It's been so long! Sorry, guys! I had to completely rewrite my plan for this story, as it just had some issues I didn't enjoy and this particular chapter has been redone probably three times. I hope you guys haven't forgotten about my story.
Hectic might have been the biggest understatement for how his day was panning out and he groaned at the work that was left to be done as he absentmindedly rubbed at the still healing wound on his head.
Another set of storms, stronger this time, had rocked Boston and though Sweetie's hadn't been the hardest hit by any stretch, she'd still taken some damage. Water had seeped into the basement, shorting out two of Phil's biggest freezers, one full of key ingredients and the other full of unfinished cakes. Unfinished and, now, ruined cakes.
An understatement, indeed.
Under the blanket of stress that had settled over them, he'd closed the store front, pulling the blinds down against the outside world and the slowing rain, boarding up the few broken windows before retreating to the back to regroup.
"Do you think we can get the orders done now? We're easily a week behind schedule at this point, more if we don't have anything to make them with."
Clint was exasperated, understandably so. Being the one to have discovered the mess, he'd taken on a certain amount of guilt that Phil had both tried and failed to alleviate.
"We'll have to start over. There's nothing else we can do. We should have enough ingredients until the next shipment arrives in three days, but as far as the cakes? Call each customer, confirm the date and time of delivery. Maybe we'll get lucky and someone will push an order back a bit. If not, we'll just have to deal," he sighed, running his hands over his face tiredly. "Any cakes due over the next few days will have to be remade and delivered day of. I'll start mixing up some batter and-"
"Natasha and I can handle the cakes and Hunter can keep delivering what wasn't ruined, while Bobbi starts making the calls. She's the best with customer service and most of our clients have dealt with her directly. In the meantime, we need some freezers."
"But it's Nat's day off, I'm sure she has plans—"
"I've already called her and the others, they're on their way."
Phil must have looked dumbfounded, because Clint just chuckled. "What? Did you think we'd leave you here to stay late and do it all on your own like you would have insisted?"
Before he could make a reply, he heard the bell on the front entry jingle, and sure enough, not ten seconds later, his whole team walked in to survey the damage. They'd brought a few friends he vaguely knew—Phil could imagine that Clint's distress call had warranted a second wave of reinforcements—and he welcomed the help.
"We've got this handled, boss-man," Clint informed him, smiling despite the hard work ahead. "No need to thank us."
He'd think of some way to thank them, definitely. How, he had no idea, but he'd find something-when all of the mess had been dealt with and Sweetie's was back in business.
They started with the water, with mops, buckets, and industrial steam cleaners to go around. Everyone had fallen into a groove, the minutes ticking by and the damage disappearing under the care of a half-dozen pairs of hands.
Bobbi had managed to contact the majority of their clients that had cakes going out and he was surprised to learn that most were willing to wait, though if that was because his cakes had a wonderful reputation or because most of the outdoor weddings and events in the area had been canceled as well, he didn't know.
Even still, it took three hours for Phil to find replacements for his freezers and even longer to convince the manufacturer to agree to deliver in two days time. The weather would keep them from delivering earlier and Phil groaned at the implications.
'It'll be a week, at the least, before I can open again,' he thought, hands running through his hair in agitation. The shrill ringing of his phone pulled him away, Audrey's face appearing on his screen and he managed to mumble out a meager greeting.
"Phil? Are you okay? I saw the news."
He could hear instruments in the background, coupled with laughter and he was glad that she seemed to be having a better day than himself.
"I'm alright. I can't say the same for my bakery, but she should be up and running again soon if I have anything to say about it," he chuckled humorlessly, his head beginning to throb uncomfortably. "Will I see you later?"
"Oh, I'm not sure. Our pianist is retiring after twenty years and his party is tonight. We've been planning it for weeks and we're all loath to cancel it because of the weather, so I think we're gonna power through."
He'd forgotten about that. They'd been planning it for half the season as the man had changed his mind multiple times on his retirement date, but it seemed he was finally committing to the decision.
Phil sighed, barely concealing his disappointment. He'd been hoping to see her, but he understood and he said as much, though the conversation did little to improve his mood.
It was around noon when the day finally looked up. They'd managed to remove the majority of the water damage, though the burned out sockets would have to wait for the electrician later in the week. He'd even decided to hire a contractor—in the hopes that the next time Thor called forth the rains, that Sweetie's would be as prepared as possible.
He was just about to call time for lunch, when a rapid knock at the door stopped their progress. Frowning, he pulled open the door to find Melinda, arms full of pizza and her face hidden by the many boxes in her hands.
"Hi, Phil!"
At Skye's voice, his grin was automatic and he quickly moved to let them pass, the six year old skipping happily inside, two boxes of her own gripped tightly in her hands.
"What are you guys doing here?"
"The news is showing all of the damage. Skye saw this place and had a fit. She wouldn't calm down until I agreed to come see you, so we decided it would be best to bring all of you lunch...I hope you haven't eaten," she explained, frowning as if the idea hadn't occurred to her, but Clint was quick to dissuade her, lifting the boxes out of her arms with an all-too eager grin.
"No! We haven't and we're all starving. Right guys?"
There were murmurs of agreement and thanks from everyone gathered and, immediately, the tension lifted as the food was passed around, everyone pulling chairs and tables together haphazardly in the wrecked front room as if the damage had never occurred.
"You didn't have to do that you know."
Melinda smirked as they found their own spot. "I figured that between all the cleanup, you'd forget about food. Odd, considering you're a chef, but at least this way, I can make certain you eat."
He blushed under her scrutiny, but nodded at her observation with a chuckle. He often forgot to eat when he was working, no matter how many customers he'd given their own plate to.
"Plus, Skye was concerned."
His eyes scanned the room until they landed on the little girl, her attention on some ridiculous story Hunter was certainly retelling for the millionth time. Yes, no doubt, Skye had been concerned, but he questioned whether or not coming down to Sweetie's with food had been her idea.
"Just Skye?"
He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He didn't know why he'd asked but it was too late to take them back as Melinda's eyes widened just-slightly, her eyes locking on his as he began to back-track.
"I'm sorry-"
"Mommy! Look, isn't it pretty!?"
Phil breathed a sigh of relief at Skye's interruption, but Melinda's eyes stayed unerringly on him for just a beat too long before her gaze drifted down to her excitable daughter.
"What is it, baby?"
As Skye lifted the blue-green glass up for her to see, Phil's stomach dropped.
Sea-glass. Skye was holding sea-glass.
Immediately, his eyes had flew towards his mother's mural. Despite every other issue they'd dealt with today, he hadn't considered that the hand-made logo had suffered any damage, but he was saddened to find that he was mistaken.
Pieces of blue and green and red glass were either cracked or missing completely. They were small holes, the cracking plaster beneath not easily visible to anyone save himself, but to him they were gaping and he could see every imperfection.
It was a blow he hadn't expected and despite his broken freezers, his water-damaged floors, and his ruined cakes, this one hurt the most.
"Phil?"
The others hadn't noticed, still eating and laughing and he was grateful, but Melinda was observant. Even little Skye was looking at him quizzically, still holding the smooth piece of sea-glass carefully between her fingers.
"I'm okay," he mumbled, though he didn't miss the tiny scrunch of Melinda's eyebrows. "It's stupid really, but my mother made it."
Despite it's meaning, the mosaic did nothing to keep his business running, it didn't stop orders from being delivered or cakes from being made. It had no purpose, save for aesthetic, but it was important—to him.
"But can't we fix it?" Skye asked, scrambling up into the chair next to his.
That was a good question. Finding pieces that would fit correctly would be difficult enough and it might take more than one trip to the beach before repairing it could even be attempted. And he'd have to look over the whole design, get rid of the broken pieces that hadn't fully been dislodged. It would take time.
And an artistic flair he didn't have.
But it would be fixed, even if he had to re-plaster the entire thing and go find the sea-glass himself.
"Will you be okay?"
It was Skye that had spoken, but both she and her mother were waiting on his answer. Undoubtedly, he would be, but Skye wasn't so easily mollified by his quick reassurances.
"I'm sorry it's broke."
The poor girl looked like she was on the verge of tears, but both he and Melinda were able to comfort her and, soon enough, she was bouncing between the tables once more, her laughter ringing out as she went.
"So," Melinda began as they wrapped up lunch, "It's still early if you'd like an extra pair of hands. Well," she corrected, looking at her daughter, "a pair and a half."
"Oh no," he began, surprised by the offer, though he couldn't fathom why. They practically shared a cat as a result of her generosity after all. "I couldn't ask you to-"
"Phil."
Perhaps it was her tone of voice or the direct, hard look she was giving him again, but he acquiesced readily enough, eager to have the added help to get Sweetie's back on her feet.
And so, once again, they all took their places: Clint, Natasha, and Hunter taking the back with himself, Bobbi, and Melinda taking the front, the latter keeping a watchful eye upon her rambunctious fledgling.
Melinda had taken pains to explain to Skye that she needed to be careful and ever willing to help, he'd procured a set of gloves that prevent any injury. They were much too large for her tiny hands, but Melinda was grateful nonetheless. After sending the girl off towards the counter with Bobbi, broom in hand, they started with the bigger issues like righting tables and picking up the larger, more dangerous debris and glass that still littered the store front.
Melinda, he knew, wasn't much for speaking but the giggles coming from behind the counter were enough to entertain them. He was happy to find that he and Melinda worked well together and the silence was comfortable—easy even—as they worked side by side until the sun had begun to set.
It was shortly after when they all called it a day, everyone saying goodbye and shuffling out one by one with the promise of returning the next day.
"Mommy," Skye asked, turning to Melinda, "is it time to go?"
Melinda sighed, smirking at her daughter before swiping her thumb across a dirty cheek as Skye squirmed. "Almost, baby. It's getting late so why don't you go find your coat?" she suggested, eying the darkening sky outside. "You need a bath and we still have to make the walk home."
Skye looked like she might protest and he chuckled at the scowl on her face at the mention of bath-time, but did as she was told.
"Walk?" he asked, confused. "You guys walked here?"
Melinda nodded. "It was unseasonably warm today and the walk isn't too far. I figured we'd stop for dinner along the way."
She was right. Despite the recent weather, it had been rather warm today, but it was nearing the end of November and soon enough, if not already, Old Man Winter would rear his ugly head and neither of them would get sick on his watch if he could help it.
"Then, as a token of my eternal gratitude, you must allow me to take the both of you home."
A glint of amusement ran through Melinda's eyes. "The chivalrous Agent Coulson to save the day?"
He flushed at the mention of his and Skye's little game, but he nodded all the same. "What kind of agent would I be if I didn't offer? Besides, Agent Skye is my partner after all."
By now Skye had returned, her excitement obvious. "Mommy, can we? Lola is so cool!"
Phil smirked as Melinda's smile faded into a look of confusion. "Who's Lola?"
It took nearly half an hour to close up the shop and just about the time they were set to head out, another knock came.
"Audrey," he started, surprised at her arrival as he pulled open the door for the second time that day. "What are you doing here?"
"I left the party early and decided to come see you," she explained, giving him a sweet kiss before it fell quickly into a frown.
"What happened to your head?" she asked, fingers tracing the now fading line lightly.
"Oh, I fell," he replied lamely, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "Melinda had to patch me up."
He motioned to where she and Skye were sitting, the latter watching the exchange between the two adults with an avid curiosity.
"Oh, I didn't know you had company."
He introduced them as he explained, momentarily forgetting that though Audrey had seen Skye, she'd never met her mother. "They came to help with the cleanup. It was a madhouse earlier with everything to figure out."
Audrey nodded, taking in the information. "Where is everyone else?"
"Clint and I decided to call it a day and everyone else took the hint shortly after."
"Obviously, not everyone," Audrey mumbled under her breath, causing him to glance at her sharply as Melinda did the same.
It was an unexpected turn of events. Audrey was sweet and mild-mannered and, though the words themselves had not been vicious, her tone was enough to put him on alert. Melinda, too, by the looks of it, as the earlier ease that had occurred between them had vanished, replaced by a tense set of shoulders and a blank expression. Even Skye's disposition had changed, her cheerful manner losing out to confusion, though he doubted that she'd understood the slight barb.
Something was...off.
"Can we talk?" he asked, turning to Audrey, and as she agreed, he led her back behind the swinging door and into the kitchen. "Are you alright?"
It was a simple question, designed to soothe in case he was imagining things, but Audrey sighed before running her fingers through her wind-tangled hair.
"Yes, I'm sorry. I had every intention of having a fantastic night, but our new pianist was invited to meet everyone, to smooth the transition, but he's..."
She trailed off, unable to think of an appropriate description.
"He's...?" he prompted.
"I don't know," she admitted with a whine. "He spent half the night ogling me and the other half trying to buy me a drink, so I feigned a headache and left. It ruined my night and my mood. I should have just helped out here, I'm sorry."
Phil was unsure if he was relieved or annoyed, but he settled for the latter, rubbing her arms in what he hoped was a comforting manner as she gathered herself.
"I should apologize to your friends. It was rude of me to have to said such a thing," she admitted, the guilt beginning to eat at her. "Will they be upset?"
He didn't know. Melinda was kind, but she hid herself behind layers of masks and a dash of mystery. Phil had no doubt that she would forgive her for such a small slight, but Melinda and Audrey had never met before tonight, making the barb even more unexpected.
"They'll be fine," he reassured, hoping he was right as he pulled her close to place a kiss upon her forehead and he chuckled when her stomach growled. "Have you eaten?"
"A few bites here and there, but I'm starving."
"Well, Melinda and Skye walked here and, as a thank you, I promised to take them home, but after that I'm all yours."
Despite her night, she smiled. "I could meet you at that wonderful Asian place down the street?"
"Deal."
With that decided, they returned to the front of the store much better than they'd left it, but the feeling was brief. His bakery was silent, Melinda and Skye's having left without a word, their absence leaving both this bakery and himself feeling—empty.
It was a little after ten when Phil returned home. He was exhausted and looking forward to nothing save for a good night's rest before the next days business, but as he pushed his door open wide, he was stopped in his tracks by his name, whispered and distinctly child-like.
And familiar.
"Phil."
Turning, he smiled at Skye as she peeked out of her door, the soft, warm glow of the lamp just inside illuminating her face just enough for him to see that she was smiling. "Hi, sweetie."
She abandoned her post by the door, running towards him and hugging him with a sleepy grin. "Hi."
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked, taking note of her pajamas, eyes crinkling in amusement at the tiny dragons and blossoms on her Mulan pajamas.
Glancing back at her door, she whispered again, placing her fingers over her mouth in an effort to shush him. "Mommy is asleep."
"Then why did you sneak out here?" he asked, confused as to why she would deliberately disobey her mother.
"I want a cake," she replied, like her late-night request was completely normal.
He blinked. "Baby, it's a little late for sweets-"
"Not for me! For Mommy."
"For Momm-" he asked, not following her train of thought. "Why do you need a cake for your Mommy?"
"'Cause it's her birthday soon and she always gets me one on mine. Will you help me? Please?" she asked, bouncing on her feet in anticipation. "I can pay with my piggy bank."
Oh and if that didn't just melt his heart.
"Alright," he told her, pulling out his tablet as he sank to the floor to lean against the wall. She sat down right next to him, watching as he pulled up a notepad.
"Okay, what kind of cake would your Mommy like?"
"Something fruity."
"Like what?"
Skye thought for a moment, fingers stroking her chin in an effort to come up with something. "She likes berries a lot, but I don't think it will matter."
He frowned. "Why?"
"Mommy was talking to Auntie Maria on the phone. She said that whatever you make tastes like heaven. I'm not really sure what she means, but it must be good right?"
He laughed, trying desperately to taper it off when she shushed him. "Okay, what about a coconut cake with berries and cream? Maybe something like this?" he suggested, passing her the device to see the picture.
It was a white-cake, with a blueberry and raspberry filling, but Skye just shook her head no. "Too much frosting. Mommy says too much frostin' could mess up a perfectly good cake. It's why she likes cupcakes so much. Something 'bout balance, but I stopped paying attention."
He paused for a moment, mentally altering his search in a different direction. "What about one of these then?"
This time, when he passed her the tablet, it was a picture of what the baking world called a "naked" cake, with so little frosting on the outside that you could easily see the cake beneath. It looked rustic, but beautiful in its simplicity and Skye was quite taken with the idea.
"Can it have flowers on the top, like that one?" she asked pointing to a similar picture with a set of sugar flowers on the topmost tier in a wide set of colors.
"I don't know..." he hedged, trailing off."You might have to sweet-talk Clint or Natasha into making them, but I'm sure we could work something out."
Not that they'd argue. They'd find Skye's idea as adorable as he did.
"There has to be a daisy, so that she knows it's from me! They're my favorite."
He smiled at the random bit of information, but agreed, knowing that he'd have agreed to anything for such a perfect request.
"And a pretty candle sticking out of the top, so that Mommy can make a wish."
"Oh, yeah?" he replied, already thinking of designs and colors in his head.
"Mommy says wishes are magic. That wishes are the first step to having your dreams come true. I think she got it out of a Disney movie, but it sounds pretty," she shrugged, focused completely on the screen and oblivious to any of his quiet laughter.
For the next quarter of an hour, they ironed out the details with hushed laughter and contagious yawns, until Skye was dozing against his shoulder and, only when she was satisfied with the outcome, did she finally agree to go back inside and, more importantly, to sleep.
"Off to bed with you, Daisy."
"Okay," she yawned, placing a kiss on his cheek as she stepped away. "G'night, Phil."
She was nearly on the other side of the door when he managed to speak through the sudden lump in his throat.
"Goodnight, baby. Sweet dreams."
He waited until he heard the lock click before he allowed the tired, happy smile to grow on his face as he sat there in the darkened hallway, completely at ease with the world in that moment.
Well there's chapter 8! Hopefully, you guys enjoyed!