And we’ve only known each other for a few months.
My heart is so full.
“Claire, what happens if you run out?” Lennon asks.
“Oh, I won’t. I made tons,” I say. “Practically had to take out a second loan.” I chuckle to myself, but they all stare at me blankly.
I frown. “What’s wrong?”
Miles pushes open the door that leads into the main space. “This is what I wanted to show you.”
Out the front windows, I see a line of people, three across, stretching past where I can see down the block.
For a second, I’m confused. “What are they all doing?”
Behind me, Lorraine laughs. “Waiting for you to feed them.”
I spin and face her. “Are they all here for the bakery?”
“Yep. All here for you,” Miles says.
“We have a sandwich board to put out front,” Zoey says, pointing at it. “It’s got all your social accounts listed so people can tag you and spread the love.”
“So, again I ask,” Lennon says, “what happens if you run out?”
I spin around to face them. “I’m going to run out.”
“Good thing you know the owner,” Miles chips in.
“I printed up tickets,” Zoey says. “In a few minutes, we’re going to go out and give one to each person. We’ll collect them and make sure nobody comes back for seconds.”
“I didn’t even think of that,” I say.
“I know. I’m awesome.” Zoey wags her eyebrows and grins.
“You’re the baker,” Miles says to me. “We took care of some of the other stuff so you could bake.”
I have friends. They feel like family. And they all showed up.
I look at Miles, tilt my head down and smile, and say, “Let’s get to work.”
And work we did.
We finished all the last-minute prep, handed out tickets to the people in line, and then, right at 10:00 a.m., I opened the door andwalked outside. When they saw me, everyone standing in line cheered—loudly—and the noise grew as more people realized why it was happening.
Zoey filmed the whole thing.
Ava came out with a tray of baked goods and moved through the crowd. I introduced myself to countless people, shook dozens of hands, and felt a little out of place with so much attention.
But as I stand now, at the end of the day, encircled by everyone who helped, I can’t help but think of the connections I made.
One woman told me she saw one of my videos and it inspired her to get back to doing what she loves—ceramics. And another woman grabbed my hands and said that she was going through a terrible divorce, but seeing me gave her hope that one day, she would be okay. I told her to come back if she ever needed a friend.
I met a foursome of older people who made a pact to come back for the grand opening. And a guy who confessed he was trying to figure out how to ask out a woman a little bit ahead of him in the line.
This story—my story—and my little bakery were already connecting people, and The Porch wasn’t even officially open yet.
Invitations for the grand opening went out to everyone we met. I was interviewed by six different Chicago-based influencers—two of whom review new restaurants around the city—and I directed three different people to the lemonade stand for autographs with Lorraine, who I suspect is a big part of why this crowd showed up in the first place.
