“You’re right. Let me think about it. There has to be a solution.”
Amber sighed. “To be that young and enthusiastic,” she said with a sigh. “I’m envious. You work on the problem and I’ll go pay our vendors. We’ll meet in a couple of weeks and discuss it all. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
Amber took a step toward the back office, then paused. She put her hand on her stomach. “I’m having the weirdest sensations lately. I just don’t feel right.”
Shelby didn’t like that sound of that. “What do you mean?”
“Things are off in my tummy. I keep thinking it’s going to be my time of the month, but it’s not. My hormones are a mess.” She grimaced. “I can’t be going through the change, can I? I’m way too young. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. And if I’m not, I’ll eat more of your mousse.”
“It’s in the refrigerator in the back.”
Amber groaned. “I so didn’t need to know that. Now I’m going to be thinking about it all day.”
Shelby watched her go and hoped everything was all right. Probably just a stomach bug, she told herself.
Before she could get serious about worrying more, the door opened and a very pregnant Isabel Hendrix waddled in. Shelby looked at her and did her best not to wince. It wasn’t that Isabel was so very far along as the fact that she was carrying triplets.
Her friend groaned. “Yes, I know. I’m a whale. And one of the really big ones. Which, in case you were wondering, is a blue whale. They can grow to over ninety feet. Unlike the smaller killer whales that tend to top out at thirty feet.”
Shelby stared at her. “How do you know that?”
Isabel grinned. “Very random, huh? And impressive. I mentioned being a whale to Felicia and she gave me a brief lecture on the species.”
Not a surprise, Shelby thought. Felicia was some kind of genius who knew just about everything. She organized all the festivals in town with a precision that left most of the citizens both dizzy and appreciative.
Isabel rested her right hand on her large belly. “You know why I’m here.”
“I do and I have two loaves put aside for you.”
“Thank goodness. I swear I would have started sobbing if you hadn’t.” She shook her head. “There is so something wrong with me.”
“No, there isn’t. You’re pregnant and dealing. Give yourself a break.”
Shelby had never been pregnant, but if Isabel was anything to go by, the cravings were powerful. Her friend had developed a love for pretzel bread that bordered on fanatical. Two months before, the bakery had run out and Isabel had cried piteously. Shelby had felt so badly about the upset that she’d stayed late, baking a batch. When she’d delivered it, Isabel had cried again, this time out of joy.
Talk about powerful weapons, she thought now. If someone learned to control hormones they could rule the world.
“I have the bread on the baking schedule,” she told her friend. “We’ll always have it for you. And if we happen to run out, I have a half-dozen loaves of dough in the freezer.”
Isabel rubbed her belly. “I’m sorry to be such a freak. I can’t seem to help it. You’re very good to me and I owe you. Seriously, if there’s anything you ever need, tell me and I’m there. If I’m busy changing the three or four thousand diapers I’m going to have to deal with every week, I’ll send Ford.”
An impressive offer, Shelby thought, considering Ford was a successful businessman and former navy SEAL. She doubted there was anything he couldn’t accomplish.