Page 5 of Beautiful Mess

Plus, her daughter was rude to my kid last year, and she didn’t do anything to remedy the situation, so I just don’t like her in general.

Trash bag tied and in hand, I push the back door open using my hip, then prop it open with my foot as I toss the black bag into the dumpster that’s nearly overflowing. As soon as the bag makes it inside, something startles under the pile, and a blur of black and white jumps out. A panicked, high-pitched scream claws up my throat as I jump back, my ass slamming into the door. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest as my eyes scan the area, trying to find out what the heck that was, but I’m not quick enough. The fluffy blur races inside before I can stop it, and it’s only once it’s inside that I realize what it is.

A raccoon.

“Oh, god.” There’s a raccoon in the kitchen. “Sara Beth!” I call out as I grab the broom off the rack on the wall to my left. “Sara Beth, emergency back here!”

The little fucker is runningeverywhere. Under the tables, the cooling racks, around the industrial mixers. It’s small, doesn’t quite look like a baby, but not a fully grown one either. Can raccoons be toddlers? It’s definitely a toddler; it’s behaving like one too. While waiting for Sara Beth to get back here, I keep the door open with the rubber stopper, praying like hell that it doesn’t send out some raccoon bat signal to its buddies.

“You need to get out of here,” I whisper-yell as I chase it around the kitchen with the broom. God, he’s fast. “You cannot be in here! What if you haverabies?”

Knowing there are customers up front, I’m trying my hardest to keep my voice down, but the panic rises in my chest as the seconds drone on. This…creaturewas literally just in the dumpster, and now it’s running around my freaking bakery.

What if he runs to the front? Oh my gosh, and what if he bites one of my customers?

I could get shut down for this. I could lose my business.

Could I go to jail? Surely, if a customer gets bitten in my establishment by a dumpster living raccoon, that may or may not have rabies, I’d go to jail for that. Or prison.

Oh, fuck. I’m not cut out for prison.

I’m too soft. Too much of a people pleaser. I’d become someone’s bitch, for sure. Someone with horribly offensive and poorly executed tattoos and rotten teeth. Her name would be Donna or Hilda.

“Sara Beth!” I shriek again.

Thankfully, a moment later, she enters through the swinging door that separates the kitchen from the lobby, eyes wide as she takes in my frantic state. “Sorry, I was helping a customer. What’s up?”

“There’s a racc?—”

Before I have a chance to finish the sentence, said raccoon zips past us, Sara Beth’s gaze darting down at the mini creature.

“Oh, shit. There’s a raccoon.”

“Exactly. I need you to help me get it out of here!”

“How did it get in here in the first place?” she asks, eyebrows clear up to her hairline.

“Sara Beth!” I groan. “Help now, questions later, please!”

That kicks her into gear, but between the two of us, it still takes us close to fifteen minutes to corral the tiny little shit and swoop his butt out the back door. Sweat drips down my back by the time we’re done, and I’m not convinced my heart rate will go back to a normal level any time soon. With my back against the door, I heave out a sigh.”

“Holy shit.” Sara Beth chuckles. “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Yeah, me neither,” I murmur breathlessly. “We need to sanitize everything back here ASAP.”

“Grace, you gotta go,” she says, reminding me that I’m nowdefinitelygoing to be late to the PTA meeting.

Wonderful. This year is already off to such a good start.

“I can’t leave you with all of this by yourself.”

“I’ll text Maci. She’ll run down and help me out.” Grabbing her phone from her back pocket, she quickly types out a message. “She’s got nothing better to do tonight, butyoudo. Go.”

My shoulders slump. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Your girlfriend is going to hate me,” I half joke.

---