A Deadly Winter Retreat

|1|

THE RAINDROPS PATTERED against my windshield as I maneuvered my gray Honda Civic into a parallel parking spot in front of Glenna's Cafe & Bakery. Getting a parking spot right out front on a Monday morning was quite unusual.

Today must be my lucky day!

I pressed my foot on the brake, parked my car, and slipped the key out of the ignition.

The temperature would be dropping to near zero soon, and the snow would be arriving later in the week, according to the WCPO 9 News weather report, but I was prepared. I grabbed my long beige coat off the passenger seat and slipped my arm into each sleeve, bundling up for the chill.

As I opened up my door and stepped outside, my brown ankle boots met a wet puddle. Water splashed into the air, leaving little wet spots on the lower layer of my coat. I hurriedly made my way into Glenna's, wrestling with the wind on my way in.

The approaching storm caused raindrops to trickle down my face, wetting my already wet curls.

"Good morning, Trish!" Glenna, the owner, greeted.

"Good morning, Glenna," I replied with a smile.

"We've got another storm heading our way," she warned, a wrinkle forming on her forehead. "Make sure you stay bundled up," she advised.

Glenna was an elderly woman with short, sparse gray hair and a back that was slightly hunched over. Her husband passed away a year ago, and she was considering retiring soon, which wasn't a bad idea given the recent rapid decline in her health.

"I know, but I'm more than prepared." I replied, "How are you doing?" I asked while I browsed the pastries behind the glass counter.

"I'm doing good. I'm finally selling the bakery." She informed.

I gasped.

Glenna was a lifelong resident of Belmont, and the bakery was a town staple. Learning that it's being sold was like a punch to the gut- heartbreaking.

"I have some buyers, a nice family from Vietnam," Glenna explained with a smile woven across her face.

"That's so good to hear!" I smiled, "But I'll be sad to see you go." I sighed as my lips curved into a frown.

"I'm sad to go, too, but it's for the best. I'm not in great shape anymore." Glenna held her smile, "What will you be having this morning, dear?" she started, "Your usual?"

Glenna rested her hands on the countertop. The wrinkles, spider veins, and thinness of the skin on her hands revealed her seventy-something age.

"I'll have a chocolate croissant and a cappuccino." My phone's ringtone erupted into pinging sounds. I quickly reached into my purse, pulling it out.

Incoming Call: Troy

"Hi, Troy!" I answered.

I watched as Glenna opened the pastry-filled case and grabbed a chocolate croissant. She stuffed it into a small white bag.

"Good morning, babe! I'll be working a little late tonight, but I shouldn't be later than seven." Troy's voice echoed into the phone.

"Okay, I'll see you then. Have a good day at work!" We said our goodbyes and ended the call.

Glenna pressed the start button on the cappuccino machine with a shaky finger—the brown liquid dripped from the machine's nozzle into a white to-go cup. The cup foamed with the goodness of the cappuccino, causing my stomach to rumble.

Glenna stood at the counter with the chocolate croissant and cappuccino in her hands. She placed both items on the countertop and hit a few keys on the cash register.