Page 113 of Guava Flavored Lies

“Then I guess I shouldn’t tell her that I joined Carla’s campaign as a volunteer to help with her social media presence.”

The words were unintelligible. For starters, Junior didn’t have any skills beyond playing video games, and even if he did, he wouldn’t just offer them up for free.

Behind her, the glass door bumped into Sylvie’s back.

“Perdon, mija.” Carla Machado apologized as she slipped out of the bakery. “Junior. So good to see you, mi amor. Can you come inside a minute? We just hit fifty thousand followers and I want to take a picture to commemorate it! There’s no way we could’ve done it without you!”

Sylvie stood in shock as her brother slithered around her like a little weasel and went into the bakery with baffling confidence. When he hugged Ms. Machado, her jaw dropped.

She was trying to figure out what her brother was playing at, when her parents, wearing King of Pastries shirts, started toward her down the sidewalk.

Oh, Lord! That’s worse!

“Mom! Dad!” Sylvie darted toward them. “Why are you wearing that! This isn’t about us—”

Her mother held out her hand to stop her panic induced tirade. When Sylvie reached them in front of the closed dog groomer, her mother greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

“We thought it would be a good idea to show not only our support for Lauren, but the store’s too,” her father explained before giving her a kiss. “If the Machados prefer that we put on one of their shirts instead we will.”

“Maybe I’ll wear her shirt as a scarf,” her mother muttered. “Or better yet a diap—”

“Okay, Mami. I get the sentiment. Thank you that’s really thoughtful.”

Half an hour later, the street had been converted to a full scale party venue complete with industrial fans to keep the sweltering heat under the massive tents at bay. Music filled the block as people streamed in from all sides. As Sylvie went over her long, mental checklist, she took a deep breath. Everything she could control was in place.

Even welcoming Lauren’s friends Dom and Melissa had gone smoothly, though Sylvie got the sense that she’d have to win them over a little. After their history, she wasn’t surprised. But if Lauren’s parents were warming up to her, anything was possible.

Slipping into the jam-packed bakery, Sylvie slid through the crowd sideways as she made her way to the back. Putting the tables away for the day had been a good idea. As it was, there was barely any room to stand.

When she approached the counter, she smiled. Her parents, still in their King of Pastries shirts, were working along side Lauren’s parents to serve the endless stream of patrons. When she realized that her mom and Lauren’s mom were competing to see who could serve people faster, she laughed. Even the sight of Junior helping expedite orders filled her with a little pride.

Lauren emerged from the kitchen with a tray of freshly baked bread that filled the stuffy room with the loveliest scent and reminded Sylvie that she hadn’t eaten since a working lunch the day before.

Beyond the hectic front of the house, the kitchen was even busier. Six people worked constantly to keep up with the high turnover of food. As they moved, they shimmied to the thumping Spanish music that filtered from the street all the way to the back of the house.

She made a bee line for her godmother, her face sweaty from working the fryer.

As soon as Regina saw her, she smiled. “How’s it going out there?”

“It’s perfectly orchestrated chaos,” Sylvie joked. “How are we doing in here?”

“I sent Miguel to Miami Lakes for more bread,” she started before giving her the rundown of what all the kitchens across the county were working on to keep food coming. With the exception of the airport locations, every single Machado and Campos Bakery had to be partially commandeered when Regina realized the enormity of the demand.

Regina could run a kitchen better than anyone, and despite the influx of orders, she kept everything moving smoothly. It had been a huge honor for Regina to insist on helping today, and for Lauren to accept the offer instead of using someone from her own bakery.

While Regina tossed lava-hot ham croquetas in a piece of freshly baked Cuban bread, Sylvie winced. “I’m sorry it’s so many more people than I expected. Who knew my marketing would work so well.” She grabbed a pineapple soda out of the fridge.

“It’s nothing we can’t handle, right girls?” Regina shouted over her shoulder to the women dancing while they worked.

“Well, we’re going to fall into bed like corpses tonight,” Sylvie joked before taking a bite of the sandwich Regina handed over. “Damn that’s good.” Sylvie groaned.

“You have time to sit around here eating, Campos?”

Sylvie sipped her soda and watched Lauren enter the kitchen. In stretchy shorts, a Pastry King t-shirt, and her long, wavy, hair piled into a messy bun, she had never looked more beautiful.

“What can I say? I need a break from doing all the work,” she joked.

Lauren kissed her before stealing an enormous bite of her sandwich. Sylvie held up the can of soda for Lauren to take. She probably hadn’t had anything to eat or drink all day either.

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