Page 7 of Just Desserts in Pelican Point
I’m too stunned to speak.
He guides me gently toward the bakery, where the bustle has quieted to a hush. My friends are inside, waiting, watching. Sophie whispers something to Joselyn and crosses the room with a cup of water in hand.
“I just gave her the muffin,” I murmur, mostly to myself.
Marcus hears me anyway. He sits beside me, his voice low. “You care about her.”
“Everyone does.”
The movement outside of my bakery window catches my eye. Tears fill my eyes as I watch the paramedics shake their heads and cover Mrs. Waverly with a white sheet.
She’s gone.
My hands shake. My chest aches. And for the first time in weeks, my sunshine is covered in gray clouds.
Officer King sees my reaction and he’s quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to do this now. I can come back tomorrow, okay?”
I nod.
He stands, gives me one last look—steady, grounded—and then he’s gone. But the moment stays. Not the moment he left but the moment he looked at me like he saw the grief bleeding through my flour-dusted smile and didn’t flinch.
I exhale and grip the edge of the table, bracing myself against the weight of loss of my friend and now Seaside Sweets doesn’t feel sweet at all.
* * *
The bakery is quiet now.
The door is locked. The display case is empty, the smell of cinnamon, sugar, and stale coffee lingering in the air like a memory.
My friends haven’t left.
Emma sits beside me at one of the window tables, her hand on mine. Sophie leans against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. Joselyn and Candace, who came running when they heard what happened, have taken seats nearby, silent for once. Even Ryan’s here, hovering by the front door like a watchdog.
I stare at my untouched cup of tea, my throat raw.
"She was like… like a grandmother to me," I say softly. "Not the baking-cookies kind, though she did do that. But she gave me advice when I was just starting out. Told me what wholesalers to trust, what days would be best for the deliveries to come, how to charm the health inspector without selling my soul."
Emma squeezes my hand. "You two were close."
I nod, a tear slipping down my cheek. "She told me stories about what Pelican Point was like forty years ago. She said people underestimated flowers. Thought they were just pretty things. But she said they were the first and last gift most people ever received. That they mattered. That how you presented them, the care you took—it all told a story."
Sophie wipes at her own eyes. "Sounds like she was a badass."
"She was," I whisper. "She believed in this town, in small businesses. In me. When I was scraping every last dime together to get the bakery open, she gave me a check for five hundred dollars and said it was a donation to the future of Seaside Sweets."
"She obviously believed in you," Candace murmurs.
"She said if I made it, she’d consider it a good investment. And if I didn’t, she’d pretend it was a bad bet on chocolate croissants." I chuckle at the memory of that day.
The silence that follows is heavy with shared grief. Pelican Point isn’t big, but it’s close. Everyone knows everyone, and Mrs. Waverly was a cornerstone.
I inhale slowly, trying to find my footing. "The officer who showed up today… Officer King, I think his name was. He was calm. Quiet. He looked at me as if he could see I wasn’t okay and didn’t push. Just… told me he’d come by tomorrow to finish the statement. That was nice of him."
Sophie arches a brow. "Tall? Dark hair? Blue eyes that could melt steel?"
I blink. "Uh… yeah."
She shares a look with Emma.
