Escape Across the Pond

Chapter 7

Dear Dad,

When your entire world has completely collapsed in on itself and you find yourself picking up what little pieces are left, do you think the people around you notice your struggle? Or is it all business as usual and carry on? Does anyone actually see the drowning victim before it's all too late? My guess would be no.

I've somehow managed to stock up the kitchen and take full advantage of the magnificent soaking tub over the course of this last week. I won't mention just how many cakes I've managed to bake and devour solo over the course of that week, but I did make my way back over to the boutique where Charlotte works once to grab coffee with her at Ollie's on her lunch break. I asked her where I could find some clothes that would be a better fit for my taste. She did give me directions to a shop just further down that was more of a "punk New Yorker" vibe, as she put it. Ollie's was wonderful just as before. This time, however, I treated myself to some of the pastries he had in the glass case near the register. Scones, tartlets, and tea pastries line the shelves, and my mouth waters at the sight.

A tall, elderly man, who is still broad through the shoulders but now carries a paunch belly that hangs over his trousers approaches me while I'm still admiring his glass case. I look up at him and he gives me a broad smile under his rather large salt-and-pepper mustache. "What can I get ye, lass?" I turn to look over to Charlotte who is already seated at a table by the front window. "I guess I'll have a scone, but I have to have one of your tartlets. Which would you suggest?" I ask giving him a shy smile back.

"Ah, a lass that loves the pastries as much as I do." he chuckles "I recommend the lemon tartlet 'cause it's me favorite but it just 'asn't been the same since I lost me, wife, a few years back. She used to make all the pastries 'ere at the shop. I've a young lass 'elpin me for na. She does alright. Ye could also try the custard. It's a favorite amongst some regulars." he says, still smiling. How could he speak about losing his wife without completely falling apart like I do when I think of my dad?

I give what I hope is a pleasant smile. "I'm so sorry to hear about the passing of your wife. I know it can be hard to lose someone." I respond with a sigh. I can't help but feel as though he may have caught a glimpse of the pain in my eyes. "I'll take the lemon, thank you." I try to quickly switch the conversation back to the delicious-looking tartlets in front of me.

He gives me a little nod, "Very well lass."

While he plates my food I can't help but reach out "You know, back in New York, I worked in a little bakery. Nothing fancy really, just the usual stuff but I loved to bake. I didn't get to do it as much as I would have liked but if you're needing an extra set of hands, I could use the job. And I promise to try and learn to make those lemon tartlets the way you remember your wife making them."

When old Ollie turns back to me he has a smile so big that his eyes crinkle up at the corners. "I would love it if ye could 'elp me out, lass! Lil Anna will be starting uni soon an I was worried about finding some 'elp for the shop."

I take a bite of the lemon tartlet he's passed over the counter with my cup of coffee and can't stop the moan that comes from deep in my throat. "Oh wow! I can see why it's your favorite. I'm Coraline but you can call me Cora." I say sticking my hand out for him to shake. "I'm staying in my friend's family cottage until she gets in from the states. But I really do love it here already. Much quieter than back home."

He shakes my hand. "Well, it's bloody good to 'ave ye lass. Stop by any day this week around 7. We'll 'ave everythin goin by then but I want ye to get a feel for the shop durin our busy time to see what ye're gettin ye'reself into." I thank him again and make my way back over to Charlotte who has just watched the entire scene unfold with rapt attention.