Jasmine sighed in surrender. “It was Katie. She was worried about you.”
Kyra shook her head. “Katie has enough on her plate without worrying about me. I hope you told her that.”
“Of course I did.” Jasmine smiled. “But you know how it is. You’re too cute not to worry about. So, when Katie says she can’t help herself, I have to believe her.” She reached over and pinched Kyra’s cheek. It was a gesture that Kyra always pretended to hate, but she secretly kind of loved that her mother still found her cute.
“Mom!” she said in an almost childish voice.
Her mother gave her a playfully stern look. “Be less cute, and I’ll stop.”
Kyra couldn’t help laughing. No matter what, her mother could always brighten her day, and Katie knew that as well as Kyra did. That must have been why she called. “I’m sorry you had to get up early for me,” Kyra said. “It was just Lacey being Lacey, and I let it get to me.”
Jasmine shook her head while she shaped another loaf of dough. “That girl. Doesn’t she know making other people miserable will do nothing to improve her own situation?”
“I don’t know. She seems pretty happy with her life, honestly,” Kyra admitted. “I’m the one who’s dissatisfied.”
Jasminetskedat her daughter. “Silly girl. Don’t you know? No one’s completely satisfied with their life. That’s the nature of life. People like Lacey are just lying to themselves about it. They think if they can convince everyone else that their lives are perfect, then they’ll be able to convince themselves, too. You cantell that Lacey girl is miserable and always has been. I feel sorry for her, really. When she looks at someone like you, someone who’s genuine and honest and easy to love, she gets green with envy and feels like she has to tear you down. But it’s all an act.”
“I guess I fell for it then.” Kyra measured out another batch of flour for her mother. After all these years, the action was automatic. There should have been something comforting about how easy this was, and how, no matter what happened, the bakery would always be here for her. But Kyra had always wanted to explore other aspects of life. More than anything, she wanted life to surprise her.
While having life laid out in neat and predictable rows may have been desirable and comforting to some, Kyra only saw the bars of a cage. But how could she admit such a thing to her mother, who had fought so hard for the business she intended to hand down to her daughter? No, it would only hurt her mom to hear these thoughts, and that was the last thing Kyra wanted to do. Instead, she said, “It was just a stupid baby shower. I shouldn’t have let it get to me. Honestly, I’m so lucky, and I know that. Lots of people would love to be in my shoes.”
Jasmine cocked her head and gave her daughter a meaningful look. “But, honey, they’re your shoes. No one has to wear them but you. So, if you’re not comfortable in them, why not find another pair that fits you better?”
Kyra’s eyes snapped up to see her mother casually rolling out dough like she hadn’t just said something world-shattering to her own daughter. Suddenly, Kyra wished they weren’t talking in metaphors. She had to be sure. “Mom?” she said quietly. “Who would run the bakery?”
Jasmine laughed. “I’m capable of hiring more staff when I get too old, you know. You can keep the bakery or sell it when I’m gone. Don’t let it limit you, honey. I’d never want that for you. Your happiness is so much more important than one business. Don’t ever convince yourself otherwise.”
Kyra almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and in such a casual tone, too. She felt like an obedient dog whose leash had been suddenly removed. She had no idea which direction she should run in, so she just stood there, mouth agape.
“Something wrong?” Jasmine asked when Kyra failed to respond.
“No,” Kyra quickly answered. “No. I just never thought of it like that before.”
Jasmine pulled a steaming sheet of buns out of the industrial-sized oven and set them out to cool before throwing another batch in. “Why not?” Jasmine asked in all seriousness.
Kyra shrugged. “I… don’t know.”
“Hmm.” Jasmine washed the flour off her hands and dried them before beckoning for her daughter to follow her to the dining room. “Bring a scone and some coffee. Let’s chat.”
“Don’t we have more to do before we open, though?” Kyra asked.
“Nah. I got here early and took care of most of it. I want to chat with my daughter.” Jasmine led Kyra out to the dining area and took two chairs down from one of the round tables.
The bakery’s dining area hadn’t changed much in the last ten years, so it was more than familiar to Kyra, who tended to view it as a second home. The color scheme was especially feminine, with pinks and pastel splashes here and there. The lighting wassoft and the curtains properly frilly. Jasmine had always been unashamedly girly, which was something Kyra admired about her. Even when it wasn’t in fashion, Jasmine was never untrue to herself. What she loved, she loved, and she attracted quite a few customers with her genuine nature.
No one had any doubt that the Jasmine they saw behind the counter at the bakery was the Jasmine they would meet in the streets of Alder Creek. It was a trait Kyra intentionally adopted from her mother. When she was a child, Jasmine would often say to her, “If you don’t pretend to be someone you’re not, then you never have to worry about whether your act is believable.” And Kyra had taken it fully to heart. Since then, her mother’s advice was always invaluable, so Kyra was eager to sit and hear it now.
The two sat comfortably, sipping coffee and enjoying fresh scones in a quiet, empty bakery. With such a peaceful and comforting atmosphere, Kyra almost wondered why the thought of staying in this business for the rest of her life troubled her at all.
“Tell me what happened,” Jasmine said after Kyra had made herself comfortable at the table. “I want to know everything.”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Kyra began, but one look from her mother told her it was useless to minimize the whole thing. Finally, she decided to be honest about what had been said that upset her at that baby shower, and why it got to her. After she finished explaining, she admitted, “I wish there was a little more to my life, I guess. I feel like I’ve been in the same place for so long, and there’s no forward momentum, you know? It’s not that I’m not grateful?—”
“Oh, I know that,” Jasmine interrupted to reassure her daughter. “Believe me. You leave no room for doubt when it comes to gratitude.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Kyra said, bowing her head a little. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way. But if there’s a chance I’m supposed to be doing something else with my life, how am I ever going to find out by doing the same thing every day, never going anywhere else, never trying anything new?”
Jasmine nodded and sipped her coffee like they were on a mother-daughter brunch rather than sitting in an unopened bakery before five in the morning. “The thing about destiny,” she said with a quick smile, “is it tends to take you where you need to be, regardless of your own ideas. I’ve always thought that, to find your destiny, you have to be willing to risk something, do what scares you, step out a bit. So, here’s my advice. The next opportunity that intrigues you, take it. Never mind the bakery. It’ll still be here if things go south. Take a risk. Jump at the chance to change something big.”
