P.J.

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"Mother, I'm only going to work. Or are you going to take that away from me as well?" She stands across from me. Her arms were crossed firmly against her chest and her lips were drawn in a tight frown.

"But I'm worried about you. What if something happens to you on the journey to work? I would much rather you stay here. Where you are safe." I roll my eyes and grab my car keys.

"I'm sorry mom. But what life would that be? Living at home. Never leaving. Only ever talking to you. I'm sorry, that's no life." I don't turn to face her. Instead, I walk out the door, leaving her fuming behind me.

I hop into my car and stick the key in. The engine starts up. And I drive to work. My eyes stay peeled to the road. Thoughts of her consume my mind. I need to know her name, where she is, what our relationship was like. I needed to know.

I pull into my parking spot in the back of the cafe and get out. Locking the car behind me, I open the back door and walk inside. With the placement of my apron around my neck and tied behind my back, I become a new. The warm smile becomes plastered onto my face. I forget the worries of home. I forget my mom. I allow the warmth of the baked goods take over, and steal the coldness from my body.

With the work me finally in place, I head to the front counter to take orders.

The workday is long and hard. But I can manage. I always manage. Hoping that one of the costumers coming through the door is her. But what would I do if she did come through that door? Would I even have the nerve to talk to her? I always ponder that question. I look up from the register and sigh. The workday was almost over, unfortunately. And even worse, tomorrow was my day off. Hopefully, I could get away from Mother and go to my cliff. Hopefully.

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