Melanie was walking the streets of the small town. It was really early and she was thinking of times long ago. She looked in the bakery window and nearly jumped out of her flip flops when the lights all flipped on. Her left hand reached up and patted her chest bone just to make sure she was still breathing. An elderly man came out and held up his hands and apologized, “Sorry, I didn’t see you. There usually aren’t too many people out this time of the morning.
Melanie shook her head and said, “My mind was miles away . . . still is actually.” The baker understood even at this early hour and said, “Can I get you a cup of coffee? There usually aren’t too many people out this time in the morning. We’re not open yet, but I’m getting an early start.” Melanie shook her head and said, “No, I was miles away and the light just kinda brought me back to reality and obviously to you.” The baker nodded his head and introduced himself, “My name is Fred and company might do us both some good.” Melanie nodded and said, “You must be the one baking for the funeral.” . . . and the two walked inside.
Melanie sat down and looked around the small shop. There was a bulletin board with conglomerations of notes pinned to the corkboard, both new and old. Soon Fred returned with a cup for each of them and containers of milk and sugar along with two donuts. “They are a day old so, no charge.” She smiled and said, “No problem. I like to dip old pasties into my coffee.” Fred laughed and said “In that case, you’ll love the donut; it’s really three days old.” They both laughed.
After a few minutes of getting to know each other, Fred said “Well, I’ve got to get baking. I already raised my dough and now I need to get it into pans and baked so I can open up.” Melanie smiled and offered, “May I help? I’m an excellent cook and an OK baker but I might need a little reminder with the donuts and biscuits.” Fred licked his lips and said, “How about Butterhorns for the funeral?” “What is a Butterhorn?” replied Melanie. Fred smacked his lips and said, “They’re like a large biscuit but with a lot more calories.” Fred added the kicker “They were Jerry’s favorite.” The two mixed them, shaped them, slipped the pastry’s into the oven and began smacking their lips. Melanie was busy and hustling around. There were several batches. Soon there was enough to fill up enough for a large turnout at the funeral and enough to put the rest up for sale and delivery or in-bakery consumption of a one-day old special.
By midmorning, the little store was buzzing. Melanie was enjoying meeting people from the small town. The bakery items were ready and on-time. Fred took a bit of razzing for having really high calorie pastry goods. At noon the manager of the local motel stopped in to pick up the pastry for a short gathering after the funeral. The manager was surprised to see Melanie wearing an apron and a bit of flour on her blouse and in her hair. She looked down to see what the manager was looking at. Her head drooped as tears formed. Fred wrapped his arms around her shoulders in comfort and said, “You look fine.” An instant later the bakery was darn near empty.
Melanie confessed, “For a while I forgot about my son’s death. He’s always been a trouble maker. He’s hurt me and others. I was afraid to ask for the details of his death. I made the arrangements by phone and was afraid to ask any questions about my boy. Out walking this morning enabled me to pray for him but still not face any issues of what he might have done.” Fred nodded and said, “I understand, but I think you may have missed the boat with your son. He was never a problem here. He rented my cabin.”
Melanie looked astounded at him and said, “I can’t believe that.” Fred responded, “Follow me. At first Jerry was a bit much. After a week or two he calmed down. He helped people and was kind. He even fed week old bread to the resident deer.” Looking around the neat little room Melanie saw a photo of her and a much younger Jerry with his arm around her shoulder. Next to the photo was a scribbled note that said, “I always loved you mom . . . always.”
After the actual funeral there was a reception with a large gathering. People were so kind. Melonie listened to stories of her son and tried not to cry. Afterward, Melanie asked Fred, “How much does the cabin rent for?”
