Seth had gotten out of the habit back home, where one of the local cafés was known for their maple donuts, and Seth hadn’t wanted to step on any toes and…
“Um…” Seth cast his gaze around, as if a wild donut might appear from nowhere.
The man’s face fell, although he quickly turned it into a smile when the little toddler looked back at him, asking again, “Doh-nuh?”
The presumed dad cleared his throat. “I made the mistake of giving him a bite of mine the other day, and ever since?—”
Struck by sudden genius, Seth leaned forward, whispering, “If I cut a hole in the center of a brioche bun, would he know the difference?”
The dad’s look of relief was almost painful to witness. “No, no, he really wouldn’t. I tried not to give him the bits with icing anyway.”
Seth leaned back, raising his voice loud enough for the kiddo to hear. “One donut, coming up!”
The toddler started clapping his chubby hands, chanting again, “Doh-nuh! Doh-nuh!”
Seth got to work, taking a brioche roll off its stand and cutting it surreptitiously into something resembling a donut. The dad busied himself perusing the case, then added, “And a coffee and one of those pecan scones, please.”
“Sure thing.” Seth couldn’t stop grinning, although he was doing his best to keep it a trifle less manic. A real customer and a real order, even if Seth was busting out a fake donut to make it happen.
“Slow day, huh?”
“I might be a pariah already.”
Seth said it cheerfully enough—his mood was picking up with this bit of human interaction—but he wasn’t exactly joking either. Had he offended the townspeople here without knowing it? Because as much as he didn’t mind a solitary kitchen when he was working, Seth needed balance. He simply wasn’t made to waste away in silence with only his own thoughts for company.
“Oh, no.” The dad rocked back on his heels. “They’re just waiting on the verdict.”
Seth paused in the act of placing the fake donut in a white paper bag. “Verdict from who, exactly?”
“I guess me, if I’m the first.” The dad rubbed a hand over his scruffy facial hair, ignoring the little creature tugging on his pant legs, clearly getting impatient with Seth’s slow pace.
“Let me just…” Seth snagged a croissant and a lemon bar, adding them to the bag. “On the house.”
The dad laughed, flashing white teeth. “You don’t need to bribe me. Even if I say it’s awful, they’ll start trickling in over the next few days. And on the weekends you’ll get traffic from the highway, folks on their way up to the islands. People like to stop here for coffee and a bite.”
“Really?” Seth sagged against the counter as he handed hisgoods over, relief making his bones weak. “You’re making me feel so much better.”
“I mean, be warned: itisa small community.” The dad broke off a piece of fake donut and placed it in his son’s grabby hands before reaching for his wallet.
“I like small communities,” Seth told him.
The small size of the town had been part of the appeal when Seth had chosen Pine Bluff for his big move. But he’d been operating on such a whim—and moving in such a hurry—that he hadn’t made as big a deal of his grand opening as might have been good for business. Seth had thought, since he’d been replacing another bakery, that he’d have a built-in customer base.
Apparently he should have won the locals over first.
“Moh!” the toddler cried, having consumed his bite in record time. Although, it appeared he had more crumbs around his mouth than whatever had actually made it inside. “Moh!”
The dad looked down at his son as Seth ran his payment. “What do you say?”
The toddler grinned, displaying four tiny front teeth. “Peez?”
Oh, lordy. Seth didn’t want any little chaos gremlins of his own right now, but he still melted, just a little. He was tempted to rush to the back and make a baker’s dozen of donuts right that second.
The dad gave his son another bite, tossing Seth a smile. “You have your first rave review, I think.” He held out a hand. “I’m Luke, and this is my son, Colby.”
Seth shook hands. “Nice to meet you.” So nice. The nicest.
Luke picked Colby up, juggling his coffee and bag of pastries in the other hand. Before they turned away, Colby reached out a small, pudgy hand, pointing to the cloth headband holding back Seth’s curls. “Piddy.”
