Around twelve, I saw a woman in her late twenties stop at the florist’s door with a flyer in her hand. Harmony stepped outside to talk to her. They stood shoulder to shoulder a minute. Harmony nodded, wrote something on the bottom of the page, and pointed down Main toward the community center. When the woman left, Harmony pinned a second flyer on the front door. I couldn’t see what it said, so I headed outside to check the window again, like an idiot. She was going to think I was stalking her. I had to stop watching her. Now that I was closer, I saw it said,Val-Du-Lys Youth Outreach—Mentors Needed.Under it, in pen:Tues/Thurs 4–6 p.m. at the Community Center.
That tracked. If there was a way to make up for the past that wasn’t hers, she’d take it. Teens at the center were loud and honest. They’d decide fast if they trusted you. I had a good feeling they’d trust her. Maya lined up pastry boxes for the noon orders. “Want me to add the community center to Thursday’s delivery of donations?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I answered. “Two trays. Basic stuff. I’ll run it over.”
“Got it. That’s nice of you, boss. Always giving back.”
A little after twelve, Harmony stepped out with a small arrangement for pickup. A man in a fleece cut across the sidewalk and said something I couldn’t hear and wouldn’t want to. Harmony didn’t flinch. She handed her customer the flowers and went back inside. I felt the old urge to step in and make it stop. I kept my place. She chose to come home. She got to run her own day. Still, I added an extra coffee to the afternoon tray I’d take over because a part of me understood why sheleft without looking back, but a heads-up would have been nice. Maybe a phone number too. Something that would have let me know she was okay.
Near four, I loaded two trays and drove them over to the community center. The gym smelled like freshly polished floor. A volunteer checked the list and took the boxes. Harmony wasn’t there yet; her shift started now. As I headed out, a boy about fourteen hesitated by the door, hands in his sweatshirt pocket, eyes on my logo. “You the bakery?”
“Yeah.”
He nods at the tray. “Do you guys hire after school?”
“Sometimes,” I replied. “Ask for Maya. She’ll tell you what we’ve got.”
He looked relieved, like that answer was heavier before it came out. “Thanks.”
On the way back, I passed Harmony walking with her bag, hair pulled back, cheeks pink from the chill. She slowed when we crossed. For a second it was like it was before. Then it wasn’t.
“Eric, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“I saw the flyer and figured the kids could use some treats. Or maybe the mentors can use the treats to bribe them,” I said with a crooked grin.
“Thanks, it’s a really nice gesture,” she replied. I hated it felt like there was a barrier the size of the Great Wall of China between us.
“Yeah, well, I can’t volunteer my time. I got a lot on my plate,” I said.
She sighed. “I need to do something to help. I knew this town wasn’t going to welcome me back with open arms, but a part of me wanted to be accepted.. Montreal never did feel like home, although Val-Du-Lys stopped feeling like home too until. . .”
Her green eyes locked with mine. I swallowed, feeling an ache in my chest.
“Anyway,” she blinked, “I’m trying to find my place.”
“I can understand that. I think the kids are going to love you,” I said to her and my words did something to soften her, because then she gave me the slightest smile that did something to my insides. Life didn’t cut Harmony any slack, but she was tough. She’d find her rhythm. What she needed was kindness from people, not the harsh words they were dishing her way.
“I should head in.” She pointed to the gym.
I nodded and we left it there.
Back on Main Street, Sandy had a slip ready for me. “Library asked if you’d do a ‘life skills night’ next month,” she says. “Basic baking for teens. Harmony could show simple bouquets on a budget. They want a double session.” Her mention of Harmony’s name felt a little transparent.
“Are you being a peacekeeper now? Because Harmony and I are fine,” I assured.
“No such thing, I don’t know much about you two, but what I do know is the spark ignited fast and burned out too quickly,” she said.
I didn’t know if her understanding of our history was accurate. I didn’t think the fire ever truly burned out between us. Maybe that’s why I was having a hard time not thinking about her.
“Okay, yeah, I’ll do it,” I agreed.
“Thatta boy,” she laughed.
I laughed too.
Late afternoon, Becket stopped by the bakery for a coffee and donut since he was in the area. “Saw Harmony working with the at-risk teens. They seem to have been taken by her,” he said and then he watched me.
It was easy to be taken by Harmony, there was something about her. She was stubborn, beautiful, and always stood on her moral ground.
