Little Moments (Second Chances 2) - Page 15
“Oh, she’s almost three and she’s my goddaughter. I’m babysitting this weekend while her parents are out of town.”
“Well, bless her. She’s so well behaved for her age. How is everything tasting for you ladies?”
I let out a deep breath. “Everything is delicious. Thank you. I used to come here all the time in high school and haven’t been back in a while since I moved into the city.”
“I was going to say you looked familiar when I saw you walk in, and once you picked out the éclairs, I figured it out.”
“These are seriously the best éclairs I’ve had. So so good.”
“Well, thank you. I’ll relay your graciousness to my husband.”
I express my thanks once again and decide it’s time to start heading back. Layla’s face and hands are covered in chocolate so I take a quick selfie with her. After cleaning her face with baby wipes, I gather our things and strap her inside the stroller.
I holler toward the back where Mrs. Zeppieri ran off. “Okay, we’re off. Thank you for the pastries!”
She walks out to the front and waves. “Thank you and please come again.”
As I look back at her to give a smile, I open the front door and push the stroller outside. Not paying any attention, I crash into someone who is trying to enter the bakery.
My head smacks right into a hard chest as the smell of men’s cologne hits my senses. Warm hands grab hold of my shoulders, steadying my tipsy balance. I step back and scurry out of his arms immediately, then look up to find a strong set of broad shoulders covered in a FDNY t-shirt. I look toward the ground with embarrassment.
I feel my face blush as I try to regain my composure. “I’m sorry, I’m such a klutz. I didn’t mean to—”
My eyes reach his face and at that moment, I’m in a trance filled with wonder and recognition. The handsome stranger stares back at me with a similar look of shock. He remains silent. He just stands there, frozen in place.
My mind instantly examines his face, trying to decipher where I’ve seen him. I know I’ve seen him before and he knows it too.
Just as I’m about to muster up some courage, Layla mumbles about Barbie, breaking me from our trance.
My mind comes back to reality and I shake away the feeling. I hear him clear his throat and open his mouth, about to speak.
I begin to panic and step around him. “Excuse me.”
I push the stroller across the street and head toward the subway. Just when Layla and I are about to turn the corner, I take a look back toward the bakery to find the handsome stranger is nowhere to be seen.
Roman
THE BUZZING OF my alarm startles me awake, ripping away the dream. My arms stretch out to hit the snooze button and my eyes groggily open. I glance around to see my fellow firehouse roommates waking up to start another day. Hopping out of bed, we make our way to the bathrooms and I take a quick shower to wake my body up.
The delicious scent of crispy bacon and cheesy eggs sneaks its way into the bathroom, causing my stomach to grumble for its next meal. Breakfast time. Minutes later, I race downstairs, hoping the other firemen haven’t eaten all the food. I arrive just in time.
“Good morning everybody.”
They all respond, “Hey Roman.”
I grab a plate and pile it with a scoop of scrambled eggs, that crispy ba
con, two buttermilk biscuits, three sausage links, and a slice of smoked ham. I walk over to the dining table and take a seat next to Carter, who’s already on his second helping. I nod to the carton of orange juice so he can pass it over. I thank him as I pour myself a glass. The ten of us eat our breakfast in a comfortable silence.
Twenty minutes later, I bring my empty plate into the kitchen and thank the captain for his awesome cooking skills.
“Those eggs were killer, Cap.”
He glances over as he washes up the dishes and I stick around to help him out.
“Thanks Roman. The wife revealed a few cooking secrets. I figured I needed to spice things up in here, instead of us just eating cereal and frozen waffles all the time.”
I grab a kitchen towel and start drying the dishes. “Ha, good idea. It certainly was a pleasant surprise. I remember waking up to breakfast every Sunday when I was younger. My aunt would spiff up buttermilk pancakes for my cousin Franco and me. It was the best part of my day.”
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