“Hey, Ma,” I called out as I pulled our front door open and headed inside.
Thank God today was over; it’d been one of the longest days at work in a long time. We’d had lots of sick pets come in for emergency care, not to mention a couple of asshole customers. Scott Cole flashed through my mind as I thought of the assholes. Yeah, I’d totally memorised his name when he filled in his cat’s paperwork. He was freaking hot; how could I not remember his name? But he wouldn’t pass my checklist. What checklist, you might ask. The one I’d written after the last guy I dated cheated and lied his way through our three year relationship. That checklist. The one that forbade me to even look at a guy who oozed sex the way Scott did. I also didn’t do guys who had a temper like his, guys who didn’t love animals as much as I did, and I preferred single men with no children. Kids weren’t a complete no go for me, but I could do without the added baggage. Oh, and not to forget the fact that he was a biker. I liked my men a little rugged but that was taking it to the extreme in my opinion. Never having met a biker before, I couldn’t be sure, but the image I had in my mind was that of a chauvinistic, domineering man who couldn’t commit to one woman. So, Scott was off limits. I mean, what kind of pet owner wouldn’t bring their pet to the vet as soon as it got sick? Not the kind of man I wanted to date.
“I’m in the kitchen,” my mother called out. I smiled; it was a good sign when she was in the kitchen after a day at work in a kitchen.
I found her a minute later, arm deep in dough. “You’re making bread!” I loved her bread, as did lots of other people. My mum was renowned for her bread making skills. People from all over Brisbane flocked to her café to satisfy their desire for it. Well, they used to anyway. These days her café wasn’t doing so well; it was the reason I’d recently moved back home with her. She needed help financially to keep her business afloat, so I’d come home to help her out. I now divided my time between my part time job at the vets and working with mum in her café. Besides, after I’d kicked that cheating asshole to the curb, leaving my life in Gympie behind hadn’t been a hard thing to do. A fresh start was just what I needed.
She paused and looked up at me, her nose coated in flour and a look of total happiness on her face. When she broke out in a huge smile, my spirit soared. I hadn’t seen her smile like that since I’d come home, and that had been three months ago. Watching my mother going through the motions of life but not feeling it had been a hard thing to do.
“I’m making bread,” she said, simply, but there was nothing simple about that statement. Those three words told me so much more than just the fact she was making bread. This kitchen, and that bread was her happy place; a place she hadn’t been in for too long.
I placed my handbag and keys on the kitchen table before making my way to the kettle to make a coffee. Mum’s kitchen was huge with a big island bench in the centre where she did all her cooking. One side of the bench had stools and I pulled one out and sat on it after I put the kettle on.
“So, you had a good day. What happened?” I placed my elbows on the counter and rested my chin in my palms as I waited to hear what had brightened her day.
“A couple of restaurants placed standing orders for cakes today, and I picked up a stack of wedding cake orders too.”
The other thing my mother was known for? You guessed it, cakes. They were to die for and I’d always been surprised that she didn’t sell more than she did. I’d spent the last couple of weeks marketing her cakes to local businesses and it looked like my work was paying off.
“That’s great. You’ll have to teach me how to make some of these cakes so that I can help you with the orders.”
“Pfft, you don’t need teaching. I already did that while you were growing up. Your baking skills are as good as mine, love.”
“So, we’re going to be busy making cakes. I really should try to find a night job so that I can work with you every day rather than at the vet’s.”
“Well, you know how I feel about you working there. That man treats you so badly and expects you to put up with a lot from his customers.” My mother didn’t like my boss and had tried many times to get me to quit my job, but I’d been looking for another job and there just wasn’t anything out there at the moment. I needed a part time job to help my mum pay the bills; working full time in her café just wasn’t financially possible yet.
“I know, Mum. I’m looking, I promise.” The kettle boiled and I hopped up to make coffee for us both.
“Good,” she said, as she continued to knead the dough. “Now, tell me about your day.”