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“What can I get you?” Her nametag reads ‘Taylor’. Looking at her, she still has the glowing smile of an optimistic teenager. She definitely stirs up the memories of me working at this exact counter. That also means she’s young enough that she has zero clue who I am, and that makes me feel a little more relaxed.

A comforting warmth floods through me because I don’t need to look at that menu to know what I want.

“I’ll take an everything bagel, toasted with eggs, chorizo, and pepper jack cheese. Oh, and can you put some of the green hatch chile salsa on there, too?”

She smiles and nods in approval, probably because I asked for the salsa I’m positive they still have, but has never actually been on the menu. It’s a local favorite, especially in the fall around the town’s Hatch Chile Festival. That stuff on a savory bagel sandwich is easily my favorite not-sugar-covered excuse for breakfast.

“Absolutely. That’ll just be a few minutes,” she says, tapping the tablet before turning it toward me. I tap my card and notice she hasn’t turned to start working on my order. That’s when I notice that she’s gnawing at the inside of her cheek.

“Everything okay?”

She looks around like she’s about to get caught before leaning over the counter. “I love your septum ring. The gold is so cool.”

I let out a giggle and do a little shimmy. “Thank you.”

She gives me a sheepish smile that makes me remember how awkward being a teenager is. “I want to get one, but I have to wait until next week, after my birthday, so I can do it on my own because my mom wouldn’t sign a waiver. Even then, I think she’ll still flip out.”

I crook a finger for her to come closer. “You can still do it. She doesn’t have to know.”

Her brows knit together in confusion. “You can hide a nose ring?”

“Just like this.” I flip up my horseshoe-shaped ring so it’s tucked inside my nose and wink at her.

Her eyes widen in surprise. “That’s a thing? You can do that?”

“Oh yeah, totally,” I say, flipping the ring back down.

This time, she’s the one who giggles. “Maybe I will do it then.”

“I thought I heard trouble, but I’m not sure I believe my eyes.”

Taylor and I both turn to the kitchen at the back of the bakery to see Maribel standing in the doorway.

I swallow hard, scanning her from head to toe. She’s wearing what looks like the same apron I remember her always having. Judging by the assortment of patches sewn onto it, it probably is. Her blonde hair that’s fading to white is still pulled back with a bandana tied on as a headband to keep it out of the way in the kitchen. The only other changes I can pick out are the creases around her eyes and lips, made noticeable by the flat expression she’s directing at me. Just like the menu, she hasn’t changed much in the last ten years either.

“Oh, you know each other?” Taylor asks innocently, looking between me and my former boss. Actually, boss hardly does her justice. She was practically my aunt—the fun one I could gossip about boys with—even if there was only ever one, and she would never tell my parents. If I wasn’t in school or hanging out with the Sterlings, I was most likely here with her, especially in the summers. That was until my family cost her brother his job and he started helping at the bakery. While I don’t think she directly blamed me, it obviously became awkward.

“Know each other?” Maribel huffs, separating herself from the doorframe to stride toward us. I brace for some level of discomfort in what she’s going to say next, which is easy because I’ve had years to build a thick skin. That’s why I’m not prepared when she says, “Josie’s practically family.”

My face starts to scrunch into a puzzled look, which quickly turns into a wince when Maribel wraps me in a bone-crushing hug. She was never a small woman and always had the strength of a mother bear that would crush friend, foe, and family alike. This hug feels like the latter.

“Hi… Maribel,” I wheeze out. “Nice to see you too, but can you let me go?”

“Not a chance in hell, you little shit. I’ve got years of hugs to make up for.” Her unyielding grip on me tightens and I believe her.

“Seriously, I think my ribs might break.”

She finally relents and lets go of me. I press my hand to my chest and suck in a breath, noticing Maribels’s eyes track me up and down. Her flat expression is gone. She smiles, shaking her head, but there’s no sign of disapproval or judgment.

“Look at my girl. All grown up.” She grabs me by the shoulder and looks into my eyes before bopping me on the nose with a fingertip. “You even got that nose ring you always wanted. Don’t think I didn’t hear you telling my best employee how to hide one from her parents.”

I shrug innocently because she can’t see all my tattoos and other piercings. “You know me, just making sure this town has at least one troublemaker.”

Taylor giggles and Maribel raises her brows, gesturing for Taylor to turn around. “I think you have some food to make for our guest.”

Taylor rolls her eyes—the way only a moody teen can—and turns to the prep counter. Yeah. She definitely reminds me of myself.

Maribel points to the bistro table. “Come, sit. I think we have a lot to catch up on.”