The realization was like a swift punch to the gut. Lizzy had thought it was bad before, but this… there was no coming back from this. Hank held a lot of sway, almost as much as Marv, and to get on his bad side was to face social ostracism.
Mrs. Bennet came flying out of the back room, her phone to her ear. “No one is picking up. None of the book club ladies. Not Barb or Nancy. Not even Donna!”
“It’s okay,” Lizzy said, working to keep her voice level. “Once Dad gets to the city, we’ll know—”
“Oh, I already know!” Their mother dropped her phone onto the table between Kitty and Lydia, making them both jump. “I know everything. Your sister screwed us! Absolutely destroyed our lives!”
Lizzy was about to try to soothe her, assure her that they’d find a way to keep the bakery afloat, but then her mother continued.
“Weeks of work and preparation!” she cried. “I learned how to sew for this! I have a thousand ounces of rhinestones and two hundred yards of Lycra in the basement, and for what?”
Lizzy’s jaw clenched. “Mom.”
“While she’s off trying to save the world, did she even think for one minute about allmyhard work? My sweat and my tears and mynerves—”
“MOM,” Lizzy repeated. “I’m pretty sure we have more important problems than your leggings.”
“Oh really? You think so?” Mrs. Bennet’s voice had hit a frantic octave, so her sarcastic tone came out wobbly and manic. “Well, maybe they’re not important to you, but they’re important to me. I had things in motion, and now”—the bakery phone began to ring in the office—“I’m left with nothing. Nothing! Did any of you think of that?”
“Mom,” Jane said, her tone suddenly the same one she used in her classroom full of six-year-olds. In the back, the office phone was still ringing. “I know you think—”
“Don’t tell me what I think!” Mrs. Bennet wailed.
The phone kept ringing, an incessant clangor that was shredding Lizzy’s patience.
“Lydia,” Lizzy said, turning to her sister. “Go see who that is.”
“Why can’t we just let the machine get—”
“Go.” Lizzy rarely let her voice get so stern. Lydia’s eyebrows bobbed up before she stomped off to the back office.
Lizzy brought her attention back to her mother. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Oh really? Would you rather we talk about tomorrow’s bread orders? Or how many muffins we’ve sold today? Because I cantell you right now that both are zero, Lizzy. Absolutely zero!” Another cry.
Lydia’s head popped out of the doorway to the back. “Lizzy?”
She ignored her. “I know it’s bad, Mom. Which is why we need to focus on—”
“Don’t tell me what to focus on!” her mother shrieked.
“Lizzy,” Lydia called to her again.
“Do you want to see the order I just put in for zippers?” Her mother picked up her phone again, her acrylic nails tapping on the glass as she unlocked it. “Who’s paying for that, Lizzy? Who?”
“Lizzy!” Lydia yelled.
Lizzy whipped around to glare at her sister. “What?”
“There’s a call for you.”
Lizzy stilled as her heart tumbled down to her stomach. Everyone she knew had her cell number. Everyone except Will.
“Who is it?” she asked.
Lydia shrugged. “I don’t know. Some woman.”
The disappointment was potent. She turned away, swallowing it down as she waved her sister away. “Take a message.”
