Christmas at The Heartbreak Cafe (Lakeview Christmas Novel) (Lakeview Contemporary Romance Book 7) by Melissa Hill Page A
Authors: Melissa Hill
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"The hassle of baking the same thing over and over again, day after day. When I retire, I plan on having others bake me goodies.” She attempted to make herself sound exasperated at the thought.
In truth, she loved the process. She relished in combining ingredients, preheating the oven, the scent of slowly baking food, and the occasional taste of fresh batter. It reminded her of her first days in the old kitchen with her father-in-law in charge of teaching her the ins and outs of bakery goods. It reminded her of her husband and his insistence that he try the first of everything she baked.
As hard as it was for her to lie to her staff, it was even harder to talk to some of her favourite customers. One by one, she would casually mention it. It started with her friend Ita who was a notorious gossip. She knew that if Ita caught on to her retirement, the rest of the town would be in talks of it for the rest of the week.
“Ita,” she’d casually interjected as she poured her another cup of coffee, “Do you know of anyone around here who works with people in finding post-retirement activities?”
“Here in Lakeview?” Ita’s wheels were slowly churning, Ella could tell by the gleam in her eye and the annoying urgency in her voice. “Other than golfing, I doubt it. The way we treat our senior citizens these da—”
“No I’m not interested in golf. Maybe volunteering or something like that. In any case I need to do something to entertain myself once I finish up here.”
“I suppose so…” Ita was looking at her, the wheels in her head slowly turning and her voice now had a shake as if she was given a secret key. No doubt she was making a mental note of who in the town to break the news first.
As Ita left in her haste, Ella realised that this was the beginning of the end. This was how her “retirement” started. That word stung the more and more she thought of it. Her father-in-law would have never retired. Her husband would have put his foot down at the thought. She attempted to cough back the disappointment and anger at herself. But this was her only option, wasn’t it?
C ome noon , the café had emptied. The place was uncharacteristically quiet for lunchtime. The only customers so far this morning had been Ruth, a few passing tourists, and a couple of the local teenagers sneaking out of school for a lunch run. She went in back to help Colm to prepare afternoon pastries, yet she had a feeling that the rest of the day would also be atypically quiet.
Her ruse must have done the trick. Of course the word had spread like wildfire. Ita wouldn’t be able to resist telling everyone she ran into. No doubt she had stopped into Rich Rags, the boutique up the road, the hair salon, and several houses of her friends and neighbours.
By now, she estimated that at least half of the village had received some word that Ella was retiring.
In the quiet and the calm, she went out back to her office beside the kitchen as Colm quietly chatted and went about their day none the wiser. She should start packing things up, she told herself, but she instead decided to sort through the stacks of invoices and bills, time sheets and staff notes, and the couple of random menu mockups she had begun to compose for January. She began to tear through the pile like a madwoman on a mission. Her rubbish fin filled up quickly with the bits of pieces she found disposable. Within minutes, her tiny workstation had become completely clear of the familiar and comforting clutter.
All that was left to do was to make a moving to-do list. There would be equipment to sell, things to move and staff to let go. It all felt so overwhelming and daunting, yet she knew she couldn’t ignore it for long. Christmas was less than two weeks away and then she would have only another few days throughout the holiday period to get the place clear and empty for the café’s end.
As her list began to add up, a knock came at the door. It was urgent, forceful, and
In truth, she loved the process. She relished in combining ingredients, preheating the oven, the scent of slowly baking food, and the occasional taste of fresh batter. It reminded her of her first days in the old kitchen with her father-in-law in charge of teaching her the ins and outs of bakery goods. It reminded her of her husband and his insistence that he try the first of everything she baked.
As hard as it was for her to lie to her staff, it was even harder to talk to some of her favourite customers. One by one, she would casually mention it. It started with her friend Ita who was a notorious gossip. She knew that if Ita caught on to her retirement, the rest of the town would be in talks of it for the rest of the week.
“Ita,” she’d casually interjected as she poured her another cup of coffee, “Do you know of anyone around here who works with people in finding post-retirement activities?”
“Here in Lakeview?” Ita’s wheels were slowly churning, Ella could tell by the gleam in her eye and the annoying urgency in her voice. “Other than golfing, I doubt it. The way we treat our senior citizens these da—”
“No I’m not interested in golf. Maybe volunteering or something like that. In any case I need to do something to entertain myself once I finish up here.”
“I suppose so…” Ita was looking at her, the wheels in her head slowly turning and her voice now had a shake as if she was given a secret key. No doubt she was making a mental note of who in the town to break the news first.
As Ita left in her haste, Ella realised that this was the beginning of the end. This was how her “retirement” started. That word stung the more and more she thought of it. Her father-in-law would have never retired. Her husband would have put his foot down at the thought. She attempted to cough back the disappointment and anger at herself. But this was her only option, wasn’t it?
C ome noon , the café had emptied. The place was uncharacteristically quiet for lunchtime. The only customers so far this morning had been Ruth, a few passing tourists, and a couple of the local teenagers sneaking out of school for a lunch run. She went in back to help Colm to prepare afternoon pastries, yet she had a feeling that the rest of the day would also be atypically quiet.
Her ruse must have done the trick. Of course the word had spread like wildfire. Ita wouldn’t be able to resist telling everyone she ran into. No doubt she had stopped into Rich Rags, the boutique up the road, the hair salon, and several houses of her friends and neighbours.
By now, she estimated that at least half of the village had received some word that Ella was retiring.
In the quiet and the calm, she went out back to her office beside the kitchen as Colm quietly chatted and went about their day none the wiser. She should start packing things up, she told herself, but she instead decided to sort through the stacks of invoices and bills, time sheets and staff notes, and the couple of random menu mockups she had begun to compose for January. She began to tear through the pile like a madwoman on a mission. Her rubbish fin filled up quickly with the bits of pieces she found disposable. Within minutes, her tiny workstation had become completely clear of the familiar and comforting clutter.
All that was left to do was to make a moving to-do list. There would be equipment to sell, things to move and staff to let go. It all felt so overwhelming and daunting, yet she knew she couldn’t ignore it for long. Christmas was less than two weeks away and then she would have only another few days throughout the holiday period to get the place clear and empty for the café’s end.
As her list began to add up, a knock came at the door. It was urgent, forceful, and
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