Lib Novel Page 25
“Can I help with that?” Owen asked.
Such a little gentleman. I slid the cake onto the island counter. “Sure. Can you get me one of the medium boxes?”
He retrieved the still-flat box and I put the cake on it, showing him how to fold up the sides then close the top.
“You want to carry it out for me?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
He carefully picked up the box and followed me out front. I showed the customer the cake to make sure it was exactly what they wanted, then handed it over.
“Have a great day,” I said.
Next in line was a nice-looking guy, probably about my age or maybe a few years older. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him before. He flashed a friendly smile, then seemed to notice Owen.
“Hey, pal. What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Uncle Z.” Owen glanced at me, his eyes pleading, as if to say, please don’t make me tell him.
“He’s my helper today,” I said. “Just, um, learning about working in a bakery.”
“Sweet. I’m Zachary Haven, one of Owen’s uncles.”
“Oh yeah?” I glanced at Owen. “You have a lot of uncles?”
He sighed. “So many uncles.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Owen’s uncle Zachary. What can we get for you?”
“Good question.” He eyed the pastry case. “O, what do you think Auntie Marigold would like?”
Owen tilted his head and pointed. “What are these?”
“Coconut macaroons.”
“No.” He pointed to the next row. “What about these?”
“Lemon lavender cookies.”
“That sounds like Auntie Mari.”
Zachary grinned. “Yeah, it does. Good call. I’ll take two. No, make it four.”
“Can I do it?” Owen asked.
“Absolutely.” I handed him a set of tongs. “Since he wants four, we’ll box them up.”
Owen gently pulled four lemon lavender cookies out of the case and set them in a pink to-go box. I rang up the order while he folded the top down and added a little Angel Cakes sticker to hold it shut.
“There you go, sir.” He handed the box to his uncle. “Have a nice day.”
“Thank you.” Zachary tipped his chin to him, then smiled at me before taking his box and leaving.
Owen froze, his eyes wide, and sniffed the air. “Harper.”
“What’s wrong?”
“The cookies. I wasn’t listening for the timer.”