Sweet Dreams (The Bakery Romance Series Book 3) (3 page)

She nodded, standing. “Yes, she should be.”

He covered the disposable aluminum container with foil, before pressing it into Misty’s hands. “You and Adrian can have the rest of the casserole.”

She accepted the container, smiling. “Thanks.” She placed the container on the table.

He cut a couple of slabs of cake. “You can take this, too.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. Too bad Jennifer isn’t here. She really loves sweets.”

He frowned, puzzled as he wrapped the cake slices in foil. “Jennifer? Who’s that?”

“Oh, Jennifer’s my daughter.”

“Your daughter?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t Adrian tell you that I have a two-and-a half year-old?”

He shook his head. “No, she didn’t mention that. Where is she?”

“Who, Adrian?”

He placed the slices of cake beside the casserole dish. “No, your daughter. Where is she? She’s not going to be living with you and Adrian?” He wondered if Misty refused to raise her daughter herself and had placed her into someone else’s care.

She pursed her lips, staring at her red-painted nails. “She’s with my mother right now.”

“So, your mom lives in Lehigh Acres, right?”

“Yes, I’ve been living with my mom forever. This is the first time I’m moving out on my own.”

He frowned, wanting to ask another question, but wondered if Misty would get offended. He might as well ask. “So you just left your daughter with your mom? Why in the world would you do that?”

Misty’s head snapped up and her jaw tensed. “What kind of a question is that?” Her tone filled with anger. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked the question after all.

“Well, there’s lots of grandparents in my church who’re raising their grandchildren and it’s really hard on them. Can you imagine running around after a two-year-old when you have a hard time getting around yourself?” He shook his head, pushing the food toward Misty. “Just makes me wonder about the responsibility of today’s young mothers.” He glanced at Misty. Her mouth was set in a hard line. “How old are you, anyway?” 

She turned away, not answering his question. He took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” But he did wonder about her leaving her child behind.

She stood, shoving her chair underneath his table, taking the food. “I think it’s time for me to leave.” She took the food and he opened the door for her. She practically ran across the street to Adrian’s house and he wondered if she’d ever appear at his door again. He shut the door, figuring it was probably best if she didn’t return. After all, who’d want a woman who wouldn’t even take care of her own child?

Chapter 4

Misty balanced the food on one arm and shoved Adrian’s door open with her free hand. She hurried into the kitchen, slamming the food on the table.

“Misty, is that you?”

Adrian sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea, her fingers skimmed over a piece of paper scattered with Braille bumps.

“Yes, it’s me.” She hugged Adrian before dropping into a chair, took a deep breath, and tried to calm down. “What are you reading?”

“It’s a letter from a local organization for the blind, inviting me to a special art event for blind people.”

“Are you going?”

Adrian shook her head while she pushed the paper away. “No. They usually have those events during the workday since most blind people are unemployed. I’m not going to take off from work to look at art.”  She sipped her tea.

“How are things going at your job?”

“Things are going okay.” Adrian worked as a computer programmer for the government. She was able to work by using a special Braille display hooked up to her computer. Misty recalled how Adrian had been out of work for years before she finally found a job. “I bumped into a box as soon as I walked into the house.”

Misty sighed, folding her arms in front of her chest. “I’m sorry.” She had to remember that Adrian was blind and that she had to be careful about where she put her things. “I should’ve placed all of the boxes into the spare bedrooms.”

“That’s okay.” Adrian opened a small china dish and spooned some sugar into her drink. She sniffed. “I smell tuna fish and cake. Did you bring food?”

She guided Adrian’s hand to the aluminum container. “Sterling sent over tuna casserole.”

Adrian chuckled. “That man loves sharing his food.”

“Whatever,” Misty grumbled.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighed, telling her about the recent conversation she’d had. “That man made me angry. He’s thinking that I’m some unfit mother who’s abandoning her child and it’s not like that.”

Adrian laughed. Walking toward the cupboard, she opened up the cabinet above the sink, removed a plate. She pulled flatware from the drawer. “Misty, you have such a fiery temper. Don’t let him upset you. Why didn’t you tell him about your situation?”

“Because it’s none of his business.”

After Adrian had dished up the casserole, she placed it into the microwave to warm. Misty watched her cousin press the Braille bumps that had been taped over the numbers on the microwave – she selected the time she wanted to heat her meal. “Well, you need to calm down. Besides, you have a few faults of your own. You’re nosy sometimes. I’ll bet you asked Sterling some questions that he didn’t want to answer.”

Misty glanced at her cousin while she warmed the food. “I guess I did,” she mumbled. “What happened to his face? He looked like he was in a bad fight.”

Adrian folded her arms in front of her chest. “He’s having some family trouble now and he was attacked by his drunken brother.”

Misty gasped. “My goodness. What were they fighting over?”

“In a nutshell? Money. That’s all I’m going to say because I don’t want to be spreading more information about Sterling’s business. Let’s talk about you. You could’ve simply told him that you need to start your new job and Jennifer’s new daycare didn’t have an opening for a couple of weeks, so you had to leave her with your mom until then.”

“Well, I don’t care what he thinks about me. I doubt I’ll be sharing any more dinners with him.”

“Don’t get so riled up.”

Misty grumbled. “It’s hard to stay calm after I’ve just been insulted about the way I’m raising my daughter.”

The microwave beeped and Adrian returned to the table with her heated food. “I’ve known a lot of single moms and you’re one of the best, most considerate mothers I’ve ever seen.”

Misty dipped her head, surprised at the praise. “Thanks.”

Adrian tasted her food. “But, you do go overboard with your daughter sometimes.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about your dream of enrolling her into Juliette’s.”

Juliette’s was an expensive, elite pre-school in Miami. Children were not eligible to enroll until they were three years old. A lot of the children who attended Juliette’s went on to impressive grammar schools, going on to Ivy League colleges. The application period was opening up soon. If accepted, Jennifer would become a student the following school year. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting the best education for my daughter.” Why couldn’t Adrian understand that?

“Honey, I know you want the best for your daughter, but, you need to be realistic. I visited the school’s website. Their tuition is astronomical. Only rich people go there. No way would you be able to afford that cost.”

Misty grunted. Adrian was always online, looking things up and reading news articles. She was able to do this using her special Braille display. “My daughter is just as good as those other kids. No reason why she can’t have the same opportunity as them.”

Adrian sighed, felt around the table until she found Misty’s hand. Misty figured her cousin was trying to calm her down. “Misty, your daughter is just as good as those other kids. I know that. But, you simply don’t have the money to pay that tuition. There are lots of other nice preschools in the area.” She didn’t care about those other schools. She only wanted what was best for her daughter. “How do you plan on paying that tuition if Jennifer is accepted?”

Misty hopped out of her chair. Adrian didn’t know about her most recent find. She found the box containing her important papers. She took out a folder and returned to the table. “I found some full scholarships that are available.” She removed a paper from the folder. “This scholarship shows the most promise. I think I have a good chance of winning this for Jennifer.”

Adrian sipped her tea, tilted her head. “Tell me more about it.”

“It’s called the Sarah Wilkins Scholarship.” In a rushed voice, Misty read the information to Adrian. “Sarah Wilkins was abandoned by her mom into the foster care system. She knew how hard it was for disadvantaged kids to be given a chance. Now one of the richest women in Miami, she offered several full-tuition scholarships for preschool and grammar school children.” She paused for a few seconds. “It lists the schools for which a full scholarship is offered and Juliette’s is one of them.” Misty’s voice raised, her vision for her daughter showing promise.

Adrian shook her head, took another bite of casserole. “I’m sure the competition for those scholarships is pretty stiff.”

“But, Adrian, I haven’t told you everything yet. The Sarah Wilkins scholarship is only offered to children who are being raised my single mothers.”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of single mothers out there vying for those spots.”

“I agree, but not just any single mom can apply.” She continued reading the brochure to Adrian. “After being released from the foster care system at eighteen, Sarah Wilkins was homeless and she’d gotten her fair share of meals from soup kitchens. In order to apply for the scholarship, the single mother has to go above and beyond for her community by putting in weekly hours in a soup kitchen. Even after the scholarship has been awarded, the single mom still has to volunteer regularly at a food-based service. The single mom is expected to continue her community service during the duration of the scholarship.”

Adrian stopped eating. At least she’d gotten her attention. “Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been volunteering at the soup kitchen in Lehigh Acres for the last year. The director has already agreed to write me a letter, attesting to that fact, when I apply for this scholarship. I figure once I get Jennifer and get her used to Miami and her new daycare, I can find a soup kitchen in Miami and simply volunteer there.” Adrian quietly continued eating. “What’s wrong? Adrian, you know how much this means to me. You know what happened to me when I was a kid…” She sniffed, the awful memories invading her mind. “You know—” She couldn’t stop the choked emotion in her voice.

Adrian reached over, felt around until she touched Misty’s arm. “I know. I really hope Jennifer is accepted into Juliette’s and that you get the scholarship. But, I know how you are Misty.”

She swiped her tears away. “What do you mean?” she asked in a small voice.

“You tend to put all of your eggs into one basket. You get your mind set on one thing and go after it. Then, when things don’t go your way, you get upset. Look at how long you were depressed when things didn’t work out with knuckle-headed Nate.”

Why’d she have to go and mention Jennifer’s father? “I don’t want to talk about Nate.”

“Okay, but, do me a favor. Think and pray about this. I encourage you to apply for enrollment in the school and for the scholarship, but, ask the Lord to guide you, ask Him to let you know what to do if things don’t go your way this time.”

When Misty finally went to bed, she thought about Adrian’s advice. She was still getting used to asking for God’s guidance, and she figured it would take time to lean on Him for all of her problems. She then found herself wondering about the man across the street. It’s made her so mad when he’d implied she was a bad mom. She’d prove him wrong once Jennifer was back in her care.

*

Sterling got out of his car and strolled down the sidewalk, the Miami heat surrounded him like a dense cloak. Too early for rush-hour traffic, the streets were deserted. He relished the peaceful calm of the hot early morning. Unlocking the door, he entered the bakery and turned the ceiling fan on.

He blinked, welcoming the brisk air that now cooled his heated skin.

“Hey, man.” Eddie, a teenager he’d hired through a youth outreach program, entered the bakery, the bell tinkled as he stepped into the room. Eddie assessed Sterling with his dark eyes, his cocoa-brown face full of concern. “Man, you look beat.”

Sterling wiped his hands over his face. “I am. It’s been a lousy night.” He glanced at the clock. It was four thirty and they had an hour to get the donuts ready. He eyed the empty shelves and empty tables. In a couple of hours tasty donuts and pastries would fill the display and morning commuters would populate the tables, sipping coffee and eating their morning meal. He went into the back and turned on his laptop. Minutes later, he checked the orders that had been logged onto the system that day. “Eddie, you can get started on the donuts. I’ve got a lot of birthday cake orders to fill today so I’m going to get started on those.”

Eddie put on his apron and hair net. “Okay.”

Sighing, he went into the kitchen, washed his hands. Blinking rapidly, trying to stay awake, he mixed flour, sugar, eggs, butter, and chocolate into a huge bowl. After mixing awhile, he added a dollop of sour cream, his secret ingredient. Watching the white cream being enfolded into the batter, he recalled his father’s deep gruff voice, stating sour cream made the cake moist and delicious. After he’d added the rest of the ingredients, he poured the batter into the pans and placed them into the hot oven.

He then plopped some dough onto the counter. He pulled his rolling pin from the cabinet. After scattering flour over the dough, he rolled it into a large rectangle. Once it was the perfect size, he measured sugar, cinnamon and nuts into a large bowl. The previous day, they’d run out of cinnamon rolls. He needed to be sure to make a double batch that morning. While he scattered the sugar concoction over the raw dough, the heartwarming scent of chocolate suddenly filled the bakery. Thoughts of the previous evening’s events now filled his mind.

Starting at one end, he rolled the dough into the shape of a log. He cut the log into neat even circles and lined a clean pan with the freshly cut raw buns. He’d let them rise before baking them. He plopped another mass of dough onto the counter, still plagued about the events from the previous night. He just didn’t know what to do about his messed-up life.
Lord, help me.
Determined to patch things up with his brother, he’d visited Leon, not surprised when he’d found his sibling intoxicated again. A pretty woman clung to Leon’s arm while Sterling stood in the living room, wishing his brother would learn to control himself. He’d never seen the woman before so he assumed that Leon had found a new girlfriend.

He’d tried talking to Leon, but he couldn’t get his brother to see reason. Disgusted, he’d left, decided to approach Leon again when he was sober. The way things were between them weighed heavy on his heart. He wished there was something he could do to make things better.

The sad part was, he’d been praying really hard about his situation with Leon, and so far, the Lord had not given him any wisdom about his brother. He’d tossed and turned all night, worrying about the awful visit with Leon. His mind and body were loaded with fatigue, and Eddie’s movements in the adjoining room slowly faded and Sterling blinked and the room swayed. He had to sit down. His sleepless nights were catching up to him. He abandoned the cinnamon rolls and stumbled back into his office. He plopped into a chair and closed his eyes. He’d have a huge cup of strong coffee after his short nap.

“Sterling!”

He opened his eyes, spotting the stream of smoke tumbling from the oven. An acrid chocolate scent filled the kitchen. He jumped from the chair, placed the mitts on his hands and pulled the burned chocolate cakes from the oven.

“What happened?” Eddie stared at the burnt cakes.