Cecily's place. That was what the bakery had always been known as until two years ago when she took a loan to expand and refurbish the place. Her mother, Cecily Adams had sold special flavored bread and cupcakes. Every Friday afternoon she asked Johnny, the ice cream truck driver, to park just beside the bakery so kids could troop in to have cupcakes and ice cream.
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It was an amazing method that brought money and satisfaction to her mom. She had watched from her tender eyelids then, how a smile lit her mother's face each time a child walked in tired and went out energized.
She made cookies too, that was Emily's specialty; Gingerbread cookies. Her mother handed those out for free to all her customers on Saturdays, everyone seemed happy then until Cecily Adams died and Emily Adams had to take over.
She had barely run the shop for two months when she received Dalton Hitler's letter.
“…Cecily Adams owed my firm 40 thousand dollars….”
She hadn't known that she had the capacity to shed a tear. When she lost her father at eight, she spent lots of time throwing rocks onto the beach. She barely had a tear to lose then. After her mother's burial, she had thrown herself into working late nights at the bakery. She neither had time to think nor mourn.
It was surprising that her bluish-gray eyes suddenly began to leak. She had chided herself, wiped the tears off, and spent more late nights planning on how to expand the bakery into a restaurant so she could have more profit and save up for the loan. Dalton Hitler had given her three months.
Every strategy she had come up with had ended with her getting more money so she walked up to the one person who would be willing to give her the amount she needed on such short notice. Wilson Brown had given her the loan on the condition of an outrageous interest and she agreed. What had she been thinking?
She had found out that there was a lot of salty liquid in her system these days because her eyes stung at the slightest provocation. They became red and puffy on most days, causing her customers to inquire about her well-being more frequently than normal.
She had taken up two other staff to help out with the cooking and serving at the restaurant since she was strictly in charge of the bakery. That was when she changed the name to Emily's place.
Business was looking up, but there was barely any change to spare after she had thrown the profit of the day into paying the staff and saving for Hitler.
When Hitler sent another letter threatening to take Emily's place, her eyes had not leaked secretly the way they did recently, she broke down completely.
Cecily, or Emily's place, had been her mother's legacy. She had failed to keep that legacy going just like her mother feared she would.
It was Rita, the waitress who recommended Abel Dominick to her after hearing about the mess she was in.
“He's a bankruptcy lawyer, you should call him.”
Emily didn't even know what bankruptcy meant.
“Isn't that meant for banks or something?” She asked the egg-headed, full-bearded man who had two round lenses perched on his straight nose.
“Bankruptcy is often misunderstood to mean a bank closing down, but that's not it. It's about declaring your debts with the intention of having it cleared, either in part or in full.”
“So my debts can be cleared?” She sat upright in the swivel chair he had offered her.
“It's not as easy as that though. You have to file for bankruptcy, appear before a bankruptcy court, and attend a meeting of creditors.”
As she returned to the bakery after meeting Dominick, She felt like someone was gradually snatching her life away from her hands.
“I have to lay you off Rita, I'm sorry.”
Rita shook her head and laid a palm on her shoulder
“I understand Emily. I saw it coming anyway so I applied at KFC. I hope they take me”.
Emily's eyes were starting to leak again. “I always knew you were one ambitious girl. Keep your hopes up, they wouldn't reject someone with such a pretty smile.”
Rita exposed her set of incisors slightly at Emily's compliment.
“What about you? Where will you go from here?” Rita asked.
“Nowhere. I'm going to try to keep my head above water here. Dominick said I can do that. I'll pay Wilson in full and pay Hitler one-third of the money my mom owed.”
“I wish you good luck, okay?”
Emily nodded and without a cue, they fell into each other's arms, holding on tightly, like their lives depended on it.
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