By the time her laundry was done, it was 2 PM. Lucy folded everything with precise hospital corners, put it away, and stood in her living room wondering what to do next.
This was what Uncle Walter had been talking about. This restless, untethered feeling. The sense that she'd forgotten how to exist without the structure of work.
Lucy grabbed her laptop and opened her email. Just to check. Just to make sure nothing urgent had come through.
Forty-three new messages. Most were spam, but there were three from suppliers, one from the local coffee roaster, and one from someone named Shayna Barrett with the subject line: "Business Opportunity."
Lucy opened that one.
Ms. Chen,
My name is Shayna Barrett, and I represent a regional development company interested in acquiring established businesses in Timber Falls. We've had our eye on The BreadBasket for some time—your grandmother built an incredible legacy, and we believe we can help expand that legacy while providing you with financial freedom.
Would you be open to discussing a potential sale? We're prepared to make a generous offer that would allow you to pursue other opportunities while ensuring The Bread Basket continues to serve the community.
Please let me know if you're interested in learning more.
Best regards,Shayna Barrett
Lucy read the email three times.
A sale offer. For the bakery. For her grandmother's legacy.
The logical part of her brain immediately started calculating. How much would they offer? Enough to pay off the equipment loans? Enough to have savings? Enough to travel, to go to culinary school, to see all those places she'd dreamed about in college?
The emotional part of her brain was screaming.
Sell the bakery? Her grandmother's bakery? The recipes that had been perfected over forty years, the space that still smelled like her grandmother's favorite tea, the building where Lucy had spent every Christmas morning since she was six?
Impossible.
Wasn't it?
Lucy closed the laptop without responding. This wasn't something she needed to think about today. This was a "future Lucy" problem.
Except the email had already wormed its way into her brain. Because wasn't this exactly what Uncle Walter had been talking about? Having choices? Having options?
If she sold the bakery, she could do anything. Go anywhere. Stop feeling like she was trapped by responsibility and guilt and the weight of her grandmother's expectations.
But if she sold the bakery, she'd lose the only connection she had left to her grandmother. She'd lose the business that had defined her entire adult life. She'd lose... herself?
Lucy wasn't sure anymore where "the bakery" ended and "Lucy" began.
Her phone buzzed. Rei again.
Rei:Friday night. Team dinner. You're coming. This is not a request.
Lucy stared at the message for a long moment. Then she typed:
Lucy:Okay. I'll come.
Rei:REALLY???
Lucy:Really. But if it's terrible I'm blaming you.
Rei:deal. wear something cute. Jake will be there.
Lucy:Why do I care if Jake will be there?
