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Hate was a strong word.
She didn’t hate Piper. Hate wasn’t the word.
Shelly buried her head in her hands, trying to think. So why did the sight of Piper’s face make her heart race so? Piper and her stupid hair tied and coiled neatly atop her head. Piper and her asinine insistence on manners, and her stupid ‘dears’ and ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darlings’ that made Shelly’s stomach turn, with disgust, no doubt. Her low, slightly accented voice and her usage of euphemisms that Shelly had never heard of outside of cheesy 80s cowboy flicks. Piper and her awfully soft hands, hands that proved that she had never ever had to have done a lick of hard work in her life. It all pissed her off to no end. Really, and truly, she hated everything she stood for.
“Is that all for you today, dear?”
So why did she keep coming back? Numbly, Shelly nodded, took her muffin as Piper offered it to her, trying to ignore the thumping of her heart as Piper’s hand brushed her own.
“That’ll be two forty five. It’s good to see you again, Shelly.”
Shelly nodded, paying, before retreating from the counter. She hated this woman, but she wasn’t going to let her absolute abhorrence of her keep her from coming when she felt hungry. It wasn’t her fault that Piper made the best muffins in town. She certainly wasn’t returning every day to hear Piper call her by her name. Shelly sank into one of the benches that were set up outside by the bakery, before unwrapping her prize. She took a bite of her hard earned pastry, enjoying how it crumbled in her mouth, savoring the light vanilla sweetness that was the tell tale sign of Piper’s cooking. Though she hated that woman, Shelly had to admit that damn, could she bake.
“Mind if I join you?”
And before Shelly could decline, Piper sat down on the space beside her.
“It’s a lovely day out, isn’t it? I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, truly I am. It’s just awfully boring in the shop this time of day, and I could use a bit of company.”
“Ith fine.” Shelly mumbled from around her mouthful, wincing as a few stray crumbs fell from her lips, speckling her shirt with vanilla flavoured crumbs. Dammit. Feeling embarrassed, she brushed the crumbs off with the back of her hand, before pulling herself up to sit up straighter.
“It’s been a while since we’ve last gotten to talk, hasn’t it? How are you, dear?”
Shelly swallowed, the muffin in her mouth feeling drier all of a sudden. Coming here was a mistake, really. But though she easily could have stood and left, she didn’t for some accursed reason.
“It’s, uh. Fine, I guess. Yeah, I’ve been alright.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Shelly hated making small talk, she really did. But for some reason she felt herself compelled to continue, laughing a bit despite herself.
“You know how it is. Dry season means that the goddamn cattle refuse to move. It takes all but hell to rouse ‘em enough to herd ‘em anywhere.”
“I’d say. Bet it's hard work, out there, isn’t it? Don’t think I got the gumption to ever try, no thank you. I’m plum tuckered just thinkin’ bout it.”
Shelly tried to formulate a response, but found herself coming up empty. But it was no matter, because someone else had entered the bakery, and Piper had to leave. Shelly barely heard her hasty farewell, nor her own goodbye in return. She watched her leave, feeling slightly melancholic about it, before correcting herself.
She hated Piper, right?
So why did her sudden departure make her feel a twinge of sadness?
Shelly needn’t reflect on her thoughts. It didn't matter, at the end of the day. She had finished her muffin. She wadded up the sticky brown paper and stuffed it into the front of her pocket, to dispose of later. She wouldn’t have to worry about it, at least not for the rest of the day.
Because Piper made the best muffins in town, and though Shelly couldn’t stand her, she knew she’d be back for more tomorrow.