Page 89 of The Good Luck Cafe
“As you should be, Mom,” Moira said.
“Some part of me always thought you’d take over one day, but it’s not your path, and I would never force my dream on you. You have a life, and I am so amazed by who you’ve become. Who you’re still becoming. You save lives, Moira.”
Moira shifted uncomfortably in the small metal chair. “Not exactly, but thank you for understanding, Mom.” Moira had never wanted to work at her mom’s business. She didn’t even enjoy baking.
“Moira, I’ve broached this with you a couple of times, but I don’t think you’ve heard me. I know this bakery is like a second home to you. You said your first word in this building. You learned to crawl and then walk here. And don’t think I’m not keen on the fact that this place is where you had your first kiss when you were fourteen.”
Moira’s mouth fell open.
“Peter Blake,” Darla said with the faintest hint of a smile. “I had a talk with that boy at this very table the next day.”
Moira gasped. “You didn’t.”
Darla laughed quietly. “I did. What I’m trying to say is, this bakery is special. It harbors memories that I hold dear.”
Moira reached for her mom’s hand. “Mom, I’m not giving up on saving this place. That’s why I’m running for mayor.”
Darla’s smile dropped. “I was worried that was the case.”
Moira shook her head. “What do you mean by that?”
“Moira, this bakery can’t be your why for running for town mayor. Helping me can’t be yourwhy. Moira, the truth is, I don’t want to save this bakery.”
“What?” Moira sat up straighter. “Of course you do. Like you just said, this place is special. It’s home.”
“I’m ready to retire, Moira. I don’t wake up eager to get to this place anymore. I watch the clock when I’m here because I want to be home where your father is. He almost died a few years ago. We have a second chance, and I don’t want to waste it working behind a counter. I want to do the things we always said we would.” She forced a smile.
Moira’s dad was enjoying his retirement so much. Moira knew that. “You could hire more staff and work less hours.”
“I could, and I’ve considered that option. But part of me feels like, when the doors are open, I need to be here interacting with the customers. I honestly think Sweetie’s Bakeshop will go downhill if I delegate what I’ve always done to staff who aren’t as invested in this place. I don’t really want to see that happen. Sometimes it’s best to go out on top.”
“Mom, you don’t really believe that.”
Darla gave her a pointed, serious look. She didn’t blink, didn’t shift or fidget. “I do, and I want you to hear this.Reallyhear it, Moira. The parking lot is necessary, and it should be here. I’m ready to move on to something new, like your father. If your why for running for mayor is this bakery, then it’s misplaced.”
***
Gil walked outside onto his back deck and sat in one of the wooden Adirondack chairs. Goldie quickly joined him, pushing her head beneath his hand to force him to pet her. Gil absently obliged while his mind retraced his evening with Moira the other night.
“Hey, Gilly.”
Gil blinked the blurry image of the lake back into view and turned toward Doug, who was heading across the lawn. He was wearing aVOTE GIL RYAN FOR MAYORT-shirt in a dark gray color this time. “Hey, buddy. How are you?”
“You made Reva’s blog again.”
Gil chuckled. “I know. I’m dating the competition. That’s big news.”
Doug slowly climbed the deck steps. Goldie ran over to greet him, walking faithfully beside him until he sat in the chair next to Gil’s. In another life, she would have made a good service dog.
Doug held up one finger. “You made one bullet point.”
“All publicity is good publicity,” Gil said. He didn’t really believe that statement though. A time or two he’d gotten publicity that rattled him and upset his supporters, like this thing with Sweetie’s Bakeshop.
“Hey, Gilly?”
“Hmm?” Gil looked over, squinting at the sun’s rays.
“I don’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings, but this isn’t a phase. I want my own place.”
