Molly looked down at her. “Uh-huh.. But if you’re gonna move in, there’ll have to be conditions.”

Jordan grinned. “Conditions?”

“Oh yeah,” Molly said quite seriously. “You’ll need to pull your share of the handiwork around this place.”

“Which would be?”

“Well, all of it. While wearing jeans and a tank top. That’s also a condition by the way, because there will be lots of objectification.”

“I love it when you objectify me.”

“And I’ll need to interview this cat of yours, Frankie, is it?”

“Francis Ford Coppola until you get to know him better.”

“Pretentious.”

“He totally can be, yeah.”

Molly sighed happily. “So it’s settled. You, me, a cat, and a fish in the blue house.”

“How can you beat it?”

“Who would even try?” Molly murmured as she went in for another kiss.

That’s when Jordan’s phone buzzed. She checked the readout and took the call. “Hey, Bobby. I’ll be over in just a bit.”

She stared at Molly questioningly. “Yeah, she’s right here. What’s up?” Molly watched Jordan curiously, finally tilting her head to the side in question. Jordan took her hand in reassurance and smiled. “Okay, we can leave now.”

“What?” Molly asked as she hung up. “Is everything okay?”

“I think so. But Bobby says we need to get over to Flour Child now.”

Molly’s mind raced with a million possible problems. “Is something wrong? What’s going on?”

“Let’s not wonder. Let’s go find out.” Jordan took her hand and they headed out.

*

Molly heard them before she saw them.

As they rounded the corner to Main Street, the sight before them stopped her cold. There were people, throngs of them, hundreds in fact, gathered in front of the bakeshop. Some were carrying signs depicting the Starbucks logo with a line through it. Others wore homemade T-shirts. She didn’t know what to make of it. She looked at Jordan, who shrugged in mystification.

The crowd started to cheer when they saw her. It was all very surreal. She moved among them, shocked at the sight. There was Mr. Mueller, the mailman; Deb from the diner; a whole grouping of her neighbors and former teachers. Hell, she could go on and on. It seemed like everyone was there. And that’s when she saw him.

“Daddy? You’re here too?” she said. “Do you know what’s going on?”

He smiled and put his arm around her. “Turns out these folks don’t want to see you close. In fact, they’re here to show their support and vow to keep you in business.”

“Gonna skip Starbucks from now on, Molly,” Evan Thompson, from the auto body shop called out. “I don’t care if they do have a drive-through. Your cinnamon rolls are fifty times better anyway. I’ll be here from now on each morning. Promise ya.”

“Thanks, Evan. But I don’t think that’s—”

Celia Foster pushed through the crowd. “None of us are going to that big chain store anymore. Flour Child is our bakeshop and we’d like it to stay that way. We’re not willing to give it up.”

“I’ll be in at least twice a week. Three times if I get a raise,” someone behind her called out.

Molly turned toward the voice. “That’s so nice of you to say, Mrs. Abernathy, but I’m afraid there’s not much choice. I have to close down today.”

“Actually, you don’t.” It was Felix from the bank. Molly threw a questioning look to Jordan who squeezed her hand.

“I don’t understand.”

He handed her an envelope. “The mortgage has been paid, along with the secondary loan. You’re free and clear.”

She stared at him. “This doesn’t make sense.”

“A donor came forward. Paid it all off in your name.” Felix looked to his right, and Molly followed his gaze.

There, standing at the edge of the crowd, feigning interest in the shop’s awning and pretty much ignoring everyone was Mr. Jeffries.

He scoffed, catching Molly looking at him. “What?”

“Did you pay off my mortgage, Mr. Jeffries?”

He glared back at her like she was less than bright. “Well, I couldn’t exactly have the shop close down, could I? A man’s entitled to his routine, you know.”

She didn’t know what to say. “Thank you,” was the start she went with. “I’ll pay you back just as soon as I can.” She couldn’t quite process this turn of events.

“You will not,” he grumbled. “You’ll use the cushion to get ahead and the rest of the idiots will keep you afloat. Then everyone will be happy and shut up.”

She scanned the scene, the faces of the people she loved most in the world. She turned around to face the shop. Eden stood in the doorway with her arm around Louise. Damon sat beneath them on the step.

The sight of them brought it all home.

They were wanted. The town was willing to stand up and say so. And that meant the shop was staying put. She’d get up the next morning and come in to work. And every morning after that. She’d hang the photo of herself and her dad back on the wall.

She walked to the corner of the group and threw her arms around Mr. Jeffries, who stood stock-still before softening and allowing her to hug him. “I can’t believe you did this,” she told him. “I won’t let you down.”

“Don’t go getting all mushy on me. You got a business to run, girlie. Look alive.”

She stared down at the envelope in her hands, and then looked to her father, who beamed at her proudly, his arm around Jordan. The Tuscanas stood a few feet away, holding a box of pastries purchased from inside.

They were all there.

She decided she better say something. “Thank you so much, everyone. Um…I guess as it turns out, we’re not closing down after all.” She lifted a shoulder and let it drop.

The announcement was met with applause and cheers from the more boisterous individuals. As she moved among the crowd, she was met even more with pledges of support and vows to patronize the shop every day. Wes Broll even offered his Web design services to get her set up for online orders for MollyDollys. She planned to take him up on it.

“Plenty of coffee and cinnamon rolls inside. Step right up!” Eden called out loudly from the steps. Needless to say, the line eventually worked its way down the block.

Molly found her way back to Jordan. “Can you believe this?”

“I can. I told you. You’re the heart and soul of this town, Molly. These people aren’t letting you get away that easily.”

“I guess not.” She surveyed the line happily, full of excitement. She could do cartwheels down Main Street she was on such a high. “I better get in there and get some trays in the oven. We’re going to need more food.”

Jordan gestured with a tilt of her head. “I guess I better get in line.”

Molly tugged on her arm and pulled her into the shop. “Like I’d ever make you wait.”

Epilogue

One Year Later

Jordan stole another glance down the aisle at the faces of her audience. It was absolute torture to sit in a theater while her friends and family watched her film for the first time.

The word nervous was too basic a term.

Sure, it had already done well at the festivals, even picking up a couple of awards here and there, but this was different. Crazy different. These were the people who mattered, and it was their stories she was telling up on that screen.

And, might she add, sitting still for eighty-eight minutes while the thing ran was virtually impossible. What she really wanted to do was pace, get out all of that extra energy coursing through her. Or better yet, get a drink and see them all once the whole thing was over.

Picking up on Jordan’s restlessness, Molly placed a calming hand on her knee and offered her a smile. “Relax,” she mouthed.

She nodded, already responding. Molly had a way of resetting her just when she needed it. She had to admit, it was beyond hospitable for the theater to offer a complimentary screening of the documentary for the citizens of Applewood.

A quick glance at the screen told her that the film had less than five minutes remaining. She could do this, she decided. In fact, the ending was her favorite part.

She settled back in her seat as the film cut to the final interview with George and Bobby. This was the denouement, the film’s wrap-up section that tied everything up into a nice neat little bow. Not all films had the luxury of such an ending. She was glad this one did.

She’d shot the interview on their front porch, loving the texture the railing offered. Quaint. Very much in contrast to George’s big city sophistication they’d established earlier in the film, which made it all the more perfect.

“You never know what life has in store for you,” George told the camera before sneaking a look at Bobby, next to him. “Two years ago, if you told me I’d be living in a town like this one and enjoying every minute of it, I would have laughed in your face. But love has a way of changing things. I even wear less black now.”

Bobby chimed in. “It’s true. The love thing, I mean. He still wears a ton of black. When I think about my life just over a year ago, I’m amazed at the contrast. I was a closeted bartender who came home to the television and my Basset hound each night. I thought that was it for me. But my life was forever altered by a pretentious socialite from the big city.”

George’s mouth fell open. “Hey!”

“It’s true, baby. Highly pretentious.”

The audience laughed right on cue as the shot cross-faded to a largely pregnant Eden applying frosting to a batch of cupcakes at Flour Child. “I flat-out hated the guy. I’m not even going to lie about that. He got my fur up. Now, I’m having his baby and more excited than I’ve ever been in my tiny little life. We’re decorating the nursery tonight. In pink.”

The camera panned to Damon who stood across the prep table from Eden grinning at her like she’d hung the moon. He looked over at the camera, the tears visible in his eyes. “I still can’t believe I’m about to have a family.” He swiped at his face sheepishly as Eden came around the table and put her arms around him.