Chocolate Reality (5 page)

“I love the idea of a themed basket. I’ll just take a look around, and let you get back to work, thanks Wynne.” Stacey’s said as she walked away.

I have to admit that Stacey doesn’t seem too bad. I don’t know what I was expecting. In my head I had visions of the ‘unknown’ lady friend coming up to me and giving me a good ole’ chick slap, right across my face, in revenge for hurting her dearly beloved. She would walk away with refined dignity, and I would be left standing there, with a red cheek, feeling utter amazement and embarrassment. Not a pretty sight, and definitely not the type of daydream that I like to have.

It would be nice to be left in la-la land for a little while, just me and my own thoughts and weird daydreams, but I was rudely brought out of my reverie by an insistent voice that was mentioning my chocolate cake.

“Wynne, the perfect sight for the perfect morning. Look at that cake you made. It looks absolutely delicious. Do you think it’s too early to have a slice now? Oh and see the pretty little pink rosebuds. I would have to say that the cake-decorating course you took last year has definitely paid off. A beautiful showcase. Oh, and I’ll definitely plan on enjoy your Dreamy Swiss Mocha. Of course I will take a tin of it. Wherever did you find those tins? I love them. I think you should create a display of them and sell them. They would definitely be a hot item around here. You just know how much everyone loves these cute tins. Antique aren’t they? I think my mother used to have a bunch of these when I was just a wee little lass. Now those were the days. No frills, just plain honest hard work and simplicity. That’s what got us through the day. But then, I wasn’t allowed to have chocolate for breakfast either … so on that note, I think I will have a slice of your cake.” Joan said with a note of triumph to her voice.

“Joan, did you even take a breath during that whole speech?” I couldn’t help giggle just a teenie little bit.

“I found those tins at a garage sale. Aren’t they darling? Tell you what, just because you are my favorite customer, how about an extra big slice of cake? You’ll need it to get through the day, and you know that I pray all the calories out of these cakes while I’m making them.” I like to spoil Joan. She is one of my favorite Latte Ladies. Sometimes it doesn’t always hurt to treat someone as if they were just a little extra special, especially when it happens to be true.

“Well thank you my dear girl. You certainly know how to make one’s day. Now, I do believe that is Tracey I see over there sitting by herself this morning. I think she needs a good ole mama hug. Now don’t you be shaking your head. You can see that she is one hurting girl, and when the Lord told me to come over here this morning, I knew it was for a reason. That girl over there just needs to be reminded that she is loved.” With that, Joan took off over to Tracey.

Joan is one of those sweet women who go about each day fully trusting in God to lead her. She believes that God orders the steps of a righteous man or woman in her case, and she is determined to walk each step the way God would have her. Where I tend to just stand back and give them space when they have asked for it, Joan will just walk right into that space that they hold onto so dearly and give them a hug.

Stacey walks over to the counter with her arms full of items for her basket. I casually go through what she has picked and I have to admit, she has excellent taste. She went with a Kitchen theme. Hand soap, tarts and a tart burner, kitchen scented candles, homespun tea towels, a little plaque that has embroidered “Give us this day our daily bread” within it, coffee mug, white water pitcher and a box of chocolates.

“I like your selections Stacey. I think she will definitely like what you picked out. Not too overbearing, with some personal touches in there. I like it. Would you like me to arrange it and wrap it up?” I asked.

She shrugged her dainty shoulders.
“ I just tried to think of things my mom might like. I don’t want it to look like I’m trying to hard.”

After a bit of casual chitchat concerning the store, our love for chocolate, etc., just as Stacey is ready to leave, the bell above my door began to jingle. I had just bent down behind my shelf to retrieve a bag for the basket when I hear his voice.

“There you are. I thought maybe you had gotten lost on your walk and came to find you. I almost didn’t notice you from the window. Are you ready to go?” The voice belonged to, yep, you guessed it. Jude.

I take a deep breath. If I hid down here long enough, do you think they would just leave? Do I really have to stand up? I lift up my head, and all I see are four sets of eyes staring down on me.

“Here it is. I knew I had a bag down there large enough for your basket.” I nervously chattered away while trying to hide my embarrassment. This was not how I wanted to see Jude for the first time in over three years.

In my mind I had it played out that I might see him from a distance at church, or maybe walking down the street. We would casually say hi, how are you, nice to see you again, and continue on our way. I of course would look great, with my hair all done up nice, fresh lipstick on, clothes to show that I have lost weight since he was last here. Why can’t life actually be like my dreams?

“Jude, um, you’re here,” Oh why couldn’t I just have said hi.

“Hey Wynne.”

Well, wasn’t this awkward.

He looks great. Tall, still has a small frame, but it appears that he’s been working out, so he’s a bit more muscular. He still has those soft blue eyes that just make a girl want to daydream. He looks great in his tan sweater with dark blue jeans. He’s obviously still impartial to the cold weather since he has his coat slung over his arm. Where most people would be bundled up since it is winter, Jude used to just walk around in a thick sweater with a scarf wrapped around him. His arm is across Stacey shoulder, as if he’s trying to show that he’s taken, like that would really matter to me. They look great together though. I give a wistful sigh, and realize with a jolt that he is still talking to me while I’m daydreaming. Again.

“Welcome home,” I said. To make it appear like I did actual hear him, I threw out my arms in a wide arch. In the process of doing this, I remembered that I had just finished arranging a display of tins with the Swiss Mocha right beside me on the top of the display counter.

Before I could even begin to stop myself my one arm swept across the display case, catching the tins in the process. While I’m slowly moaning ‘oh no’, I watch the tins, as if in slow motion, topple from the counter onto the floor. One decides to become aerobic and bounces from the top of the pile, onto the counter, and then onto me. The bounce from the counter caused the lid to come off, allowing the mocha mix to escape the tin and converge onto my new black sweater.

Great, just great. I heave a big sigh, while trying to smile and not look embarrassed at the same time. I decide to take the graceful way out, and hand Stacey her bag, praying fervently under my breath that they will leave. Soon, like as in now.

Jude starts to laugh. Stacey begins to giggle. I just stand there, slightly dazed, when the humor of this situation hit me. I join in on the laughing. From the corner I hear Joan yelling “she’s at it again,” and from that moment on I’m lost. I have to grab the edge of the counter, I’m laughing so hard. An awkward situation becomes humorous. It’s all at my expense, but then, what else is new?

“It’s nice to know not all things have changed,” Jude manages to utter in between his laughs. He takes Stacey’s bag and leads her to the front door. As they are walking, Stacey calls out from over her shoulder.

“Wynne, it was certainly nice meeting you. A bit interesting maybe, but it was nice. Thanks so much,” she said as she waved her purse in the air. And with that they left me standing there not believing what had just occurred.

Chapter 5

The light blinked on my phone. A message. A part of me doesn’t want to listen to it.

“Hey girl it’s Tracey. It’s Friday night, kids are in bed, Mike is working on a sermon, and I’m in the mood for a chick flick. If I bring the movie and popcorn, will you supply the coffee, chocolate and blankets? Give me a call when you get in.” Beep. Whew. I’m not usually hesitant to listen to my messages, but with the way the past few days have been going, I have no idea who could be calling.

Watching a chick flick with a girlfriend is an excellent way to end the horrible day I had. After Jude and Stacey left the store, I had to endure teasing from Judy and Tracey. It’s bad enough that I felt utterly embarrassed, but to listen to others enjoy my humiliation was more than I could handle. After about ten minutes of their teasing, and repeating the story to new customers as they walked in, I ordered those two wisecrackers out of my store. I threatened to banish them if they repeated the story of my humiliation to one more person. I’m not sure if it worked or not, since they ended up leaving the store with tears of laughter rolling down their faces, but at least I felt better.

All day I had people who I thought were my friends come into the store. Not to offer me sympathy, but rather wanting more details.

Can you imagine? I don’t understand these people. The man I was about to marry, but ended up breaking his heart finally comes back into town after three years. My first time seeing him includes having to meet his new girlfriend and make a complete fool of myself.

That being said, I did end up selling a lot of product though, since I made everyone who needled me for details buy something from the store, whether it be chocolate, candles, or coffee. No one seemed to mind, which was good. After a long and tiring day, I just wanted to go home and relax. I dreaded the thought of having a full answering machine, thinking that those who didn’t come into the store would call wanting details, but thankfully, the only message was Tracey’s. But then, that’s small town life for you. No one is a stranger, and you always know when someone sneezed.

Before Tracey comes, I decided to indulge and make a pan of hot fudge brownies. These have become my absolute favorite, and something that I don’t make for the store. I realized about a year ago, I needed to keep some things sacred to only me. So smoothies, Pina Colada’s (made from home with no alcohol) and hot fudge brownies would be my prized possessions. I only share them with a few sacred friends. It’s been a while since Tracey and I have had one of those good ole chick nights, so I figured this is a special enough occasion to indulge ourselves.

With the Pina Colada mix ready and the beeper on my oven about to go off, the doorbell rings.

“Come on in,” I yell. “I’m in the kitchen.” I assume it is Tracey. The beeper on the oven goes off, so I hear a voice calling to me, but can’t quite understand the words.

“You’re just in time. Our drink is ready, and the brownies are fresh out of the oven warm. Now all we need is the popcorn, and our chick night can begin. What movie did you bring?” I began my monologue with my back turned to the doorway. I have my flannel pajamas on, with my “I’m so sexy” apron on and my big fuzzy pink princess slippers. With it being girls’ night, flannel and fuzzy slippers only seemed appropriate.

“Hmm, I don’t think a chick night is exactly my thing, but thanks anyways.” I froze. That voice did not belong to sweet, feminine Tracey. Instead, it was a deep and definitely masculine Jude. Once again, this is not the way that I wanted to see him. Not in flannels, apron and slippers. Not with me bending over my stove door, face flushed. I straightened up slowly, carefully placed the brownies onto my counter and tried to halfway compose myself.

“Um, no. Chick night definitely would not suit you. Sorry, I um, thought you were Tracey,” I apologized. Talk about embarrassment. If a hole could materialize and sweep me out of this kitchen right now, I’d claim it was a miracle.

“This is a nice place you have Wynne. It feels homey, and, well, you. It seems like you created what you always desired – a home,” said Jude while he glanced around my kitchen/dining area.

“Yes, I have done that. It’s not complete yet, but one day,” I said. To make my home complete, I desire to have my husband and lots of children fill it.

I was able to buy my dream home a few years ago. It is an older style home, complete with hard wood floors, old wood details around the door frames and windows, old furnace heaters in every room and wood sliding doors between my living room and dining area. It was a bit run down when I bought it, thus enabling me to get a good deal, but with a lot of work it’s amazing. I’ve decorated it with the sparse decore. A little bit of shabby chic meets the primitive look. It doesn’t suit everyone’s taste, but I love it. And it doesn’t hurt that a lot of my accessories comes from my store either.

“So Jude, what brings you by? Where is Stacey? Does she trust you alone with me?” Okay, okay, I admit there was a bit of sarcasm in that last comment. I should apologize, but I won’t.

“Be nice. I thought we should talk. As for Stacey, she knows where I am and why. I left her with mom going through those dreaded photo albums that all mothers seem to bring out at the wrong times. I needed to get out and thought to come over here. I hope you don’t mind me not calling first. Although,” and he is looking me up and down when he says this, “maybe I should have called first.”

Ya, think?

“Hey – it’s not my fault you caught me like this, and there’s nothing wrong with how I’m dressed. Tracey is coming by, and we’re having a girl’s night. Sorry, but no boys allowed,” I answered back.

“All right, I won’t stay, but can you spare a few moments to talk? There’s something I want to tell you, and I thought you should hear it from me first.” Oh no. Those dreaded words. Don’t they just send a shiver down your back when you hear them? He’s going to tell me he’s engaged. I just know it. And why it bothers me, I’m not sure, but it does. It does a lot.