Chapter Text
Steve wiped his hands on his apron, stood back, and looked around the interior of the store. As he cast his gaze over the gleaming glass display case, the freshly-painted white walls, the spotless formica tables by the window, and the tray of muffins cooling on the countertop, he felt a sense of pride settle over him. Now there was just one thing left to do, and he’d be ready for opening day.
Muscles straining with the effort, he hefted up the large sign that had been leaning against a wall and maneuvered it outside. He’d figured that a hanging sign would fit the old-school Americana vibe he was going for and, more importantly, he’d be able to hang it on his own. He could work out all he wanted, but attempting to affix a fascia sign with just him and his step ladder seemed like a great way to sustain a head injury right when he least needed it. Plus there was already a bracket attached to the outer wall, which meant that all he had to do was attach the metal straps. He did this now, lugging the sign up the ladder then raising it up until he could slot it securely into place.
When he was done, he went inside, stowed the step ladder away in the store room then, on his way back out, grabbed the handful of flyers he’d printed off the previous night. If he was going to start on marketing next, there was no time like the present.
Outside, Steve stood back and admired his handiwork. The sign swung slightly in a faint, warm breeze, the letters standing out in blue font on a white background: Steve’s Sweet Treats.
Yeah, the name was twee as hell, but Steve was starting to think he was a twee kinda guy at heart—he was opening a bakery for God’s sake.
As he looked up at his brand new store in a brand new town, his chest ached for what lay behind, but at the same time, he felt the potential for what might be ahead; a future that was calm, and slow, and where the pain of the past was soothed by the myriad daily joys of an ordinary, small town life.