“She said it was okay, but that she was going to steer clear of him.” I shrug.
“That should be interesting.” Hailey laughs.
“Are you guys ready to help? This thing starts in five minutes, and there are already people walking around,” I say.
Riley and Hailey nod, and we walk behind the display table. Riley is overseeing the handling of the money, Hailey is going to help put desserts in small boxes and bags, and I’ll be writing down how many items we sell while telling the customer about what the desserts are.
“Alright, here we go!” Riley exclaims.
* * *
Two hours later, it feels like we are moving non-stop. There is a continuous line of people coming to buy what I’ve made, and I’ve had so many people ask if I have a business card or if I am opening my own bakery here in Dove Point.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so much and I had to drink so much water due to how much I’ve been answering questions and having conversations, making my mouth dry. Every time someone asks if I’ll be opening a bakery, I honestly don’t know how to answer. I’ve given many different answers that range from,Yeah, probably, to,I’m not sure, to,No, I’m sorry.
“Honey! Ellie!” My mom yells out, her hand popping out from the crowd in a wave.
I see her walking up to my table with Dad, hand in hand, looking so cute together. My mom is beaming from ear to ear, unable to hold her excitement for me. She’s dragging my dad, telling him to pick up the pace.
“Hi, guys!” I ran around the table to hug them in greeting.
My mom wraps her arms tightly around me, embracing me and telling me how proud she is of me. “So, how much have you sold so far?” she asks after pulling me from her.
“I have no idea. A lot. I lost count. I thought I overdid it with the amount I made of each item, but I think it was the right call. Sorry you didn’t see me for like, a week. I was holed up in Rowan’s kitchen. Did I tell you how amazing his kitchen is? He had to drag me out of there from time to time because I wouldn’t leave. He would force me to sit and then make me lunch and dinner. It did help that he had everyone come over and help with the final additions.” I take a breath.
Mom smirks. “Good. That’s what someone does when they love someone.”
“What do you have left?” Dad peers at the table behind me, his tall frame hovering over both me and my mom.
I look back to the table where Hailey and Riley are still helping customers who keep showing up.
“We’ve sold out of the cinnamon rolls, considering I only made fifty of those.” I look back at them.
“Fifty? How on earth did you do that?” Dad asks in shock.
My expression falls, and I tilt my head. “Dad, I do this professionally. Did I ever tell you about the event I worked at where I had to make six hundred crème brûlées? That is something I never, ever want to do again. You could offer me a million dollars, and I would gladly say no. I did, however, make five hundred mini tarts and mini cheesecake bites. Along with two hundred cookies and Oreo balls.”
My parents’ gape at the numbers I just threw out at them. Considering I chose pastries that were very easy to make in large batches, it didn’t feel like I was making six hundred crème brûlées. I would make a thousand cookies over that any day.
“Come on.” I gesture with a tilt of my head toward the table. “I’ll see what we have left, and you can take what you want.”
“Not for free,” Riley utters while taking a glimpse at my parents.
“Riley,” I say sternly.
“What? I know they’re your parents, and I love them like they’re my own, but this is no exception. We are here to make money, Ellie.” Riley looks at my parents. “Mr. And Mrs. Thompson, I love you, but no. Cough up the money.” She holds out her hand.
“Gladly,” Dad exclaims. “I would never take things from my daughter for free.” His lips curve into a smile.
“Great, here you go.” Riley gives them two cookies, two mini tarts, and two mini cheesecake bites. “That will be twenty-six dollars.”
My dad’s eyebrows lift quickly. Riley stares back at him. He takes out his wallet and gives her his card. She smiles genuinely and packs the goodies she picked for them.
“Enjoy!” she says cheerfully, handing them the little bag that has a Honey Cakes logo.
My mom grabs the bag and looks at the name. “Did you come up with the name yourself?”
“I did.” I feel proud of myself for something so small, like a name.
