much younger than she looked. But the weary glint in her eyes told me there was more to her than just mere beauty.

“Ah… sir. Is there anything you want to order this morning?” she asked again, her eyebrows slightly creasing together in discomfort.

I composed myself, stopping my obvious ogling, and walked the small distance toward the counter. I studied the crammed counter refrigerator and didn’t expect the array of choices it held. It was filled with assorted bread and pastries that any sweet tooth could dream of, which wasn’t usually present in a local bakery.

I cleared my throat twice and turned to look at her.

“I’m not sure what to get, really. Would you like to suggest anything?” I asked.

“Are you here for breakfast or a coffee run?” she asked as politely as she could, but her voice sounded a bit stiff.

“Both, really. I forgot to get groceries yesterday,” I replied, absentmindedly adding a piece of information.

“Well, we have a breakfast set, sir. Do you prefer ham or bacon?” She bobbed her head while she spoke. I glanced toward her slim finger pressing on the register.

“That’s a personal question, but since you asked, I’m a ham person. What about you? What do you prefer?” I asked with a grin, trying to put her at ease. Since I was the source of her anxiety, I felt obligated to make her smile.

She glanced up at me in disbelief, contemplating me with uncertainty. When I didn’t drop the grin on my face, her expression softened before the corners of her lips twitched as she fought not to smile.

“Same.”

I blinked back my surprise that she replied.

Before I could smoothly come up with another unnecessary comeback, a paper rolled out from the register. She pulled it out and told me the total amount I had to pay. I took out some money from the front pocket of my jeans and counted it, putting an awkward silence between us.

The silence made me process what I did, and I was thankful that there were other customers in the place, for it lightened my discomfort. To put it plainly, I was flirting with the cashier attendant—well, trying to flirt.

Subsequently handing her the money, I kept my mouth shut as I retreated to a nearby table with the change and a number to wait on. I watched as another staff entered from a threshold that led to the back of the store. He quickly scanned the store before turning to her. He greeted her with a brief hug before facing the coffee machines lined up behind the counter. The man was a few inches taller than her with a brooding look. He had brown hair identical to hers but had a fairer skin tone.

I turned away when one of the old ladies called my attention, and my eyes and ears grew alert.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, dear. Are you the boy occupying Mrs. Wilde’s home?”

“Ah…yes, ma’am.” I stuttered in reply, my voice an octave higher from the unexpectedness.

“What is your name, dear?” Another one asked. Her smile looked more than friendly.

“It’s Kyle, ma’am.”

“You’re Luke Bailey’s relative?” A raspy female voice interjected from the direction of the register. It was the cashier girl.

I looked up and found her looking at me in astonishment. “Yes. He’s my cousin,” I replied with a weak smile.

“I didn’t know he had a cousin named Kyle.” She pointed out suspiciously while studying my face.

“You knew Luke, Lenna?” the old lady who called my attention asked her.

My ears perked up when I got her name since she hadn’t worn any nametag.

“We were schoolmates in elementary and childhood friends,” she replied kindly before turning back to me. “Where is Luke? I hadn’t heard that he came back.”

“He stopped by yesterday. As of the moment, he’s on his way back to Chicago.”

“What? I didn’t know he was here. Someone should’ve seen him….” She trailed off, sounding a bit offended, before the male staff interrupted.

“I think Ms. Carol saw him yesterday. I heard her gossiping when I dropped by to grab some food this morning.”

“That is so typical of him to not show himself.” She pouted before wiping her hand on the apron tied around her waist. “So, how is he?” She turned to me with a pleasant smile, asking like we were old friends.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s slacking off since I’ve taken leave of work.” I chuckled at a memory of my last trip aboard.

I returned a day early and found him sleeping on his desk. He wasn’t slacking off, though. He had just fallen asleep on his desk after another overnight’s work.

“You two work at the same place?” she asked in delight, her eyes gleaming in interest.

My grin stiffened as I stopped myself before I got another word out. “Ah. He’s a… He and I worked closely at the office, like partners, really,” I replied evasively.

“Oh! So what brought you here?” Curiosity was written all over her face. When she realized what she had asked, she covered her mouth in shock. “You don’t have to answer that. I’m sorry for being nosy.”

I watched her face flush a shade of red, which I didn’t know was possible on her olive skin. She elbowed her co-worker, who stood silently and didn’t give her any warning that she had crossed the line.

Biting back a smile, I cleared my throat. “It’s okay. I expected some interrogation after eating at the diner yesterday.”

The gleam in her eyes came back as she smirked. “I see you’ve already made your acquaintance with Ms. Carol.”

“I see you’re chit-chatting again, Lenna.” A bulky man sporting a black mane with grey streaks peered over the archway leading toward the back. “Who are you talking to so early in the morning?” he added as he glanced around the store.

He slightly tilted his head when his eyes met the group of ladies. However, once his eyes stopped in my direction, I watched his soft expression turn to stone.

“Sorry. I’m going to go back to work now.” Lenna quickly turned toward the coffee machine. “Oh! That man over there is Luke Bailey’s cousin. Can you believe he visited without saying hi?”

“Bailey? Mrs. Wilde’s grandson?” the man asked. His eyes darted to Lenna before looking back at me. “I didn’t know the Bailey’s had other relatives,” he stated rather than asked.

“Well, sir… I’m actually the nephew of Luke’s fa—” My voice sounded strained from the lie.

“Ronald! Where are you? I need a hand with this!” A female voice screeched from the direction of the back room, cutting me off mid-sentence.

The old man, Ronald, grumbled inaudibly under his breath before turning around to reply. “I’m here!”

For a moment, my mind couldn’t process how familiar everyone was with everyone. When Luke told me about staying in his old hometown, he warned me about people knowing everyone. At that time, I thought he was exaggerating. But seeing how the customers and the workers in the bakeshop talked like they were in a family gathering, I had to rethink Luke’s warning. If I got too close to these people, I wasn’t sure how long before anyone could point out my past and who I was.

“Here’s your ham breakfast meal.”

I looked up in time as Lenna placed a food tray on the table in front of me. Her face was close to mine. I leaned back in surprise and then hurriedly composed my expression before her eyes peered in my direction.

I’d never expected her eyes to be the same shade as almonds.

The light blush on her cheek returned as she stepped away from me with a shy smile. “Enjoy your meal. And welcome to Whitefish, Montana. I’m sure the view has taken your breath away.”

I nodded, not sure how to respond before she turned around. My eyes followed her until she stood back behind the counter.

I was so engrossed with her that I only noticed her co-worker serving other customers when I heard their soft exchange of pleasantries. Once he delivered their meals, he glared in my direction. At first, I thought the man had some obvious dislike for me, and maybe he had some sort of relationship with her. However, when I heard the shop door open as another customer came in, his glare didn’t falter.

The new customer reached the counter, and it was then that I noticed Lenna’s expression. The weary gaze she sported when she greeted me came back.

Does she always greet people with that look? Her expression held a bit of edge when the male customer approached her. She seemed guarded, her eyes studying the new customer.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was cold, not a hint of the girl who cheerfully talked with me about Luke.

“I came by to pick up some bread for breakfast. How’s the little rascal?” the man replied smugly, unaffected by her rudeness.

I could only make out what the man wore from where I sat. He had a denim jacket with a pair of leather jeans and black boots on. His dark brown hair seeped out from the gray beanie he had on.

“Don’t act as you miss him, Stephen. Gabe drove him to kindergarten this morning again. And you aren’t supposed to be here.” She kept her expression firm.

“Don’t give me that tone, Lenna! Is it a crime to come by and see you?” he quipped roughly, his voice edging into anger.

“Hey! If you want to make some scene here, Stephen, I advise you to go ahead. It would make my day seeing you getting dragged out here with a police escort,” Lenna’s co-worker interjected and stepped forward, blocking Lenna from the new guy.

“Shut up, Archie!” The guy, who Lenna named Stephen, almost growled in warning. His hand was balled into a fist.

As I watched the confrontation, the room grew quiet. The group of ladies anxiously sat while the scene unfolded. As for me, I was on the edge of my chair, waiting for the chance to grab the guy if he ever lay a hand on anyone, especially on Lenna, seeing as she was his purpose here.

“How much have you drank, Stephen?” Lenna’s voice resurfaced from the thickening tension in the room.

“Why do you always accuse me of drinking whenever I get pissed off?” Stephen retorted and slurred his words.

“Stephen, just get out. I’ll give you some bread after work. But don’t come back here, please.” Lenna sighed dejectedly, and I noticed her hand holding Archie’s arm.

“Lenna, dear. Could you help me with…” The woman entering from the backroom trailed off.

Her light brown hair was tied neatly with a chef’s cap on her head. From the white coat she wore, I guessed she was the baker.

There was a short pause at her arrival. The woman’s eyes darted in Stephen’s direction before turning and calling out to someone from the back room. Once she got a reply, her face turned deadly serious.

“Stephen. You know the rules.”

Stephen held both his hands up in surrender. “Got it, Mrs. Leighton. You didn’t have to tell me twice,” he stated, walking backward away from the counter.

After a few beats of silence, Ronald, the man from before who looked somber, stood beside the woman with a threatening look on his face. I watched Stephen stop dead in his tracks before tilting his head in greeting toward the man's direction. I glanced back at Ronald and saw no change in his expression and stance. With that, Stephen turned on his heel, and with a backhand wave, he exited the bakeshop without saying anything else.

Across the counter, I saw Lenna visibly exhale in relief before turning to Archie, who was rubbing her back in comfort.

“Is everybody here okay?” The chef, Mrs. Leighton, as Stephen called her, asked aloud. Her question was directed at everyone in the room.

“We are alright, dear. He didn’t do anything to Lenna,” one of the old ladies replied. There was a hint of fear lingering in her voice.

“I apologize for the sudden tension. I didn’t mean to ruin your morning.” Lenna’s sweet voice made my rigid body relax.

Her worried eyes darted toward mine.

“Don’t worry. I haven’t touched my food yet,” I replied lightly, giving her a small reassuring grin.

I saw a small gleam of delight in her eyes from her weary expression. Maybe Luke was wrong about living in a small town. There seemed to be a lot going on here than mere daily gossip.