“Morning, Angel,” Stella murmured sleepily as Katrina crawled into bed with her. It was their normal morning routine. Stella didn’t have to be at work until eleven, and set an alarm for nine, but Katrina rarely slept past eight.

 

“I’m hungry,” Katrina replied with frank matter-of-factness as she snuggled in, Ted E. Bear still gripped tightly in her arm. If she was in her PJs, Ted was with her.

 

Stella smiled, yawned, and stretched with a long groan. She was looking forward to the days of getting eight hours sleep again instead of the five or six she was getting now. “Give Mommy a minute, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Katrina chirped. She actually gave her about three. “I’m hungry,” Katrina repeated.

 

Stella nodded and stretched. “Okay. What do you want for breakfast?”

 

“Pancakes!”

 

“You had pancakes yesterday.”

 

“I want pancakes!”

 

Stella snickered. “Okay, pancakes it is, but if you keep eating pancakes, you’re going to get fat!” she teased as she tickled Katrina to make her squeal and laugh. Katrina bailed out of the bed, and Stella chased her into the kitchen as Katrina shrieked in delight. As Stella prepared to make breakfast, Katrina place Ted in his own chair then climbed into her booster.

 

While Katrina waited, chatting about whatever came to her mind, Stella pulled the recycled ketchup bottle with the pancake batter out of the fridge and gave it a good shake while the griddle warmed, then squirted out four small pancakes the size of a jelly jar lid. After a moment she flipped the four cakes, allowed them to cook a moment longer, then transferred them to a plate for Katrina. A tiny curl of butter and a dash of syrup on each one, a glass of milk, and Katrina’s breakfast was ready.

 

While Katrina ate, Stella bathed and dressed for work. By ten everyone was fed, cleaned, and dressed for the day.

 

“You ready, Monkey?” Stella asked.

 

“Ready!” Katrina replied.

 

“Let’s go, then. You have everything?”

 

Katrina held up Ted for her mother to see, and Stella smiled. So long as they didn’t forget Ted, nothing else mattered. It helped Connie had a complement of clothes and toys at her house.

 

“Into the car!” Stella cheered then chased her daughter across the room.

 

“How’s my little angel this morning?” Connie asked as she opened the door.

 

“Good,” Katrina replied as she entered and immediately headed back to her room where her toys were.

 

“I’ll be by early,” Stella said, pressing the five twenties into Connie’s hand.

 

“Thank you, dear,” Connie said, taking the money. She had given up arguing with Stella about it years ago. “No date tonight?”

 

“No, Grammy, not tonight, but if it changes, I’ll call.”

 

“I was just wondering. It seems like all you do anymore is work. I worry about you.”

 

“Only a couple more months, then I can quit the diner.”

 

“I know you must be looking forward to that.”

 

Stella grinned. “You have no idea.” She gave Connie a peck on the cheek. “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you about eight-fifteen or so.”

 

“We’ll be here.”

 

***

 

Gabriel swam up from the darkness of sleep and scrubbed his face. He felt like warmed-over shit this morning. He’d returned home and done the very thing he’d left last night to avoid. He hadn’t killed the entire bottle, but he’d dipped deep into it, drinking it out of a disposable cup as he sat on the mattress, back propped against the wall, and stared at the empty room. He’d done a lot of that after he left Stella, fucking whoever he could bed, drinking alone, or both, as he tried to fill that hollow place with sex and booze. It hadn’t worked, but with the help of his brothers he’d pulled himself out of it and gotten his shit together.

 

With a groan, his head pounding, he staggered to his feet. “Fuck,” he muttered to the empty room. Working at the clubhouse today was going to suck! He dragged himself to the shower, leaving a trail of clothes behind as he did. The lotion Circe has spread on them had dried and his skin felt tight and slightly tacky, and he was looking forward to a shower.

 

He stood in the shower for a long time, steadily adding more hot water to the stream as it ran ever colder, until the shower control hit the stop for full on hot. Only then did he pick up the bar of soap and begin to scrub.

 

Shivering, but feeling somewhat revitalized, he stepped out and dried. His head was still pounding, but feeling a bit more alive than dead, he dressed and checked the time. It was nearly ten and he knew most of the brothers were already at work at the clubhouse.

 

“Fuck,” he said again as he picked up his keys, feeling guilty that he wasn’t there to help them. He trotted down the steps and swung a leg over the bike, putting on his helmet and thumbing the machine to life with a wince. “Fuck…”

 

The ten minute ride to the clubhouse, and the four Advil, helped clear his head and he was beginning to feel human again as he dismounted.

 

“Well look who finally showed up, the walking dead!” Scratch crowed as he walked in, making the other eight men laugh.

 

“Ha, ha, fuck you, Scratch,” Royal said as he gave him the finger.

 

“Rough night last night?” Doc teased.

 

“Got fucked by a witch. It took a lot out of me.”

 

“A witch?” Hot Rod asked. “Was it that chick at the diner?”

 

“No, somebody else, and that’s what she said. She’s a member of The Coven.”

 

“Never heard of them,” Doc replied.

 

Royal shrugged. “She was a little older, but I showed her what the Kings do to witches.”

 

The men laughed at Royal. It was well known he was able to pull more than his fair share of pussy. “Well, now that you’re here,” Hammer said handing him a pair of wire snips, “you can help me start pulling down this nasty ass drop ceiling.” He pointed to the corner where part of the ceiling was already down. “You missed the fun this morning when I found the nest of baby rats.”

 

“Great,” Royal muttered, taking the snips and looking around for another step ladder.

 

***

 

Saturday was always the bakery’s busiest day and she usually had help, but today Melissa had called in sick and Stella was trying to handle it alone. The bakery was open seven days a week, but she only baked Tuesday through Saturday. Saturday was her biggest baking day as she baked enough bread, cakes, cookies and pies to cover Sunday and Monday. It was also the day when most custom orders came in.

 

“How you doing?” June asked.

 

“I could really use some help,” Stella said, still piping frosting on the birthday cake that was to be picked up in an hour. “I’m spending so much time waiting on customers that I can’t get the baking done.”

 

“I’m sorry, Stella,” he said. “We’re short two today, Melissa and Joshua, but when I can free up someone, I’ll send them over.”

 

Stella nodded, never slowing in her task. The cake should have been done an hour ago and she was feeling the pressure to get it finished. “Can you cover for me while I at least finish this?”

 

June smiled. “Sure. I guess I can’t expect you to do all the work.”

 

She lost herself in her task, finishing the decorative border, then switched colors and tips to make a group of flowers in the corner. She consulted the card with the requested message, then carefully piped it onto the cake. Happy 80th Birthday, Rose. She added a bit of flourish by making the “O” in the name a rich red rose.

 

“Do we have any baguettes?” June asked as she was putting the finishing touches on the cake.

 

“In the oven,” she replied without looking up. “They should be ready any minute, but they need about thirty minutes to cool.”

 

June relayed Stella’s message to the customer then watched as she carefully placed the cake in the carrying box. “I see what you mean. Let me see if I can shake someone loose to help you for a while.”

 

“Thanks, June.” The oven began to call for her attention as Mrs. Wakowski approached the counter. The elderly woman stopped by every Saturday for her weekly supply of fresh bagels. “Will you give Mrs. Wakowski her bagels, please?” she asked as she handed June a bag of six.

 

Stella only made bagels on Friday and Saturday because of the time required, but people in the know were always waiting in line snap them up. She never failed to run out each time she made them even though she made twelve dozen at a time, but she always made sure to put back six blueberries for Mrs. Wakowski.

 

After she placed the baguettes on the cooling racks she decided she needed a bathroom break since there was nothing that required her immediate attention and June had sent over Wade to help. She gathered up the last four raisin cookies that hadn’t sold and took them with her to the breakroom, leaving them on the table for employee’s consumption.

 

After washing her hands, she checked her phone, smiling at the text from Tony. Sorry I missed your call last night. Was busy. Tonight?

 

Can’t tonight, she responded, not wanting to give up her time with Katrina. Sunday after work?

 

She was putting her phone back in her purse when it buzzed in her hand with a message. See you then. She smiled and dropped the phone in her purse, shut her locker, and returned to the bakery, smiling as Wade helped a customer, two more standing in line.

 

“Who’s next?” she asked as she walked up.

 

***

 

Royal and his brothers looked around the now gutted clubhouse. Everything they could do, they’d done, and all that was left was cleaning up the mess they’d made. The contractor was scheduled to start early next week rebuilding the inside to make the empty shell into their home.

 

“What do you think, brothers?” Doc asked. “Can we do something with it?”

 

“If it comes out as nice as the drawings, it’ll be nicer than our clubhouse in Charleston,” Hot Rod said.

 

“Smaller, though,” Scratch pointed out.

 

“Who cares? There’s only the ten of us at the moment anyway. It’ll be a long time before we outgrow this place,” Doc pointed out.

 

“All I know is, I’m ready to get this shit cleaned up and get a beer. Who’s with me?” Moose asked.

 

The men began haul out the debris. “You okay?” Doc asked as he and Royal muscled a section of wall out.

 

“Fine, why?”

 

Doc grunted as they stood the wall section up at an angle and eased it through the door. “Last night. Picking up a random woman then waking up hung over. That seemed a little familiar to me. You?”

 

Royal sighed. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

 

“Is it coming back to Greenfield?”

 

Royal didn’t answer until he muscled the wood and sheetrock into the dumpster. “Not so much that. Remember the diner?”

 

“Yeah. That was her?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Doc nodded. He knew Royal had beaten himself up over leaving Stella, but he thought he was past that. It sucked they’d been in town only a few days and he’d already run into her. “You okay? Did you know she would be there?”

 

“Yeah, I’m okay, and no, I didn’t know she worked there. She used to work at On A Roll.”

 

“You knew she might still be in Greenfield. If it was going to fuck you up, why’d you come back?”

 

“I don’t know. Greenfield’s still my home. I thought I was over it. I guess not.”

 

Doc put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You’re young. Give it time.”

 

“Yeah. I know. Last night, after seeing her, it kind of reminded me of what I don’t have, you know? Not like you and Holly.”

 

Doc nodded. “I know. But remember, I’m quite a bit older than you. I didn’t meet Holly until I was, let’s see, thirty-five. When I was twenty-five, I was still fucking whatever pussy I could find. You’ll find your Holly when the time’s right.” Doc gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I don’t know what you’re bitching about, though. You’re the only guy I know who can have a witch ride up beside him, end up fucking her twenty minutes later, and live to tell about it.”

 

Royal laugh as they stepped out of the way so Jaunt could toss a load of ceiling tiles into the dumpster. “I suppose so.”