Page 23 of Whole Latte Love

After a bit longer we part ways so I can head to the roastery and he can work on his book.

I watch him walk away. I decide to grab a sugary treat before going to work. Besides, I’m just doing inventory and tastings prep for class next week. The retail side isn’t open pastlunchtime on Saturdays. I text Victor my change in plans and head into the bakery.

If only sugar could cure grief and heartache.

EIGHT

MARIE

Bethany cheerfully greetsme when I enter the bakery. She’s wearing an orange and pink plaid dress with a white apron. Her fiery red curls are pulled up in a bun with a few straggling curls bobbing as she waves me over to the counter.

“Give me one second and we can chat.” She’s putting a new tray of summer themed sugar cookies in the display case.

“Those look delicious.” I point to one that’s iced with a yellow and orange sun. There are little pink and orange seashells, blue and green fish, and even a few sandcastle ones. “How many different designs is Violet making these days?”

“Well, you know she’s training Anne to be able to handle everything while she’s on her honeymoon.” Bethany gazes at the display case. There’s a bunch of empty space, which it’s after four so the bakery closes soon. I’d expect them to be wiped out of goods by now.

“Violet and Anne are making more than enough!” I grin at my friend. She wipes her hands on her apron before taking it off and hanging it on a hook.

“I swear I don’t know how we’re supposed to sell all these extra pastries and cookies, but I trust Violet.” She hands me a couple of cookies on a plate.

I start to munch on one, it’s delicious as expected. The sugar rush hitting the spot.

“I wanted to talk to you about a potential business plan for the roastery and bakery.” We head to a table and sit down together.

Bethany tries to redo her bun, but her curls are just too much for her scrunchie. I try to hide my smile as I note she’s using a neon orange silk scrunchie. I don’t know if she’s ever worn a dull outfit in her life.

But she lives her life fully and boldly, that’s for certain.

“So then, you’re not here to talk about a potential relationship with Theo?” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

“No, just business.” I fidget with the hem of my shirt, letting the silence stretch.

“Now that you’re here,” she leans in, her round eyes squint slightly, “do you want to talk about how you and Theo are doing anyways?”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “He agreed to my plan of basically being friends with potential benefits. He changed his plans and now he’s leaving a few weeks early, and everything should feel right but it doesn’t.” My words just fall out. “It feels like I ate takeout leftovers that were sitting in the fridge just a smidge too long, Beth.” My eyes become blurry, tears coming just as quickly as my words.

“Oh babe…” She moves to sit next to me and pulls me into a hug as my tears begin to fall. She strokes my back as she continues, “I thought you didn’t want anything serious.”

“I know,” my voice croaks out. “I feel so guilty whenever I think I’m starting to feel romantic feelings towards anyone. But there’s something about being with Theo. Lately when I’ve been thinking about my future and the roastery, Theo keeps popping up in it.” I sniffle as she continues to rub my back.

We just sit together in silence for a few minutes. Bethany is my one friend who knows what it’s like to lose loved ones. She still lives in her parents’ home and took over the family business when they died and left it to her. She sees pieces of them every day.

And yet she’s not a mumbling mess of tears and snot.

“It’s like I just found the final missing puzzle piece that I’ve been searching for,” I pause, “and yet it still feels like if I try again, I’d be letting Seth down. As if it’d make him feel as though I didn’t love him as much as I did while we were together.”

“I see.” Bethany pulls away and hands me a napkin. “Do you know how we get our biscotti to be so crisp and perfect?”

I tilt my head, quizzically looking at my best friend, trying to figure out how she got to this train of thought from me crying about my love life. I finally just shake my head no and let her continue her tangent.

“They get baked twice.” She holds two fingers up. “The first time is like a normal baking, but then we pull it out, let it cool, and cut it into pieces. Then we bake the pieces again. This second round gives them the crispness and crunch when you eat them.”

“Are you saying I’m a piece of biscotti?” I question her attempted analogy.

“More that your love life is the biscotti. You had a good first round with Seth. You loved each other and he’ll always be a part of who you are, however,” she scrunches her brows, “when he died you got cut into a bunch of little pieces. You’re fine but you’re not as good as you could be. You need to be open to love again, ergo the second baking.”

“How did you do it?” My tears have finally stopped, my nose just a little sniffly.

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