Page 9 of Playoffs & Promises

The upstairs break room has the normal stuff, a microwave, coffee machine, fridge, and a big trash can. The countertop where the bakery box should sit is suspiciously empty. I start opening the fridge in case someone put it in there. Sam from the hockey arena staff walks into the room with a box from the bakery. I pull the box out of his hands and practically tear it open. Only instead of my lemon bar or even more muffins, the box is empty too.

I throw the box in the garbage before turning on Sam, "Did someone steal my lemon bar?"

He shakes his head. "No. The order hasn't had a lemon bar in it."

"Who's been messing up the order?" I grumble.

Sam's shoulders start to lift.

"Don't shrug," I tell him. "Someone has to be messing up the order."

He keeps his shoulders high. "The lemon bars were never part of the order."

"Of course they were," I tell him. "How else would I get it?"

"The arena has never paid for lemon bars."

"It probably was just an assorted box." It's either that or my little sister was using her own money to buy me lemon bars. Something she shouldn't have done. It was my job as her older brother to take care of her, not the other way around. I'd have to try and find a way to send her a box of her favorite muffins. Maybe if Maria knew the muffins weren't for me she'd be willing to let me buy some.

"The order form requires us to specify what we're ordering."

"Show me."

He pulls out the receipt from his pocket, and it shows each individual item purchased in the box on it.

"Who puts in the order?" I ask. Easy solution in sight. I only need them to add the lemon bar to the order to correct the lack of lemon bars.

Carrie, Sam tells me.

I don't want to see her, but left with little choice in the matter, I head to Hannah's old office. Her door is open, and she's got posters spread out all over her desk. She's sitting in Hannah's old chair, looking them over. Her once long hair has been cut short, and it's no longer the color of corn silk. Instead, she's had it bleached until it's on the verge of being white. She looks tired.

Stopping in the doorway I knock on the doorframe to announce my presence.

She looks up, and her eyes turn soft. "Lou, come in."

"This won't take long," I say, but she's already tucking the posters away so she can give me her full attention.

"I've been meaning to say hi. See how you've been." She tells me.

My throat feels tight, and I clear it. "I'm fine. Just came up to ask about adding lemon bars to the bakery order."

"Lemon bars?" She looks surprised.

"Yeah, the ones from La Petite are pretty good."

She moves the mouse for her computer and clicks on something before typing on her keyboard. Her hand goes back to her mouse and she's quiet as she looks at whatever is on her screen. I look around her office, she's decorated it with photos of her family. I recognize her parents in one frame, and her sister and brothers in another. She even has a picture of her gray and white cat in a gold frame, but my eyes stop on the eight-by-ten frame of her in a wedding dress standing next to a man in a tux. Her smile is brilliant and shining, the smile she used to give me when we were together.

The sight of it hurts and I wonder what I did so wrong in our relationship for her to end it.

"Left-Wing Lemon Bars?" She smiles. It's not the brilliant smile, but it's the one that tells me she finds it funny. "You must have made quite the impression."

I let out an awkward laugh, because that's another mystery in my life. "Maria says it's because I suck."

"Ouch." Carrie laughs.

Her laugh is just the same as I remember. Light and musical, like church bells chiming on a Sunday morning.

"What did you do?" She asks.

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