June's POV
I watched through the bakery window as Michael Stahom's cab pulled away, leaving the mess he'd made behind like it was nothing.
The nerve of that man. Who crashes into someone's bakery sign in the middle of the afternoon and then walks off as if it's just a normal Tuesday?
I didn't know exactly how I felt about the whole ordeal. Sure, the man had charm—no doubt about that—but I wasn't fazed. To me, he was just another rich guy in Colorado, ready to throw money at a problem so his shiny reputation wouldn't get scratched.
I sighed running a hand through my hair, I glanced over at Mom, who was already back behind the counter. She looked unfazed, like nothing major had happened, like it was just another day at the bakery. But it wasn't.
"Are you okay, Mom?" What a silly question—I knew she wasn't okay. I looked down at my hands in my lap, feeling a bit sheepish for asking it.
Clearing my throat, I walked over to the counter. "How do you really feel, Mom?"She smiled softly, that steady, strong smile she always wore when she was trying to brush off her own pain. "Darling, I'm alright. A little rattled, but alright nonetheless. I guess I'm just glad no one got hurt, but it stings to see your dad's sign damaged."Her words hit me harder than I expected.
Mom was tough—stronger than anyone I knew—but the sadness in her voice, however brief, was enough to twist my heart. I hated seeing her like this. I hated that he made her feel this way."I'm sorry, Mom," I said softly, my throat tightening.
She shook her head as if to ward off the sadness. "No need for that, love. Your father's always with us, sign or no sign. We'll figure it out."Mom was quick to move past her emotions. It used to frustrate me, but now I was almost grateful for it. She never let anything hold her down for long. "Now, you'd better head home," she continued, standing up. "I think I'll close up early today. It's been a long day, and you've got work tomorrow. Go on—get some cookies for Samantha and head home."
That was Mom. She never let on how much things affected her. Sometimes it drove me crazy; other times, I was glad she could keep her head up like that.
Knowing I wouldn't get anywhere by pushing her further, I nodded. "Okay, I'll do that."I grabbed some of Sam's favorite cookies, put them in a box, and collected my things from the back room.
Before heading out, I stopped by Mom, who had sat down at one of the tables, letting the employees handle the rest of the closing tasks."I love you, Mom," I said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "Call me if you need anything, alright? I'll see you tomorrow."She smiled warmly. "Love you too, sweetie. I'll be fine. See you tomorrow."
As I stepped outside, the familiar jingle of the door behind me faded, and I came face to face with the sign. Dad's sign. Crooked, damaged, and hanging on by a thread.
I sighed, feeling a pang in my chest. What a day.I shook off the feeling and headed to my car. I carefully placed the box of cookies on the passenger seat, tossed my bag beside it, and slid into the driver's seat.
Turning the key in the ignition, I drove off, eager to get home to my best friend and a much-needed night of rest.