If I Wasn't So Troubled

12 ~ Essie

We open in ten minutes, Aiden's kneading the last dough of bread. There were many times I could have and definitely should have pressurised his pace, or simply take over. Except I remember my first shift at the bakery; Miranda rushing and judging me with her harsh tone and snapping of fingers. No matter your experience, everyone is slow at the start, I find pestering only pushes an individual into increased disorientation. Therefore I pursue to not utter a word, if he's got the tiniest bit of brains he'll eventually mimic my faster work ethic. 

Outside is beginning to illustrate what 7am looks like, I'm still stationed on the chair, basically staring everywhere but Aiden. A few cars buzz by, no doubt shop owners running late. The illegal speed of the cars trigger a memory I have not yet learned to let go. Thinking of it puts me right back behind the window I stood at when I was 10, witnessing my Mother sprint down the driveway. Blood coating her hands; the day she foolishly came back to fetch Ben's teddy bear he could never sleep without. She ran dementedly, the blood she held fell like rain drops on the gravel road. 

"Es?" Aiden's voice enters my flashback, quickly ridding me out of it. He's got to quit calling me that I grumble in my head, squeezing the stools of the chair. I pivot my head slightly in his view, 

"Yes?" I say through gritted teeth. "Do you think this is the right consistency?" He prods, he puts just the right amount of uncertainty in his voice to cause me to face towards him completely, assessing his dough. However it vanishes out of sight and only Aiden appears, I don't know when dear reader due to my act of ignorance, but Aiden has rolled up his sleeves. Muscles and thick veins press under his skin like they're going to burst. I blink mechanically, gulping as he presses into the counter with his knuckles, softly grunting and feeling up what I imagine is the dough. My suspicion of him doubles, wouldn't he be better at bodybuilding competitions I reason, he's wasting his frame at a bakery. 

Suddenly the door bangs open, I spring out my seat like the police are barging in and bite down on my lower lip, ignoring the cry of pain my leg inflicts. A business woman strolls down the aisle, checking her phone constantly, I glance at Aiden who is looking at me smiling. I hurdle over and gesture him towards the checkout counter.

"You serve this lady and I'll put the bread in the oven." I dictate, sparing my dysfunctional body another daze by dropping my eyes to the floor. I plop the dough on the oven tray, turning a blind eye to how over mixed it is.

 I eavesdrop on Aiden's socialising skills whilst turning on the oven, I'm eager to see if he maintains the same demeanour with others he does with me. He speaks clearly, not sounding sluggish yet replies shortly and disinterested, he hasn't even asked her how her morning is. To work in industry retail he has to know how to draw customers in. I almost giggle at how hypocritical I'm being, I mean I'm terrible at conversing, my repetitive stumble with basic math and sheepish looks is what grants me commiseration from people. 

Shaking my hair out my face, I turn on the bread timer and limp back. Rapidly and almost superhuman-like Aiden is by my side again, helping me down the ledge with his hands gluing on my hips. The flipping of my stomach when this man touches me is starting to eat at me.

Like clockwork someone else enters the store, an old man beelines to the chocolate donuts, I despise serving decisive customers because I get less time to calculate prices in my head. I hobble out of Aiden's warm hands and lean against the counter, forcing a smile. 

"Morning sir, what can I get for you?" I question, the old man nods in reply to my morning statement, wrinkles creasing across his forehead as he smiles. 

"Two donuts please dear, one chocolate and one caramel." He answers, licking his lips hungrily. Aiden pulls out a brown paper bag, I panic, waving my arms at him, blood rushes to my head.