Warbee sighs. “Yeah, I know that part. I did keep up with you, but I meant did you hurt yourself just now?”

Some part of me takes satisfaction in the fact that she kept up with me after I left Blue Ridge. “No, I didn’t hurt myself now. It’s just running, or jogging is still difficult. My physical therapist said it’d never be the same but eventually I’d get back closer to my normal.” She turns away and I hear the sound of keys. “What are you doing?”

The door to the bakery flies open and Warbee turns back around to face me. She smiles and points up to the sign. “Welcome to my bakery.”

My mind is blown from this information. Although, now that I think about it the bakery belonging to Warbee makes perfect sense. I’m not sure why I didn’t put it together on my own. “Bee’s Batter…” I shake my head at my own lack of thinking. “Of course, it makes sense. I’m not sure how I missed it. Teaganne always called you Bee and your granny always called you her honeybee.” Warbee blushes but shrugs. “So, you teach school and own a bakery?”

Warbee is making her way inside, so I follow behind her. The bakery feels different, empty and dark. Suddenly, the lights come flooding on. “Grab a chair and have a seat. Also, to answer your question I don’t teach school normally. I’m just filling in for Mrs. Prado while she’s out on maternity leave. I thought it’d be fun when they asked, and the extra cash isn’t bad either.”

“Wow, I just assumed you were a teacher.”

Warbee giggles and it’s my favorite laugh she has. It’s carefree and all hers. “I know. I never corrected you either. I guess, I just assumed you knew that I owned this place. Before my granny passed, she gave it to me under two conditions.”

I chuckle. “Of course, there were conditions.” June comes back to mind and I remember how strong willed, determined, and independent she was, much like her granddaughter standing in front of me now.

“Right? So, I had to take the money she left me and redecorate and rename the place.” I hear the machine start to brew as Warbee comes around the counter with two plates in her hands.

She sits the beautiful small plates on the table I picked. The leaf design against the mustard yellow of the plate fits in perfectly with Warbee’s love for autumn. “What’s this?” It looks like a cinnamon roll but smells like a pumpkin pie.

“Something you should love. It’s a pumpkin roll. The tea will take a little bit longer to get done. This roll though is tomorrow’s special and one of my most popular creations. However, I never serve it before Bushels of Fun opens up.” She takes a seat and waits for me to take a bite.

With her watchful eyes on me I break off a piece of the roll and let the white icing roll all over my fingers and plate. The minute the roll hits my tongue it’s like a burst of autumn in my mouth. All the flavors of fall that you love so much are in there, including apple. “Where is the apple?” I ask her.

The smile that comes over her face is large. “So, the dough that I use to make the roll itself is an apple butter dough then I use pumpkin with cinnamon, nutmeg and allspice to create the filling and top it off with a generous amount of ooey gooey icing. It’s my best creation.”

“I could eat a dozen of these without thinking twice. They’re amazing Warbee,” I tell her, as I continue to eat. The brewer whistles and Warbee gets up.

“That’s the tea,” she tells me, as she heads behind the counter.

“May I use your restroom? I’m kind of covered in that icing,” I tell her.

“Yeah, you know where it is?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I call back to her. I’ve never had to use it before, but I’ve seen people coming in and out while waiting for my order in the mornings. As I come back out, I hear the sound of music playing softly. However, it’s all forgotten when I notice the corner of the bakery and the cork board with tons of laminated newspaper clippings hanging on it. Above it the wall reads, ‘Wall of Fame’. As I get closer, I notice that most of the clippings are about me. Either from high school, college or NFL, there are even a few magazine articles on there. She doesn’t say anything as she approaches. I don’t even hear her, I sense her. I feel her. I’m just as attuned to her now as I was back then. The board also holds articles about Teaganne and her fashion lines. “You kept up with all this?”

“Yeah,” she replies, like it’s the only thing that makes sense.

“But we broke up,” I answered, as I turned around. She hands me a large, steaming cup of tea.

“Apple pumpkin spice tea.” Warbee turns around and walks away from me. I’m dumbfounded. Throughout the years, I never truly got over her. I thought I had, but coming back home and being around her has made me realize I hadn’t, not even close. Even if I understood why she ended things with me all those years ago, a large part of me believed she had moved on.

“That’s all?” I ask. My voice rises and Warbee turns around to face me. “That’s all you have to say?”

She shrugs. “What else is there to say?”

“How about starting with why?” I already think I know the answer to that one, but I need to hear her say it, out loud and to me. She needs to admit it because I feel like a part of her is always fighting to let me go.

Warbee shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Sometimes, you can be so clueless.”

“Sorry, I’m not the genius between the two of us.” I meet her shocked eyes with my glare. I look angry I’m sure. A part of me is for some unknown reason. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.

“That’s unfair.”

My head shakes before I can stop it. “Life’s not fair darlin’ in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh, I noticed! You want to know why Rocker because I loved you. Because it took me years to be okay with seeing you and knowing you were out there living a life without me. It killed me to some extent to let you go,” she says, before turning around and slamming her mug down on the tiny wooden table.

I huff out air I had been holding without realizing. “You broke up with me!”