––––––––
The next morning, Katie was working on a special order for the Mayor’s wife when Freida walked into the kitchen, her eyes sparkling and a wide smile on her face.
Katie was preparing to ask what her freind was so excited about—when Mr. O’Neal walked in behind her.
“Gudemariye, Mr. O'Neal.”
“And a good day to ya, Katie-girl. That's a fine bit o' work there. You certainly do have a way with the fancy decorating.”
Katie ducked her head at the compliment, since it also served as a reminder of the trouble she had almost gotten herself into over decorating the window of The Sweet Shop for Christmas.
“Is Mrs. Simpkins still in her office, Katie?” Freida spoke with such excitement and enthusiasm, Katie wondered what Mr. O'Neal would think.
Katie simply nodded her head, “Jah, as far as I know.” She knew it would do no good to try to discourage Freida from playing matchmaker with Mr. O'Neal and Mrs. Simpkins.
Even as a young maedel, Freida had always been trying to match up her freinden and others in the community.
“Did I hear my name, Katie?” Mrs. Simpkins called out as she came around the corner from her office, stopping abruptly before she reached them all. “Oh, hello.”
Katie wondered what the reason could be that had turned her employer's voice, normally sweet and friendly, into something strangely unmovable.
“Good morning to ya, Milly. I was wondering if ya would be wanting to take a bite of lunch with me—say around noon?”
Katie heard what sounded like a huff from behind her before Mrs. Simpkins replied, her voice full of ice.
“No, I don't have time for that today.” And without another word, she turned and went back into her office.
Mr. O'Neal stood there for several seconds, staring after their boss, his expression changing from cheerful to perplexed as he stared in the direction she had disappeared.
Freida's mouth dropped open and she looked as if she wasn't sure whether to stay—or to run away. Katie was glad her freind was standing behind Mr. O'Neal where he couldn't see the surprised look on her face.
She had never known her dear, sweet boss to be so abrupt with anyone—ever. Even when The Sweet Shop was broken into several months ago, Mrs. Simpkins had gone out of her way to help the family involved.
It was a mystery for sure and for certain what Mr. O'Neal, who Katie had thought held a special place in Mrs. Simpkins' heart, could have done to put her in such a mood.
“Well then, I suppose I had better be getting back to the cafe.” And without looking at either of them, he turned to leave.
Katie struggled to think of something to say to him, an apology or some sort of explanation about Mrs. Simpkins' odd behavior, but nothing came to mind. A moment later, he was gone.
“What do you think that was all about, Katie?” Freida's voice came out in a harsh whisper and Katie shushed her before answering.
“I have no idea, Freida, but this is not our business and we would do best not to get in the middle of it.”
Freida looked at Katie with an expression somewhere between surprise and hurt, but after a few seconds she nodded and turned to go back to the front of the bakery.
Katie stood beside the cake she had been decorating—the icing bag still in her hand—for all of thirty seconds, before she turned and followed her freind.
When she pushed through the swinging doors between the kitchen and the shop, Katie could see that the front room was empty of customers, making it easy to spot Freida, who was busy wiping down a table by the front window.
Katie walked slowly toward the table, speaking softly as she went. “Freida?”
Freida looked up at Katie. Speaking quickly, her words tumbled out in a jumble. “I know I am a gossip. I know I talk too much about things I have no business messing about with. I am sorry, Katie. Please forgive me. I did not mean to stick mei nose where it does not belong. You were right to shush me.”
The sound of a quiet sniffle reached Katie's ears before Freida went on.
“For sure and for certain, I only wanted to help.”
“Freida, I came out here, not to be forgiving you, but to ask if you can forgive me.”
The damp cloth in her hand stilled on the table as Freida looked up at Katie, with a slightly odd expression on her face.
“Ach, of course I forgive you, Katie.” Freida rushed over to her freind, wrapping Katie in a tight hug. “And will you forgive me for being such a busybody?”
“You are not such a busybody, but jah, of course I forgive you.”
“So what do you think happened between—” Freida quickly covered her mouth with her hand.
“Freida?” Katie prompted.
Looking a bit sheepish, Freida replied. “Never mind, Katie. I think it's time for me to get back to work.”
* * *
“Are you all right, Uncle?”
Andrew stopped short at the question, looking around the dark cafe until he spotted his nephew seated at a small table in the corner, a thick paperback open in one hand, a cup of tea in the other.
“Aye, I am. I'm right as rain, Sean.”
The tilt of one eyebrow and ironic twist of his young nephew's lips told Andrew that Sean did not believe him for one second.
“Are you sure of that, Uncle?”
Andrew moved to the table and dropped heavily into the chair across from Sean.
“Aye, you're right. I'm not all right and I've not the slightest idea what I can do about it.”
“It's that Mrs. Simpkins, isn't it?”
Andrew felt his jaw drop open in shock. It took a moment for him to reply. “What do you know about that?”
“Oh please, Uncle. All anyone has to do to know how you feel about her is to watch the two of you in the same room. A blind man could see it.”
“Well, then I wish someone would tell me why she canna see it, then.”
“I think she does see it. She just doesn't want to admit it.” Sean smiled as he sat back.
“You're thinkin' she doesn't feel the same, then?”
“I didn't say that. Who knows what women feel... or want...” Sean stopped talking then and looked back down at his book, though it didn't look to Andrew like he was actually reading the words in front of him.
I wonder what young lass has been giving him a hard time?
He started to ask, but thought better of it. Clearly Sean did not want him to know anything more about it just now.
“What do you think I should do about her?”
Sean looked up, surprise coloring his young features. “If it were me, I would play her own game against her.”
Taken aback by the unexpected answer, Andrew waited a moment before asking, “And just how do I go about that?”
“Well, I'll tell you what I would do.”
* * *
It was hours later when Mrs. Simpkins came back out of her office, walking over to where Katie was putting the finishing touches on the fancy cake.
“By the way Katie, I was wondering... why are there crates of lemons in the pantry? Did we get a large order—or several orders—that we need an abundance of lemons?”
“No, ma’am. Actually I was thinking of trying some new desserts. I thought perhaps it would be a gut idea to offer something different for the Memorial Day celebration.”
After a moment, Amelia looked back toward the store room, then nodded her head. “All right, dear. I’ve always trusted your instincts in these matters. You go ahead with your plans. I'm delighted that you're always thinking of ways to keep our customers happy... and maybe draw in some new ones.”