Free The Fourteen Day Soul Detox, Volume Two by Rita Stradling Page B

doors.
    “Hey Henry,” I said, as the
bus driver looked down at us.
    “Morning Jamie. Another loud
morning,” he said.
    Sarah walked up the steps to the bus,
turning and walking away from us down the aisle.
    “I think it’ll be okay. She
had a really good morning,” I told him.
    “Alright then,” he said,
looking back over his shoulder and into the bus. He turned to me.
“You have a great day.”
    “You too,” I said as the
doors closed.
    The rows of kids passed by as the
school bus returned into the fog.
    Turning away from my apartment, I
started the much longer path around the entire section of duplexes.
The eucalyptus trees lining the sidewalk dropped leaves, fluttering
down around me. I plucked one from the air and inhaled its strong
scent. My gaze darted around the empty street. The street lights were
still lit, the fog clearly outlining their path.
    I examined each parking spot and the
spaces between them as I made my way to my car. When I reached my
car, I jumped in, locked the doors and drove out of the parking lot.
    Turning the radio on to a classic rock
station, I sang along at the top of my lungs until I parked alongside
the mural of Jack climbing the beanstalk. Walking up the sidewalk, I
stopped before the tree that stretched out its branches in front of
my shop. Nestled among its big, green, heart-shaped leaves were three
stubborn blossoms. The street showed no trace of the buds that had so
recently splattered the sidewalks.
    I turned to the store and unlocked the
door.
    “Morning sunshine!” Chris
called out from behind the counter the moment I stepped inside.
    “Morning moonshine,” I
called back.
    “I wish! Everything’s ready
if you want to open her up,” Chris called.
    I flipped over our sign from open to
closed and said, “Ta, da.” Walking behind the counter, I
put on a clean apron and washed my hands.
    “So, I have big news,” I
said while my gaze was still glued to the hot, soapy water on my
hands.
    Chris stepped up next to the sink, and
I had to look up at him. “You’re pregnant,” he
said.
    “Shut up! Don’t even say
those things out loud!” I told him, splashing him with soapy
water when he started laughing.
    “I’m sorry, I actually
thought you were going to say that.” He wiped his face off with
a rag and threw it in the bin designated for dirty rags.
    “No, I’m not pregnant. I’m
taking your advice,” I said. “And I’m going to…”
I choked up.
    “Oh, sweetheart,” Chris
said, wrapping me in a hug. “I already knew, Susan called me.”
    I hugged him back. “That
busybody. I can never make my own freaking announcements.”
    “Well, for what it’s worth,
I’m proud of you,” he said, stepping back and giving me a
grin.
    “It’s worth a lot. But I
haven’t actually done anything yet. I’m going to close
the shop early today, as soon as the breakfast rush is over. I need
to get all my paperwork together.”
    The bell over the door dinged and I
turned to see our first customer walk in the door.
    “Mind if I start on the register
today? I’m trying to resist temptation,” I said.
    Chris beamed, holding a hand out toward
the register. “Be my guest.”
    I stepped up as a middle-aged woman
stopped before the register.
    “Good morning. What can I get
you?” I asked.
    Her gaze was fixed on the completely
full pastry display case. Scones, muffins, Danishes and croissants
lined up in perfect rows from the glass in the front to the mirrors
in the back.
    “Are any of these gluten free?”
she asked, her gaze still intent on the pastries.
    “Um, Chris, do we have any
gluten-free pastries today?”
    “Yeah, the savory and sweet
scones on the far right. They should be labeled,” he said.
    “Hey Chris, I didn’t see
you back there,” the middle-aged woman said as she beamed over
at Chris.
    “Good morning,” he sang,
“Can I get a drink started for you?”
    “Double shot skinny latte,”
she said.
    “For here or to go?” he
asked.
    “Oh, to go,