Page 14 of Heidi Lucy Loses Her Mind
“Gemma!”comes a squawking voice from the corner behind the counter.
“Shut up, Jojo,” Gemma says to the parakeet, a small bird in vibrant shades of green and yellow. Jojo adjusts his wings in his cage, hopping along his bar.
“Can you feed him, Man Bun?” Heidi says as she moves away from me, heading in the direction of the back room. “I need to unload a few boxes before we start in the kitchen.”
“Again?” Gemma says.
Heidi freezes in her tracks and then turns to look at Gemma, whose head tilts to the side.
“We did the shipment yesterday. Is there more?”
Heidi blinks once. Twice. Then, completely composed, she says, “Sorry, you’re right. I forgot.”
“Feed the bird, Man Bun,” Gemma says. She hurries over to Heidi, her eyes sparkling. “I need to have achatwith Heidi.”
I bet she does.
Gemma drags Heidi in the direction of the café half of the shop, and I round the checkout counter. I scoop some feed into the bowl in Jojo’s cage, closing it and fastening the latch again. Jojo eyes me for a second and then squawks again:
“Pockets of sunshine! Pockets of sunshine!”
I snort, shaking my head.
A few months ago Heidi and Gemma made the mistake of introducing Jojo to the world of audiobooks while they closed at the end of the day, and Jojo has displayed an expanded vocabulary ever since. I’m not sure what kind of books they were listening to—they won’t tell me, which I find suspicious—but I’ll figure it out. I pull out my phone and jot down this latest phrase before tucking it back in my pocket. Then I head to the closet behind the café counter and drag out the spot cleaner. It takes me a few moments at most to get the blood off the floor, and after that I put the spot cleaner away again.
“Heidi,” I call as I head to the front door. “I’m leaving.”
“See you later,” she calls from somewhere over in the café, and with that, I head out into the sun.
4
IN WHICH HEIDI WITNESSES A DEATH
Gemma is not satisfied with my explanation of why Soren stayed at my place last night.
“You said your head was fine,” she says accusingly. “You said you bumped it.”
“I did bump it, technically,” I say as I get started on a giant batch of muffins.
“And you can’t remember anything from yesterday?” she goes on, ignoring me.
“No,” I admit. “And I haven’t sat down to figure everything out yet. After Soren brought me home from the hospital, I just wanted to sleep.”
Gemma sighs and leans back against the counter. “I was so sure something had finally happened.”
“You’re a hopeless romantic,” I say, shaking my head.
“I absolutely am,” she says with a smile. “And I refuse to be ashamed.”
My answering smile is small, but it warms me. “Good. You shouldn’t be.” I hesitate, then add, “But nothing is going to happen with me and Soren. We don’t have those feelings for each other.”
“Speak for yourself,” she says under her breath. Then she reaches up and pulls an apron off the hook on the wall. “I’ll start the scones.”
Gemma and I almost always bake the first batches of the day. I have another kitchen employee that comes a bit later when the café section opens, but I like doing this first round myself. It’s relaxing, and starting my day with baked goods is always a plus.
I need a relaxing morning right about now. Because what the heckhappenedlast night?
I don’t only mean the mysterious head injury or the voicemail or the secret I apparently learned and then forgot. I mean Soren Mackenzie, rinsing my hair, toweling it dry more carefully than I’ve ever seen him do anything. Usually we’re a mess of squabbling chaos, and we both seem to like it like that. Last night was…different.
