Page 6 of Home Changes
The Hollisters and the Marshalls were her backbone. The folks training at the Marshall Ranch accounted for most of her steady income. The ranch had a dining hall for them, and Allison supplied the bread, cakes, and pies. The Hollisters placed weekly orders, too, keeping their ranch hands well fed. The rest came in sporadically. Locals popping in for a muffin, a Danish, or fresh bread and soup rolls.
Her sourdough bread was a staple. People who used to buy it at the general store when she sold the bread there now strolled a little farther down the street to get it directly from her. It was a small thing,but it meant everything. She’d made something of her own. She was successful. Not rich, not by any stretch, but self-sustaining.
She made enough to pay the modest rent Mr. Hollister charged her. She covered her utilities, kept her pantry and fridge stocked with ingredients, and even managed to tuck a bit into savings.
She was comfortable. But comfort wasn’t quite the same as fulfilled. Something was still missing, a quiet ache she couldn’t quite name that lived deep inside her. She’d spoken to Dr. Wheeler about it more than once. He always reminded her that her future was unwritten and that anything was possible. But deep down, Allison had accepted she might spend the rest of her life single. She wasn’t bitter about it. Some people just weren’t meant to be attached, and she refused to wallow in self-pity.
Every weekday at two fifteen sharp, Kathy Marks jogged by the bakery. Allison joined her for their afternoon jog without fail. They’d started running together in August when Kathy had started prepping for the school year. Kathy had her last period free, and the two women had fallen into an easy routine. Allison had dropped forty pounds in the last two years, and the run was something she did for herself, too. She felt good, stronger, lighter, and for the firsttime, she wasn’t trying to change her body to please or entice a man.
She was doing it for herself. That was liberating. And maybe, she thought with a grin, so she could justify sampling her own treats … and occasionally indulge in one of Gen Hollister’s legendary cinnamon rolls.
She was halfway to the front door, keys in hand, when Edna Michaelson popped up on the boardwalk, breathless and hurrying toward the entrance. Her gray hair frizzled and flopped erratically around her face.
“Am I too late? Can I still pick up my order?”
Allison stepped back and held the door open. “Nope, you’re not too late. I’ve got your order right here. I’ve already cleared out the till, but I’ll add it to tomorrow’s sales.”
She walked behind the counter and grabbed the box she’d packed earlier: two cream horns, one sourdough baguette, and three blueberry hand pies.
Edna pulled the exact amount from her worn leather coin purse. It was the same standing order she’d picked up every week for the past year and a half.
Edna hesitated, brow knitting. “We still have an arrangement, right?”
Allison responded with a solemn nod. “No one knows what’s in your order. No one needs to know.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If a lady wants a cream horn with her morning coffee, she deserves to have one.”
Edna nodded, her chin lifting with pride. “You’re correct. It’s nobody’s business.”
As she took the box, she sighed heavily, and Allison tilted her head, picking up the shift in Edna’s mood. “What’s the matter?”
The older woman looked at her, lips pursed, like she was weighing a decision.
Allison placed her hands on her hips. “Edna Michaelson, you know you can talk to me. I haven’t told a soul what’s in your order for over a year. You can tell me anything.”
Edna looked from left to right, then sighed heavily again. “I’m thinking about selling my place.”
Allison’s head snapped up, her frown forming instantly as she jerked back as if someone had physically shoved her. “What do you mean? The ranch?”
Edna nodded. “Yep. I have the small cottage here that I’m renting. That ranch house is just too darn big for me by myself. And it’s getting harder and harder to make the drive in winter to check on it. Belinda’s got a room for me in her house here intown, and she’d love for me to move in. Her boys are grown and out of the house, you know. But I’m just not sure I’m ready for a permanent roommate, female at least. I mean, independence is something I’ve fought for all my life. Maybe I could build a little house in town instead of renting.” Edna shook her head. “Bah, don’t let this old woman’s rattling on bother you, sweetie. Thanks for the order.”
“You never have to worry about talking with me, Edna. Unless it’s about Bigfoot or a UFO, I won’t say anything.” Allison smiled at her friend.
Edna laughed. “I know what everyone thinks. You think I’m touched in the head, but I’m not. One day, I’ll prove it to you.” She shifted the box in her hand, and her voice softened, weighted with emotion. “You know my husband worked so hard on that place. I don’t want to see it fall into disrepair. It’s just a small spread. I know Mr. Hollister would buy it. Or Mr. Marshall, if I asked. But …” She shook her head slowly. “I’d kinda like to see a family there. You know what I’m saying?”
Allison did. She leaned forward, braced her hands against the glass display case, and watched Edna’s face closely.
“But Kathy and Barry are settled,” Edna continued, “and I don’t know of any other newlywedsaround here. Especially not any who could afford the place.”
Allison gave her a soft smile. “Do you need to sell for financial reasons?”
Edna rolled her eyes. “Oh, heavens no. That place has been paid off forever. Taxes aren’t a problem either, I’ve got the permanent homestead exemption.” She shrugged. “It’s not about the money. It’s just … It’s a big house. And a lot of work.” She sighed. “As I said, Belinda has room for me, and we’re good enough friends.” She glanced at Allison. “I’d like to keep it that way, so I’m not inclined to move in with her.” She laughed and then said, “It’s getting hard taking care of that big old place all by myself.”
“Well, you’ve got plenty of time to figure it out,” Allison said gently. “It’s not like you’re in a rush, right?”
Edna shook her head. “Nope, not at all. I just figured I’d start putting the word out, slow-like, to people who might know people. You know what I mean? I don’t want this to turn into town gossip. You know how that goes.” She gave Allison a pointed look. “If Chester and Delbert over there got wind I was thinking about selling, the whole town would know. And next thing you know, people’d be saying Iwas going crazy, or I need to be carted off to an insane asylum. You know how stories grow around here.”
Allison stifled a laugh, biting the inside of her cheek. “I know exactly what you mean, Edna. Exactly.”
A sharp metallic clang made them both jump. The sound of a trash can lid hitting the gravel behind the bakery echoed around the corner.
