Page 73 of Gumdrops and Garland

“It wasn’t heated as much as it was miscommunication and frustration. Would I love to have another baby? Absolutely. Is there a chance in hell I can be a mother of two and run these two businesses? Not even the slightest.”

“That’s what I told Shep,” I agreed. “You can only stretch a person so thin before they snap.”

“And he knows that, but he’s frustrated too. He wants me to be home more and to spend more time with him and Lucy. I can’t disagree with him. Since we opened the bakery, business has boomed, but that’s added a lot to my plate. That said, I have a solution.”

“I’m happy for you. Just let me know what I can do to help. I’ve got your back.”

“I hope so,” she said, leaning on the desk again. “Because you’re my solution.”

My conversation with Shep came back to me and I started waving my hands. “No. I’m just a worker bee, Ivy. Nothing more.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I need a manager for this diner and I know you can do it.”

“Mason deserves that job, Ivy. Not me. He’s been the kitchen manager for years. He deserves the promotion to diner manager.”

“Don’t think that I haven’t discussed this with Mason already, Lance. Mason is quite happy doing what he’s doing here. Mason is a chef through and through. As you know, that kitchen is his and no one does anything without his approval.”

“He does rule the kitchen with an iron fist.”

“Which he will continue to do. He’s happy with what he’s doing and has never been interested in dealing with the front of the house side of the diner.”

“You’re saying he’s not a people person.”

“He is, just not the way you are. He prefers to make people happy with his food. You, on the other hand, love people.”

“While that’s true, Ivy, I can’t read and I’ve never gone to school for business.”

“Becca and Mel hadn’t either. I hired them anyway.”

“Becca and Mel can read.”

“Lance, I don’t want you to get defensive. I want to talk about this with you in a way that helps you see how much we all appreciate and depend on you around here.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “I know you do, Ivy. You don’t have to give me a promotion to prove to me that I’m dependable. I don’t think that little of myself.”

“Good, then will you at least hear me out?”

The eagerness on her face and the desperation in her eyes told me she needed a change and she was hanging all of her hopes on me making it happen. Too bad there was no way I could. “I’ll hear you out, but then you have to offer me the same courtesy.”

She nodded her agreement and I settled into the chair to listen to her without interrupting. I already knew there was nothing she could say to convince me that I could be the manager of The Nightingale Diner.

I unlocked the bakery door and slipped inside. It was time to mass produce the Michelle Garland Christmas Cookie for the year and I was so excited to get a pile of cookies to fill the bakery. Lance and I had from eight p.m. until the bakers came in at three a.m. to make, frost, and decorate. It should be no problem. I had already done the math and with five waffle irons going, we’d only have to do the rotation eight times to have the forty-eight dozen we needed to supply the cookie walk, the bakery, and the farm with cookies for Christmas Eve. When you put it that way, it sounded like it would take a lot of time, but it wouldn’t. They’d all be baked in under an hour. It was going to be the frosting and decorating that would take a long time.

I didn’t mind. I was looking forward to spending the night with Lance. We’d been busy, and hadn’t seen each other much for a couple of days other than in passing. I missed him when we weren’t together, which told me we had finally found the right track for our relationship.

The door to the bakery opened and then shut as I rolled the mixing bowl toward the bench. I’d already made the cookie dough earlier today and let it sit in the cooler to make it easier to handle. We had to roll the dough in balls before putting them on the irons, which was going to be the most time consuming. I pulled the plastic wrap off the mixing bowl and nearly shouted with excitement just as Lance stepped into the room.

“Mel must have had the kids roll all the dough into balls!” I exclaimed when I saw him. I ran over and kissed his cheek with a loud smack. “Hi! I missed you,” I said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the table. I grabbed an apron on the way by and tossed it at him, but he didn’t catch it.

“Lance? What’s wrong?” I asked, realizing he was not his usual self.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, tossing the apron on to the bench. “What’s wrong is you going behind my back to talk to Ivy about my job at the diner.”

I raised my hands in defense. “Lance, what are you talking about? I didn’t talk to Ivy about your job at the diner.”

“Oh, right,” he said, his jaw clenched. “You didn’t have anything to do with Ivy turning me into a charity case.”

I shook my head in confusion. “I can’t even follow the conversation we’re having right now, Lance. How would I turn you into a charity case?”

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