LOVE IN THE BAKING

OH BOY

Royal kicked the box that slid a little further. He frowned, went to pick it up, and looked around him. All he could see was Mr. Doyle lawnmowing and Ms. Kiple's doing her yoga poses on her lawn.

"Mom, there was this in front of the door," the boy said as he reentered the house.

His sisters came to gather around him.

"What is it?" Kenya asked.

"It looks like a cake box," Kenya, the expert, said.

Ten seconds were enough for the whole house to smell vanilla and pecan nuts.

Thandie took the box from Royal's hands. A small note detached itself and fell to the ground.

Meia grabbed the word only to hear Thandie's hasty, "Give me that."

Her daughter executed the order. Thandie grabbed the note and walked to the kitchen. Her kids followed. She placed the box on the table and read the note.

I hope your children enjoy them. Have a nice day, Callum.

Thandie only had the time to look up and say, "Who said you could open it," that Royal had opened the box. Its content left all three of her children with dropping and drooling jaws.

"Wow," gasped Meia at what she considered a feast of delights.

All her kids looked at Thandie with dewy eyes. She had refused to go to the bakery all week. Meia had cried more than once while trailing her feet behind Thandie as she strode to take them to school. Not only did she ban the pastries, but she also walked on the other side of the street. Her kids wondered what nonsense they had said or done to deserve such a punishment. Each kept accusing the other of something, and none dared ask their mother. There, they had a whole box of their favorite pastries. The person who left their box knew their habits.

Did callum really retain all of her children's preferences?

It seemed like it.

"Mom, can we?" The nuance in Royal's voice was subtle, but Thandie heard his plea.

"Yes, go on."

The smiles on her children's faces said it all. Thandie watched them pick and eat their favorite cakes while wondering why Callum had done it. She had been nothing but cold and mean to him. She ignored him, yet the man made her children smile, and Thandie couldn't act as though the gesture didn't prick her in the right spot.

There were many ways to her heart, but there was one direct route where one needn't say open sesame.

Thandie took her phone out and wrote a simple thank you for the pastries.

It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing for Callum, who beamed at his screen. Thandie didn't say she wished to stop talking to him, which was a triumph.

Thandie's phone buzzed. Seeing the red light, she imagined Callum reacting to her message. To her surprise, it was the handsome Cole and his tetanizing message.

Have we met before?

The text sent shock waves all over Thandie's body.

Where and how could they have met?

I don't think so Thandie replied.

Your face looks familiar. I'm almost sure we've met.

Thandie panicked before remembering most matches were from her area. Perhaps they crossed each other at Tescos or at a bus stop. She worked in a post office, and though she probably looked like any black woman for a non-black person, a black man could presumably pin her face. Again, she fell into the cross-race bias that had her thinking that all POC looked the same to most people.