Page 2 of Always a Bridesmaid
Think about Maisy and cupcakes and baby cheeks.She wouldn’t even have to work on stifling her warring emotions once she got ahold of those three things.
Violet climbed out of her car and hit the auto lock button, even though Uncertainty was one of those idyllic places where the only crime was not waving.
All her belongings were inside, though, including the expensive Canon 5D Mark IV camera that’d once felt like another limb.
I’ll get there again. Maisy and I have a plan, and everything will be better if I can just make it through the last few hours of the day.
The door to the bakery chimed as she stepped inside, and Maisy was waving to a customer as she said, “Bye. Have a sweet day!”
“Violet!” Maisy shouted, loud enough that the customer jumped. Her half sister rounded the counter at a sprint, and Violet took a few large strides herself.
A moment before they met in the middle, she hesitated, a pinch dubious about going all in, since they’d never done the squealing/huge-hug combo before.
But Maisy closed the last foot of space and gave her a hug worthy of a python, squeezing Violet’s breath out over her shoulder, and it’d never felt so reassuring to be breathless.
Due to their complicated family dynamics, they hadn’t been close growing up, and the embraces they’d previously shared were quick and robotic. Their conversations had been about the same up until the past few months.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Maisy said. “Obviously the bakery is in severe need of a sprucing—not that you have to get started right away. I’ve just been waiting all day, and you’re actually here, and in case you can’t tell, I’m super excited.”
“I think the term is ‘high on sugar.’”
Maisy laughed and leaned in, as if she were about to divulge trade secrets. “I also invested in an espresso machine. After too many nights with too little sleep, it went from a want to a need.”
The chime over the door sounded, and Maisy glanced at the family of five walking in.
“Don’t mind me,” Violet said, stretching her neck from side to side to work out the kinks the long drive had left her with. “I’ll have a look around and start making plans. We’ll catch up once you close shop for the day.”
Maisy bobbed her head and hustled over to assist the family studying the glass display of treats. Her chatter filled the air, and Violet wondered just how many espressos and cupcakes Maisy had downed today. And if she would hook her up with enough sugar and caffeine to counteract the bittersweet thickness coating her throat.
Being here was…surreal.
Speaking of surreal, let’s focus on art!Violet propped her fists on her hips and studied the dingy walls of the bakery. They definitely needed freshening, and she was confident she could do better than bleak white walls and sparse, dusty decorations.
The wall underneath the front counter could use a duskier color that’d turn the glass display into more of a focal point. The wood floors were beautiful, and with a bit of buffing and perhaps a coat of varnish, they’d be perfection.
There’s a lot of potential.As she watched Maisy place her sugary works of art in a pale-pink box while beaming at her customers, it was so obvious her sister was doing what she loved. Out of nowhere, a wave of affection slammed into Violet so strongly her knees wobbled.
It was so good to see Maisy in person again.
She’d thought the phone calls would fade, especially once Isla had been born—a whole month early. New babies were time-consuming, so Violet completely understood.
But if anything, she and Maisy talked even more.
And when Violet had broken down, spilled her guts, and added how much today was going to suck, Maisy insisted she come and stay with her for a while. At least until she got her feet back under her.
“I don’t want to impose,” Violet had said. Maisy had clucked her tongue and told her that with her husband deployed, she was desperate for company. Plus, she happened to have an extra room, no charge.
Not wanting to feel like a freeloader, she’d insisted they strike a deal: Violet would renovate the bakery while she was in town.
Which, if she had it her way, would only be a month. Two, tops.
“Have a sweet day,” Maisy said, bidding farewell to the final customer. She flipped the sign on the door to closed and walked to where Violet stood, still staring at the wall.
Blank canvases used to give her happy tingly vibes. Sadly, the spark didn’t magically ignite and spread.
“So?” Maisy asked. “What do you think?”
“The place has great bones, as they say. And the flooring is amazing.” Violet stomped on it, as if that were a proper test. “Fresh paint, color accents, and well-placed artwork, and it’ll reflect how people feel when they bite into one of your delicious desserts.”
