"No. It's brave. And I think your grandmother would love it."
"How do you know?"
"Because she told me. Right before she died. She said she worried about you—that you'd sacrifice your own dreams to preserve hers. She made me promise to remind you that the bakery was supposed to be a gift, not a burden."
Lucy felt tears prick her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"Because you weren't ready to hear it. You needed time to grieve, to find your footing, to figure out who you were as the owner of this place." Uncle Walter squeezed her hand. "But I think maybe you're ready now. To want things for yourself. To build your own life instead of just maintaining hers."
"What if I fail? What if I sell the bakery and travel and go to culinary school and it's all a huge mistake?"
"Then you'll have tried. And that's better than spending the rest of your life wondering what if." Uncle Walter stood. "Talk to Shayna. At least hear what she has to say. You don't have to decide anything today. But give yourself permission to consider it."
After he left, Lucy stood in the quiet bakery and pulled out her phone. The email from Shayna Barrett was still sitting in her inbox, unopened for three days.
She took a breath and opened it. Then she typed a response.
Ms. Barrett,
Thank you for your interest in The Bread Basket. I would be open to having a conversation about what a potential sale might look like. Would you be available for a call this week?
Best,Lucy Chen
She hit send before she could talk herself out of it.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of customers and baking and nervous energy about tonight. By 5 PM, Lucy had cleaned the bakery twice, reorganized the supply closet, and started prepping tomorrow's dough early just to keep her hands busy.
"Go home," Mae finally said. "You're making me anxious just watching you."
"It's barely 5."
"And you have a date in two hours. Go shower, do your hair, wear something cute. Stop stress-baking."
"I'm not stress-baking."
"You made forty extra pork buns. We don't need forty extra pork buns."
"Someone will buy them."
"Lucy. Go home. Be a person. Have a life."
Lucy laughed, but Mae was right. She finished cleaning up, locked the front door, and climbed the stairs to her apartment.
Her phone buzzed. Rei, of course.
Rei:Big date tonight. How are you feeling?
Lucy:Nervous. Excited. Terrified.
Rei:Perfect. That means you care.
Lucy:What if it's weird? What if we run out of things to talk about? What if yesterday was a fluke and tonight proves we have nothing in common?
Rei:Lucy. You've been circling each other for three years. You already know you have things in common. Now you just get to discover more.
Rei:Also he's COOKING for you. A man who barely knows how to feed himself is attempting to cook an actual meal because he wants to impress you. That's romance, babe.
Lucy:What should I wear?
