Page 69 of Say It Isn't Snow
Caleb’s the one who helped me accept that I’m not inconveniencing others by needing their help.
I don’t have to rely on myself alone. I have people in my life who are there for me as much as I am for them.
I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished by opening Blissful Bites Bakery. It’s my baby I’ve built with all of my passion poured into it from the start. I want to see it continue to grow.
However, something I’ve learned in the last few weeks is that it’s different running the shop compared to the made-to-order online business I started in college. I only had to worry about what I was making for the orders I took, not a whole menu on top of them and serving customers.
It all runs through my head during the night while I’m snuggled in Caleb’s arms. I slept for a short while, utterly shattered by his devoted attention after he took me home. Once I was awake, my brain wouldn’t stop turning over everything on my to-do list.
He gives a protesting grumble, holding me tighter when I slip out of bed long before the sun rises. I bend to kiss him and run my fingers through his unruly hair until he falls asleep again, smiling softly at the way he hugs my pillow.
As I spend my favorite time of day on my own with my thoughts, I make up my mind. By the time I’ve had coffee and go downstairs to the shop, I have a plan to check with my friends and family to see who might be around.
Layla might not be busy and Leo did insist I should let him know if I needed him to come in. My parents haven’t been to Mayfield for a visit lately, and Mom did mention wanting to come down for a day trip to grab lunch with me and stroll the shopping district.
Familiar eldest daughter guilt momentarily bubbles up at making plans with any of them because I need their help, but I stop it in its tracks. They’re my family and I should be able to count on them the same way they can depend on me.
I make a sign for the front door to change the shop hours to give myself time to manage one task at a time. The order queue takes priority for now.
As I work on the one I started yesterday, Caleb comes down. He hugs me from behind while I’m mixing meringue powder into the royal icing recipe. His big hands slip beneath my apron, splaying on my soft stomach.
“Morning,” he says gruffly.
“Morning was two hours ago for me,” I tease.
He tucks his face against the crook of my neck with a hum. “Did you eat?”
“I had coffee.”
“That’s not food.”
“It’s a necessity,” I declare.
His husky laugh tickles my skin. “Where are the eggs? I’ll make you something.”
Pleasure sweeps through me at the domestic intimacy. Mornings are my peaceful sanctuary, but I like them better when he’s part of them. His presence is a reassuring blanket wrapped around me.
“Here. Take a short break to eat your breakfast.” He guides me away from the standing mixer to sit and feeds me the first bite of food.
“Thank you.” I take the plate.
He presses his lips to the top of my head. “I’m going to pick up coffee while I run an errand. Do you want more?”
“Yes, please.”
I tilt my head back for a kiss. He gives it to me, smiling into it.
“I’ll be back in a little bit,” he says.
After eating, I check my phone. It’s reached a decent time of day for the rest of the world who didn’t rise before dawn to work in a bakery.
I brush my hands off on my apron and take a breath. I tell my overreacting nerves that I’m reaching out to my friend for help, not running from a predator, so there’s no reason whatsoever for my fight-or-flight response to kick up over a phone call.
I push down the jumpy anxiousness that comes with putting myself out there rather than handling things by myself and call Layla. She answers on the first ring.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she chirps.
“You’re up early. And super chipper. Did you get laid?” I guess.
