Chapter 16 - The Shadow Box
By Sunday evening, the bakery was quiet again.
The Sunday night wind whistled off Lake Michigan, rattling the historic storefront windows of the Clark Street flagship. Inside, the lights were dimmed to a warm, amber glow. The flour had been swept from the floors, the stainless-steel counters polished to a mirror shine, and the heavy smell of yeast and butter lingered softly in the air.
Audrey stood alone in the main dining room, looking up at the framed portrait of her grandmother, Opal Finch.
Right beneath the sepia photograph, the gold wheat brooch gleamed softly under the brass museum light. The tiny, bent grain of metal—marked forever by the teeth of a curious seven-year-old girl—caught the amber glow, casting a tiny, sharp reflection against the glass shadow box.
Footsteps padded softly across the hardwood floor.
Micah walked up beside her, carrying two mugs of hot cocoa topped with heavy cream. He handed one to his mother, then slipped his small hand into hers.
“You okay, Mom?” Micah asked quietly, his eyes fixed on the gold pin.
Audrey took a sip of the warm cocoa, feeling the rich, sweet heat spread through her chest. She looked down at her son, seeing the same fierce, unyielding spark in his eyes that Opal had carried through the Dust Bowl and into every loaf of bread she ever baked.
“I’m better than okay, sweetheart,” Audrey said, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
“Dad called Julian’s office again today,” Micah noted casually, blowing on the surface of his cocoa.
“Did he?”
“Yeah. Wanted to know if we were hiring delivery drivers.”
Audrey let out a short, clean laugh that echoed softly through the empty dining room.
“And what did Julian say?”
“Julian told him our delivery fleet is fully staffed, but if he’s really desperate for work, the back alley needs sweeping and the grease traps need scrubbing,” Micah grinned. “Minimum wage, cash at the end of the shift.”
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Audrey smiled, taking another slow sip of her cocoa as the wind howled outside against the old brick walls.
“Tell Julian to give him a wire brush,” Audrey said softly. “It builds character.”
