Page 35 of Coveted By the Bear

“Hey Bernard,” I said after I had marched through the front door, directly ignoring the obnoxious ding of the bell that announced my arrival.

Bernard looked up in shock, his hazel eyes widening at my direct greeting.

“Hey, Mira. What can I do for you?”

“Wanted to know if you were hiring. I can do anything, and whatever I don’t know, I can learn. I can even help Leona in the kitchen if you need it.”

Bernard opened and closed his mouth and opened it again. He looked like a fish out of water. “Sorry Mira, but we ain’t hiring right now. It’s a small store, and we have it covered between Leona and me.”

He must have seen my face drop because he looked around, leaned forward, and lowered his voice. “Look, I wish I could help you out. If we had a spot for you, the job would be yours. I heard about someone hiring around here. She’s new in town, but an odd bird, so I don’t know if you’ll even want to work for her. Name’s Nelson. Opal Nelson, and she’s opening up a pie shop at the end of the street. She’s been having trouble finding help, or at least that’s what I hear. Maybe go talk to her.”

I smiled at his kindness and thanked him before I left.

Main Street was undoubtedly charming. It was lined on both sides with small stores and buildings with front porches and rocking chairs for passersby. While most of the buildings were painted quaint and subdued colors that looked picture-perfect paired with white trim and hanging flower baskets, the house on the end of the street was quite different. It was red. Not a subtle red, but lady-of-the-night lipstick red. The white trim only served to make the color look bolder. A huge Grand Opening banner was draped across the front of it in the loudest and tackiest font I had ever seen, each letter drawn in a different neon color. Headache inducing, if one looked at it for too long. It was a small, two-story building with a front porch and a balcony off the second floor. Small, two-person tables were set up on both levels and across the top story were the words Main Street Pie & Candy Co. in white paint. I eyed the front door warily as I read Get Yer Buns in Here across the window pane. A tiny picture of two butt-like cinnamon rolls had been painted right beside the signage.

I straightened my shirt and walked in. What else did I have to lose?

“Hello?” I called out. The room was well lit but no one could be seen. It smelled devastatingly good. Like fresh baked fruit pies, chocolate, and homemade bread.

“In here,” a feminine voice called. “Come through the kitchen.”

A glass display case took up most of the length of the main room, and it was minimally filled with a couple of cakes and a basket of French rolls. I had never actually seen anything from France, but the tiny sign in front of the basket said so. To the side of the glass was a counter that could be lifted. It creaked loudly as I entered the kitchen area, the obvious source of the rich smells. I heard a rustling sound in the back and followed it until I came to a small storage room.

The smallest woman I’d ever seen was standing precariously on a step ladder, reaching for a box of goods her too-short arms would never find purchase on.

I rushed to help her and pulled a box of cake decorating utensils down.

“Thanks, sugar tits. Put it in the kitchen, if you don’t mind.”

The way she spoke was confident and shocking. I liked her.

“If you’re here for the grand opening, I’m afraid you are a day too soon,” the older woman said, following behind me directly.

“Oh, no, ma’am. I’m here to see if you’re hiring.”

“You are? I mean, you are. Well, can you bake?”

“I’ve been cooking for myself since I was a little kid. Haven’t done much baking, but not for lack of wanting. I’m a quick learn, though.”

The woman grinned up at me from ear to ear. Her smile was infectious and I laughed. “Name’s Opal,” she said.

“Mira,” I offered.

“When can you start?”

“Whenever you need me.”

“Good. Put on an apron. You don’t have anywhere to be today, do you?”

I stiffened in shock. I was employed. A tiny pessimistic part of me thought it would never happen. My happiness was quickly stamped out by an inconvenient guilt.

I sighed. “Ms. Opal. You are new in town and just starting your business. I don’t know if I would be the best fit for you.”

“Well child, why ever not?”

“People around here think I’m crazy. Or a witch.”

“Are you?”