John Fairweather, owner of Fairweather Bakery, met Brenna at the door at five fifty five the next morning.

“Good morning, Brenna,” he said as he let her into the shop.

“Morning.”

“You seem awfully awake for six o’clock.”

She smiled and moved towards the backroom. “Walking here will do that to you.”

“I suppose so. Can I get you to help Catherine bring out all the baked food?”

“Sure.” Brenna put away her things and then helped John’s wife, Catherine, transfer all the freshly baked food into the main part of the shop. The bakery opened at six thirty and it was soon full of all the regulars that stopped by for breakfast and a coffee before heading to Memphis for work.

She had worked at the bakery for three years and knew all of the customers. Unlike a lot of people, she didn’t mind her job. She liked baking and the people she was around all day were always nice.

At two o’clock, she was done work for the day and left the bakery with a bag of leftover muffins from the day before. They made all their baked goods fresh each morning so whatever was left from the day before was free for her to take. She usually brought leftovers to Lynn since she fed her almost every night. Lynn had always had a thing for poppy seed muffins so Brenna had grabbed a few of those along with other kinds to take to her.

When she reached the Harlesses house, she tested the front door and found it unlocked. She let herself in and slid off her shoes on the front mat.

“Lynn?” she called as she took a few steps into the house.

“She’s not here.”

Brenna stopped and turned to her left to where the family room was. Justin was sprawled out on the couch, a large blanket over top of him. “Oh. Um, where is she?”

“Went to get groceries.”

“Oh. Well I just came to drop this off, but, uh, can you just tell her I came by?”

“You don’t have to leave,” he said. “She’ll be back in like fifteen minutes probably.”

“Oh. Uh, okay.”

He picked up a remote and turned off the television. “I don’t think I can watch anymore TV anyways.”

Figuring that was her cue, she cautiously went more fully into the room and sat on the edge of the love seat.

“What’s that?” he asked, gesturing to the bag in her hands.

“Muffins.”

“From where?”

“Fairweather Bakery. I work there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

His eyes returned to the bag. “What kind of muffins?”

“Um…poppy seed, blueberry, apple spice.”

“Can I have a blueberry?”

She was a little surprised but opened up the bakery box and pulled out a blueberry muffin. Standing up, she went over and handed it to him.

“Thanks. Are you allowed to just take these or do you have to pay for them?”

“I can take whatever I want from the day before. They bake everything fresh each day so they’d throw it out otherwise.”

He took a bite of the muffin. “It’s good. Do you bake them?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah…” She let out a small sigh. This was just uncomfortable. Her eyes looked anywhere but Justin. At the turned off television, books on the shelves, the small stain on the carpet by the couch where it looked like Justin had knocked over a glass of juice.

Lynn is not going to be happy…

“So how’ve you been?”

His question startled her a bit and her gaze jumped to him. “What?”

“How have you been doing?” he repeated a little slower.

“Oh. I’ve, uh…I’m fine. I’ve been fine.”

“Do you still live with your parents?”

Her stomach dropped a bit. Why did he have to ask… “I still live with my mom.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something but then suddenly clamped it shut and the expression on his face changed. “Oh shit. I forgot. I’m sorry about your dad.”

She looked away from him. “Me too.”

It was silent for a minute and she reached up a hand to rub her temples.

“Do you have a headache? I have aspirin here.” Justin gestured to the coffee table in front of him that was littered with pill bottles. “Along with every other possible drug or vitamin you could ever need.”

She smiled a bit and shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“So who around here do you still hang out with?”

And why did he have to ask that? “Um…most people moved away after high school to go to university in Memphis.”

“Yeah, a lot of people usually do I guess.”

“Yeah.”

“But there’s got to still be some young people around here.”

“There’s a few, I guess.”

“Does Kyle Shepel still live here?”

“No. Memphis.”

“Um…Michelle Krantz?”

“No.”

“Marty Roberts of Jake Murphy?”

“Yeah, both of them. I’m not really friends with them though.”

“Oh.”

“Did you know Annie Young?” she asked, desperately wanting him to stop asking her questions. “Me and her were friends in high school.”

“Yeah, I kind of remember that name. She’s in Memphis?”

“Yeah. She got married last year.”

“So do you talk to her a lot?”

“Not a lot.”

“So who do you hang out with?”

“Do you ever think about how sad it is that your only real friend around here is someone old enough to be your mom?”

She flinched a bit as Jake’s words replayed in her mind. Why couldn’t Justin just drop it? She wanted to just make up someone but at the same time knew that if he mentioned it to Lynn, she wouldn’t know what he was talking about and then Brenna would look extremely pathetic making up people she was friends with.

“Did you see that stain?” she asked, trying to somewhat subtly change the subject.

Justin looked down to where she was pointing. “Aw, shit. Mom’s gonna kill me.”

“I can go get a towel,” she offered, standing up. She left the room quickly, relieved to temporarily be out of the conversation. She could only hope that he’d leave it alone when she went back.

Grabbing a towel from the kitchen, she wet it with warm water and then went back to the living room. She went over to the couch and knelt down on the carpet by the stain.

“Thanks,” Justin said. “I really didn’t want to get up.”

She pressed the towel on the stain. “No problem.”

“You wouldn’t believe what mono does to you. I barely have enough energy to stand up, let alone walk anywhere. I’m dreading when I gotta go to the bathroom.

“How’d you catch it?

At times she really wish she thought about things before she said them. Stupid, Bren. It’s mono. How do you think he got it?

“Well…I guess I was just in, uh, contact with someone who had it. I, uh…”

“Forget I asked.” She rubbed at the carpet a bit and sat back on her heels.

“I’m surprised you aren’t making fun of me. Wasn’t it you who always made fun of me for kissing Patricia Winter when I was like ten and you said I was gonna get the ‘kissing disease’?”

She had to smile a bit at that memory. She had been unrelenting with her teasing when she had found out Justin had kissed her next door neighbor. “That was a long time ago, though.”

“I guess.”

“And I’d hope I’ve grown up a little since then.”

“Yeah, you’ve grown up.”

She felt her cheeks redden at the way he said those words and began to scrub at the carpet with new fervor. “I think the stain’s gone.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Uh huh.” She got up and went to the laundry room to put the towel in the washing machine. When she returned to the living room, she sat on the love seat again and drew her knees up to her chest.”

“So what are your plans?”

“My plans?”

“Yeah. Like for the future.”

“Oh. I’m not sure.”

“Do you want to go to university or anything?”

“I’m not sure. If I can save enough money I will.”

“I always thought you’d open up some big business and be a millionaire. Don’t you remember when we were kids and you’d always have some business for us to run. We had the lemonade stand, the dog walking business…”

A smiled escaped her. “I remember we had the psychologist booth like in Charlie Brown.”

He laughed. “Yeah. And somehow you were always the one in charge and me and Trace were like your little employees.’

She smiled again and rested her chin on her knees. “You guys were just easy to boss around.”

“I think we were just a little scared of you cause of when you broke Kenny Carlisle’s leg.”

She blushed. “That was an accident.”

“Sure…”

“It was! We were playing soccer and he ran into me. It wasn’t my fault he was a klutz.”

“Yeah, well we were still scared you’d hurt us if we didn’t help you in all your little projects.”

“They were all good ideas,” she defended. “And they all made money. Well except for the therapy booth but I think that had potential.”

“Until a thunderstorm destroyed it.”

“Oh yeah…”

“Maybe if we hadn’t made it out of cardboard …”

“Hey, we were like nine years old. What else were we gonna make it out of?”

He shrugged. “So if all those things made money, how come me and Trace never saw any of it?”

“Oh. Um…well you remember when I took you guys out for ice cream all those times? That was kind of your money.”

“What?” he laughed. “So you bought us ice cream with our own money? But I remember you’d always make us by you ice cream to pay you back!”

“Did I? Oops.”

“That’s harsh, man.”

“Well it’s not like it made a difference. I doubt neither you or Trace are in dire need of that lost lemonade money.”

He smiled. “You never know. I could have invested it.”

“And you’d be up a whopping ten dollars?”

“I still say it’s harsh.”

She smiled and looked away from him to the bookshelf. “It’s smart businessmanship on my part.”

“Or just corrupt.”

“I don’t think an eight year old can be all that corrupt.”

“Sure seems like you were.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“So you work at the bakery fulltime or what?”

“Yeah. Fulltime.”

“Then you have to get up really early, huh?”

“Mm hmm. I was there at six this morning.”

“Ouch. I guess you get off early though.”

“Yeah.” She lifted her head as she heard the front door open and looked to the doorway. A second later Lynn appeared with a couple bags of groceries.

“Oh, hi, Brenna. How long have you been here?”

She shrugged. “About twenty minutes. I brought you some muffins.”

“They’re really good too, Mom,” Justin spoke up.

Lynn looked towards him. “You had one?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m amazed, Brenna. You actually got him to eat something. What’s your secret?”

Brenna smiled slightly. “No secret.”

“Geez, Mom. You make it sound like I’m anorexic or something. I’ve been eating.”

“Hardly at all,” Lynn retorted. “I need to go bring the rest of the groceries in.”

Brenna stood up. “I’ll help you.”

“Thanks.”

“Was Justin being a grouch?” Lynn asked once they were outside. “He was before I left.”

Brenna shook her head and grabbed some plastic bags from the car trunk. “Not at all.”

“Maybe he just was to me because I’m his mother and I have to put up with him.”

Brenna smiled. “Maybe. Maybe he was tired.”

“Most likely. He’s never been pleasant to be around when he’s tired.”

“He was fine to me.”

“He didn’t hound you with too many questions, did he? He has the tendency to do that.”

And the tendency to ask questions that I don’t want to answer? “It wasn’t that bad,” she said, following Lynn back into the house.

“I’m not used to buying this little groceries when Justin’s home,” Lynn said as they went into the kitchen. “Normally I have to buy twice as much.”

Brenna pulled out a box of pasta from one of the bags. “You usually can’t eat a lot when you’re sick though.”

“I know. I-”

“Mom, I’m gonna go upstairs and sleep.”

Brenna turned her head and saw Justin in the doorway, a blanket wrapped around him.

“Don’t wake me up for dinner, kay?”

Lynn sighed. “Alright.”

“Thanks.” He looked over at Brenna. “You should come over again tomorrow after you’re done work.”

“Oh. Um, okay.”

He nodded and turned. She watched him leave, a little at a loss for words.