Belonging to the Band

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

“Don’t worry about it. Those big orders will be good for business.” I grinned, picking at the corner of the blue and white quilt on my bed. Heather had opened up her bakery a few years ago and she had poured herself into the business, building it up and making it thrive.

“Yeah,” she sighed, and I could picture her shaking her head with that small smile of hers. “I just wish the success didn’t come with so much stress, you know?”

We ended the call shortly after that and I climbed out of bed. Making my way out of the bedroom and into the small kitchen. It was barely big enough to fit the stove, fridge, and sink but that didn’t bother me. This place wasn’t my end goal but it was a good starting place. Plus, it was in my budget, which was sadly very lacking.

Once I had more saved up and things were doing a little better at the restaurant, I could find something else. Until then, this worked.

I walked over to the coffee maker and started fixing a pot of coffee. It was my day off, but I was going to need it. I needed to clean up and do laundry on top of helping Heather out with deliveries. I’d been putting it off all week, not wanting to go up the four flights of stairs to reach the washer and dryer but I was on my last pair of clean undies and my work shirts needed to be washed.

Watching the coffee pot, I made a mental list of what I needed to do. Grocery shopping needed to fit in there somewhere. My coffee this morning was going to be creamer-less because I had used the last of the bottle yesterday. I frowned at the thought of the bitter black coffee but I needed the caffeine pick me up.

When the coffee was done, I grabbed one of the chipped mugs that I had gotten at the thrift store. This one had a picture of a fluffy kitten on the side of it. Maybe when things were settled, I could get a cat. Then there would be someone to greet me when I got home. It felt weird to come home to silence and an empty apartment and I still hadn’t gotten used to it.

Then again, maybe it was better if I didn’t get a pet. I couldn’t imagine leaving a cat or a dog home alone all the time. Who was I kidding? I didn’t have a life anymore. I went to work, I came home. Sometimes I grabbed dinner with Heather and her husband. I loved playing with Kari on those nights, hearing her little baby laugh as we played peekaboo. Her face lighting up, those chubby baby cheeks glowing as she looked at me.

It made me long for a family of my own. Then again, it was for the best that I didn’t have any kids. I could only imagine how much harder things would have been to escape my ex if there was a child involved.

Pouring a cup of coffee, I leaned against the counter and blew at the steam. I looked out the small kitchen window, trying not to think about my ex and what he had put me through. I had cried enough over him and I wasn’t going to waste anymore time thinking about something that I couldn’t change.

After finishing off my coffee, I got dressed and picked up my bedroom. Taking a moment to straighten up the room before I slipped on my boots and grabbed my purse. Hooking it over my shoulder as I made my way to the door, I grabbed my keys from the hook and left. Locking the door behind me, I hurried over to the stairwell and opened the door. Taking the stairs down to the ground floor and making my way out of the apartment.

My beat up dark blue Chevy Saturn sat parked in its spot. It was an old car but it had gotten me here and it held a special place in my heart. It was paid for and something that I didn’t need to worry about for now. I pulled out my keys, unlocking the car and slipping behind the steering wheel.

I started the car, listening to the engine come to life. Every time I turned the engine over, it made me hold my breath. Would this be the time it finally gave out? But it held on, rumbling and ready. I slipped on my seat belt, checked my mirrors, and eased out of the parking spot.

Navigating my way deeper into the city. Heather’s bakery was on the trendier side of the city filled with little bistros and boutiques. It was the perfect spot for her bakery but my little car looked out of place as I pulled into the back parking lot.

Heather’s bakery, Cookie Blossoms, was in an older brick building. The smell of pastries and fresh fruit hit me as I opened the door to my car and got out. Pulling my hair back into a messy bun, I made my way to the heavy looking steel door, gripping the handle, I pulled it open and stepped inside.

The smell of the bakery was comforting and familiar. It was a reminder of being a teenager and cooking in Heather’s parent’s kitchen. Happier times when the world was bright and we were full of hope for the future.

Rock music played softly in the background. The kitchen was all gleaming steel appliances. Everything was in its place and my friend stood in the center of it, finishing off an arrangement of fruit.

Her curly auburn hair was pulled back into a loose braid that hung heavy over her shoulder. There was a smudge of pink icing on her cheek from the cookies that she had decorated earlier. Her soft voice hummed to the music that was playing and she looked right at home here.