Page 26 of Back to You
“And I really love to bake, you know that, right?” I fidget with my fingers, my knee bouncing under the table. “Like, I really love to bake. I don’t think I ever told you this, but when I was in Seattle, I picked up catering gigs just so I could bake for people again. Nothing crazy, but every time someone took a bite of something I made and smiled—Ruth, I missed that feeling.”
I exhale sharply, trying to rein myself in, but it’s a lost cause. “Learning from you was a dream. You have so much talent, Ruth. I mean, did you go to culinary school? I don’t think I’ve ever asked that. Or business school? What about a secret bakery society where they teach people how to make perfect frosting swirls? Why have I never asked these things before?”
She chuckles softly, but I barrel on.
“I guess because I never thought I’d be standing here right now.” My throat tightens as reality crashes into me. I grip the coffee cup in front of me, staring down at the dark liquid, willing my hands to stop shaking. “But here I am.”
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to look up to meet her gaze. “I just want you to know that I think you’re incredible, Ruth. And I love The Rolling Pin so much. I swear I’d do right by it. I wouldn’t have to change a thing. Okay, well, maybe a couple of things? But not like a lot. Just enough to make it my own, you know? But I’d keep its heart. I’d keep everything that makes it special.” I swallow hard, words suddenly catching in my throat.
“It can be my love letter to this town. My way of showing my appreciation for everything it’s given me—for you, for my parents, for the people who have always been here for me.”
I press my lips together, suddenly panicked that I’ve said too much. I brace for her reaction. What the hell am I even saying? I exhale sharply. I completely screwed this up. Ruth is staring at me, her mouth slightly open. Probably horrified by the absolute mess of words that just fell out of my mouth. Shit. She’s never going to sell me the bakery. I can’t even string together a proper sentence. I just ruined this before it even started.
Ruth waves her hands in the air like she’s trying to slow down a runaway train. “Mariana. Breathe. Sit down. I have no idea what you just said, and I think we need to start over.”
I nod, dropping into my chair like a sack of flour.
“Now,” she says patiently. “Before we start this conversation again, I want you to breathe in for three beats, then out for three.”
I do as she says. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. I feel lighter.
Ruth places her hands over mine, her touch warm and grounding. “There you go. Now, start over.”
I look at her hands—aged, steady, filled with love. She’s right. I’ve never been afraid to talk to her. I lift my gaze, finding new determination. “I want to buy ‘The Rolling Pin’.”
Ruth squeezes my hands, and I brace for the letdown. Instead, she studies me carefully. “Are you sure, honey? You’ve always had one foot out the door in this town. I need to know you’re really staying—not just for now, but for good.”
Her words settle over me, heavy and real, the type of truth I can’t ignore. “I’m sure,” I say, my voice steady. “I’m staying.”.
Ruth watches me for a long moment before her lips curve into a wide grin.“Well, it’s about damn time.”
I blink. Once. Twice. Did my brain just imagine that? Surely, she actually said, "No damn way," and I just heard it wrong.
"I’m sorry, can you repeat that?"
Ruth chuckles. "I said, Mariana, it’s about damn time."
My jaw drops. "I don’t think I understand."
She leans forward, eyes twinkling. “Mari, I’ve been hoping you’d want to take over the bakery someday. I trust only you with my place. I trained you, I taught you everything I know. I know that no one, and I mean no one, will love it like you will. You moving to Seattle was just a blip. Marrying that Andrew fellow—well, we don’t have to talk about that. But in my heart, I always knew you’d find your way back home. Back to what was meant to be yours.” Her voice is warm, unwavering.
I feel tears prick my eyes.
"You were always meant for this."
I let out a shaky breath. "Thank you, Ruth. Thank you for believing in me. I swear I won’t let you down."
She laughs, squeezing my hand. "I’m not worried about that at all."
Then she leans back, smirking. “And Mari? If you want to change a few things, go for it. Make it yours.”
I rise to my feet, heart pounding, Ruth standing beside me. She walks me to the door, pulling me into another hug before whispering in my ear: “The place is yours, Mari.”
I step outside, walking to my car in a daze. I did it. I own ‘The Rolling Pin.’ The Rocky soundtrack is playing in my head as I mentally pump my fist in the air.
I freaking did it.
CHAPTER 9
